Chibs opened his eyes and stretched languidly. A soft ocean breeze rippled the gauzy white curtains that diffused the bright rays of the morning sun. "Good morning, sleepyhead," Aoife said. She refolded the flyer she was reading and set it on the nightstand.
Chibs rolled over, resting his head on her lap and smiling up at her. "Mornin', beautiful."
She stroked his hair. "The hotel breakfast is nothing to write home about. Just some cold cereal and pastries. I brought back a Danish for each of us."
"Thank you, lass. We'll go out for somethin' to eat. There's a place just round the corner that serves the closest thing to a traditional Irish breakfast you'll find in California. What were you reading?"
"Local attractions flyer. Picked it up at the front desk."
"Anything catch your fancy?" She offered it to him, and Chibs propped it on his stomach.
Aoife grinned sheepishly. "Not sure you would want to go, but the crafts and antique show." He stroked his goatee and pretended to be displeased with the idea. "There's an antique and used bookstore across the street," she informed him with a sly smile.
Chibs raised his rough hands in mock-surrender. "You win. You know what I like, lass."
"Indeed I do," Aoife agreed, trailing her fingernails down the side of his neck, eliciting a pleased sound from the Scot's mouth.
"What time's that craft thing running?" he asked.
"'Til 6. So we've got time. Me, I was thinking of taking a nice, long shower," she said. Aoife slid her legs off the side of the bed and stood. She dragged her fingertips along the side of his face and through his hair before sauntering towards the bathroom. She reached the doorway before Chibs caught up. He pinned her against the door frame with his body, his lips and tongue pressing on her willing mouth.
"Better let me help you with that," he breathed on her parted lips, his fingers deftly unbuttoning her top.
"I was hoping you'd say that," Aoife retorted between kisses.
Chibs leaned against a tree at the trolley stop. He observed the other waiting tourists through the polarized lenses of his sunglasses. He felt exposed without his cut, with only a black undershirt and a muted purple button-down between himself and the wind, but he must have still given off a dangerous aura, based on the way that the other people stared and inched away. As soon as he and Aoife strolled up to the trolley sign, the Hawaiian-shirt clad man had planted himself between Chibs and everyone else, and the women were whispering between pointed glances.
Chibs considered how he must look. Some of the black ink of his tattoos peeked out from under the sleeves of his shirt, and he still wore his baggy black pants with the chains. And then of course, he grimaced, there were always the scars that marred his face. The wind shifted, and snatches of the other tourists' conversation floated by his ears – "look at his face," "such a pretty girl," "can't imagine why she's with him," "she could surely do better."
Aoife overheard, too, and stood on tiptoe to press a kiss next to his ear and whisper, "I don't see how I could possibly do better. I love you." The corners of his lips turned up instantly. Chibs snaked his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss into her curly hair.
"Love you, too, lass."
She ran her hand lovingly down the side of his face and jaw, finally tugging at the scarf knotted loosely at his throat. "Nice to see my gift is getting some use."
"Like I'm not going to wear something that my gorgeous, sexy old lady picked out just for me," Chibs replied, bending to give her a hot kiss. His hand on her back flipped the bird at the gaping, gossiping women.
"Not your grandmother's craft fair," Aoife read the banner above the gate. She raised an eyebrow.
"So, not just rows and rows of those little fucking lace doilies?" Chibs mused. "One of the only things I remember about my Gran was those little things fucking everywhere in her flat."
Aoife chuckled, slipping her hand into his, and glanced at the first booth, which featured handmade felt monster plushies in bright, cheerful colors. Black and white cemetery photographs hung in the next booth, and the one after that displayed bags constructed from recycled clothing. "I think you're safe. Not a doily in sight."
Chibs allowed Aoife to set the pace of their travel through the aisles, enjoying watching her browse. Her easy laugh was back, and her cheerful demeanor that day was a welcome contrast to her dark mood over the previous week. "Oh, these are beautiful!" she commented, as much to herself as him, as she stopped.
The artist, a woman with close-cropped black hair, greeted them from her stool. "Good morning! Those earrings and necklaces are made with vintage glass marbles." Aoife nodded, already flipping through the basket of earring cards. "For the pendants, you can choose either a chain or a cord made of sari silk."
"Oh, Filip, look at these!" Aoife held up an earring card. The earrings were cobalt blue marbles with silver-colored findings.
"Perfect. You know how much I love blue on ya. Brings out your eyes."
The artist held up a strip of blue fabric. "In that case, you may want to see this sari silk cord." She offered it to Aoife, who accepted it with delight, pulling it through her fingers to examine the color variation.
"I'll hold it while you pick out a pendant, a chuisle."
Five minutes later, they walked away from the booth with Aoife wearing her new cobalt blue marble earrings and a clear iridescent marble pendant on the deep blue sari silk cord. "Thank you, Filip," Aoife smiled as she intertwined her fingers with his again.
