He talks nonstop throughout the journey from Dublin Airport to the city center, changing subjects seamlessly and barely pausing for a breath. Traffic is heavier than I was expecting but it’s not as bad as L.A. His driving skills leave a lot to be desired, and he’s constantly switching lanes, honking his horn, cussing, and shaking his fist when other drivers try to cut in front of him.
By the time we reach the brown brick and glass high-rise I’ll be calling home for the next few months, my heart is in my mouth from the stress of his crazy driving and he’s given me a summary of his life story and a list of places I need to visit. “Home sweet home, love,” he says, pulling into an underground parking lot under the Capital Dock Residence building. “This place is the perfect location,” he adds, maneuvering into a vacant spot by the doors that lead to the elevators. “You’re right beside the Liffey, and it’s only a ten-minute walk to Trinners. You’re slap bang in the heart of the city with access to all the shops, pubs, and restaurants. You’ll have a grand ole time in our fair city.”
“Thank you so much, Micheál.” I lean forward, handing him a fifty-euro bill as a tip. Mom’s assistant Moira booked everything, and I know he’s already been paid for the journey.
“Jesus, love. You can’t be giving me that. It’s too much.”
“Trust me. It was worth it for the wealth of knowledge I’ve gleaned on the journey here. You should be a tour guide,” I quip, climbing out of the car.
“Maybe I missed my true calling.” He waggles his brows while unloading my suitcases.
He insists on coming inside with me, and between us, we manage to get all my luggage into the small elevator. Or lift, as Micheál keeps calling it.
Micheál whistles under his breath as we step out of the elevator into a large lobby. “Would you get a look at this place?” he says, looking awestruck as he glances around. “This is how the other half live.”
A tall, slim woman with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail steps forward to greet me. She’s wearing a navy skirt suit with a white blouse and holding a clipboard. “Ms. Mills?” she asks, extending her arm for a handshake.
“That’s me.” I shake her hand.
She smiles, flashing a set of beautiful white teeth. “I’m Ciara, the manager on duty today. I’m delighted to welcome you to Capital Dock Residence, and I hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us.”
“You’re in capable hands now, love.” Micheál grabs my hand, pressing a card into my palm. “Enjoy your time in Ireland, and if you need a taxi, I’m yer man.” I wave him off while Ciara arranges for someone to take my luggage up to the penthouse apartment.
Ciara gives me a quick tour of the communal areas, which includes a resident’s lounge, a game room, business suite, small cinema, and a decent-sized gym. We don’t venture outside, because the rain is plummeting down now, but she points out the landscaped gardens and courtyards, and maybe if I’m still here in the summer, I can make use of the outdoor space. She confirms I’m booked and fully paid until the beginning of June and all the utilities are included in the monthly rental payment.
She escorts me up to my apartment, and I’m blown away by the gorgeous, large, spacious two-bedroom, three-bathroom penthouse complete with a small rooftop garden. Sophisticated interior design and modern furniture are the main features of my new home, and I couldn’t have asked for anything better. I know it’s a world away from the average student accommodations, and I’m lucky. I would’ve taken a place on campus, butTrinnersdoesn’t have many accommodations, and there were no vacancies. Walking to the large floor-to-ceiling windows, I inhale deeply, already feeling a layer of stress lift from my body.
This place is perfect.
Just perfect.
My smile expands as I press my nose to the glass, rain pitter-pattering against the window. The views over the River Liffey and Dublin City Center are spectacular.
Ciara shows me how to work the appliances, use the shower, and regulate the heating. She laughs when I crank the thermostat to the max, feeling decidedly chilly even though the apartment isn’t cold. I’m guessing it’ll take this Cali girl some time to adjust to the vastly different climate in Ireland.
After she leaves, I do a little dance and emit a squeal before exploring the rest of my new home.
I make a quick call to my parents since I know they are waiting up to hear from me. I texted them when I landed on Irish soil, and I had planned on calling them from the taxi, but Micheál and his enthusiastic banter ended that plan. I FaceTime Mom and Dad, giving them a quick tour of my new place, thanking them profusely for organizing all of this and asking Mom to email me Moira’s address so I can send her an Irish care package as a thank-you.
Stripping off my clothes in the bigger of the two bedrooms, I take a blistering-hot shower before changing into yoga pants and a top. Yanking my wet hair into a messy bun on top of my head, I flop down on the bed and open the Irish cell phone Moira organized for me. It wasn’t necessary. I could’ve just used my US one, but I like the idea of switching off my main cell and forgetting about all the shit I’ve left behind.
My parents and Audrey are the only people I need to stay in contact with, so I shoot them a quick text ensuring they have my new number. Briefly, I contemplate messaging Reeve from my US cell, but I think better of it. I need to cut ties, and it’s best to start out how I mean to go on. It’s hard though, because I’m used to sharing everything with him without even thinking about it. It’s second nature to call him or message him, but I guess I’ll eventually break the habit.
I spend a couple of hours unpacking all my stuff and hanging it in my closet. Then I dress more warmly in boots, jeans, and my thickest sweater, grab my jacket, and head out to explore. My inability to sleep properly on the plane is affecting me now, and I need to keep busy to stop myself from falling asleep. Classes start in three days, and I need to have reset my body clock by then. I’m determined to stay awake for as long as possible today.
The instant I step outside, I’m accosted by a blast of cold air I feel deep in my bones. “Holy shit,” I mumble to myself. “There’s cold, and there’s Ireland.” At least the rain has stopped, which is a bonus. Pulling up Google maps, I follow the sidewalks to Grafton Street. Ciara said it’s the best place to shop, and she suggested I try Brown Thomas, a high-end department store.
I have to walk past Trinity College on the way, and I can’t resist taking a peek. I’m wearing the biggest smile as I pass under Trinity’s famous granite campanile—the iconic bell tower. Superstition says anyone passing under the campanile when the bell chimes will fail their exams, so apparently, many students refuse to walk under it.
I’m determined to be strong and brave.
To emerge from the wreckage of my heartbreak like a new woman, and from now on, I’m going to laugh in fate’s face.
With that in mind, I walk back and forth under the bell tower for several minutes, gathering plenty of inquisitive stares from the men and women walking across the campus.
Taking out my phone, I snap a ton of pics as I stroll among the impressive gray stone buildings, admiring the exquisite architecture. The campus is pristine and clearly well-maintained. Ghosts of students past seem to hover around me, and the air vibrates with the history of the surroundings. My glee elevates with every step I take, reaffirming the decision I made to come here.
Something about this place feels so right.