"Anything for my lass," he answered with a kiss.
The two lovers walked further, Chibs insisting on paying for a number of items that caught Aoife's eye – two jewel-toned, hand-dyed silk scarves, a pair of earrings made from miniature teacups and saucers, and an apron made with cupcake fabric.
At a corner, Chibs stopped to watch an artist at work. She was working on an aluminum strip, stamping a personalized message into the metal one letter at a time. Aoife drifted over to the display. Once the woman finished the stamping, she began to curve aluminum into a cuff bracelet.
"These are sweet," Aoife murmured, trying to sound out the messages on a series of cuff bracelets on display with varying degrees of success. "Je t'aime, Ich liebe dich, Aloha Au Ia 'Oe, Tá grá agam duit, Ti amo…" Her eyes scanned characters she couldn't read but assumed were Hebrew, Cyrillic, Arabic, and Chinese. Then she stopped, picked up a bracelet, and called Chibs over.
"Aye, love?" he asked. She handed him the aluminum cuff, and he read it. "Tha gaol agam ort." Two thistles flanked the words. A series of feelings washed over Chibs in rapid succession. Among them were surprise, nostalgia, regret, homesickness, and comfort. Ho long had it been since he had read or heard his native Scottish Gaelic? He withdrew the money from his wallet and handed it to the artist.
"Need a bag?" She offered.
"Nay," he shook his head without really seeing her. He placed the cuff bracelet on Aoife's wrist and then cupped her face in both of his hands as he kissed her passionately.
At the used bookstore, Chibs selected a few volumes of poetry. "What're you thinkin' now, lass?" he asked Aoife as they stepped onto the street.
Glancing at her watch, she yawned. "It's only 2? Maybe we could head back to the hotel and I could lie down for a bit. I may spend all day on my feet, but walking on the hard concrete is getting to me."
"Back to the hotel it is, then." He shifted the bags of their purchases to one hand so that they could hold hands. When they reached the trolley stop, they sank down on the unoccupied bench.
"So, what did you get at the bookshop?" She asked. Chibs passed the bag to her, and she peered inside, reading out the names of poets. "How Do I Love Thee?: Love Poems through Time?" she said.
"Oh, aye, that one's for you." He grinned.
Aoife chuckled "You are going to have to stop buying me things, or we won't be able to get everything home on the bike."
Chibs pulled her in for a kiss, tasting her sweet lips. "Lies. I'm not done spoiling ya."
Aoife speared another piece of steak with her fork and popped it in her mouth. Taking another sip of wine, she commented, "You know, if Juice ever needs a new career, he's a hell of a travel agent."
"Aye, that he seems to be. I'd mock him, but then he won't help me next time. Guess I'll stick to giving him shit about that stupid fucking haircut." Chibs replied with a smirk.
"This place is perfect. The view is amazing." The four star restaurant was in a converted Victorian house that sat on a bluff overlooking the ocean. They sat on one of the second floor porches, a space just large enough for a cast iron table and two chairs.
Chibs reached across the table to caress Aoife's cheek. "The view is fucking amazing," he commented. "You look fucking fantastic tonight. I can't take my eyes off you." She still wore the cobalt blue jewelry he had bought for her earlier in the day, but she had traded in her capris and t-shirt for a wine-colored wrap dress and black shrug. Her hair was twisted into a knot, and a few shorter tendrils had slipped out to frame her face.
Aoife blushed. "You look awfully handsome yourself."
"So, love, I did get you one more thing today," Chibs said. "I hope you'll like it, and you won't think that it's silly or anything."
"You're cute when you're nervous," Aoife winked at him.
"Cute?" Chibs grumbled good-naturedly. "I ain't cute, least not if the boys ask." He reached into the breast pocket of his silvery dress shirt and withdrew a small navy blue box. "I got you this." He opened the box to reveal a white gold claddagh ring set with a sapphire. It might seem a little cliché, since Claddagh is part of Galway and you're from Galway…"
Aoife silenced him with a finger on his lips. "It's beautiful." She allowed Chibs to slide it onto her left ring finger.
"When you look at it, remember, it's the closest I can come to putting a ring on your finger right now." Aoife moved her hand back and forth, watching the gem sparkle in the dim lighting. Then she giggled. "What's funny, lass?"
Instead of answering him, Aoife reached into her evening bag and pulled out a second small navy blue box. "Just seems we were thinking on the same lines," she explained as she popped it open. Nestled in the white satin was a gunmetal-colored band with a claddagh etched on it. "Wear my ring, and I'll wear yours?" she suggested, her pulse quickening.
Chibs' accent thickened, choked with emotion. "Aye. Why don't you help me put it on?"
The bracelets say "I love you" in different languages.
Je t'aime - French
Ich liebe dich – German
Aloha Au Ia 'Oe – Hawaiian
Tá grá agam duit – Irish Gaelic
Ti amo – Italian
Tha gaol agam ort – Scottish Gaelic