Love & Luck(70)

All the non-Bennetts went wide-eyed with disbelief as we obediently grabbed one another’s hands.

“Ready?” Mom turned resolutely to the wall of people in front of her, Medusa Damage revealing herself in all her terrifying splendor. “COMING THROUGH.”

“Hey, watch it!” a guy in a blue hat yelled at her as she jammed her elbow into him.

“No, you watch it,” she snapped. “I’m about to ground these children for the rest of their underage lives because of this concert. The least they can do is enjoy it.”

“Damn,” Blue Hat’s friend said. “Carry on.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re your mother?” Rowan whispered, his hand tight in mine. “I don’t know who’s scarier, Maeve or Mother of Maeve.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” I whispered back.

It took us nearly the entire opening act, but my mother and her elbows managed to get us near the front, even clearing out a small pocket of space for us to stand all together. Once she stopped assaulting them, people sealed in, cinching us tightly together.

“Mom, that was amazing,” Ian said, his face rapturous. “Thank you.”

“I’m not saying you’re welcome, because that would sound like I’m condoning this,” she snapped. But the glint was still in her eye.

I did my best to settle into the crowd. My entire body felt bruised and sticky from colliding with so many Titletrack fans. Everyone was sweating. The temperature inside the crowd was at least ten degrees higher than on the outskirts.

Laser lights spilled over the stage, bathing us in bright red, and then four silhouettes appeared onstage as if by magic. “That’s them!” Ian shouted, grabbing my arm as tightly as a tourniquet. “Rowan! Addie! That’s them!”

“Ian, ease up!” I yelled, but my voice got sucked up into the vortex of screaming.

The first chords started up, and I recognized the song immediately. “Classic.” The one that had been made into a music video at the Burren. At first Ian looked too stunned to react, and then instead of smiling, a large tear zigzagged down his red-lit cheek. “What’s wrong?” I shouted.

He squeezed my arm again, his fingernails forming half-moons in my skin. “We’re here,” he said simply.

The rest of the band joined in with the song, filling my ears and anchoring me to Ian and this moment. And suddenly I was thinking about a different aspect of my future. In one year, my big brother would leave for college, and we’d be separated for the first time. What would life be like without Ian by my side?

I tried to picture it, but the only thing that sprang to mind was the road we’d followed to Electric Picnic, Ian singing along to Titletrack, Ireland green and mysterious outside our windows.

The only thing I really knew was what I had to do next.

Before I could lose my moment of certainty, I reached across Ian, tugging gently at my mom’s sleeve. “Mom, after the concert is over, I need to tell you something. Something important.” She swiveled her gaze from the stage just as Ian reached down to squeeze my hand.

The road narrowed and then got wider, then disappeared into the distance, too far for me to see what was ahead. And I just let it.





Love & Luck


You’ve come a long way, pet. Pettest of pets. You can’t imagine the pride that’s swelling up in my considerable bosom right at this moment to know that you have not only explored the Emerald Isle, but your broken heart is now MENDED. You are completely better, over-the-moon, one-door-closes-ten-more-open, beauty-in-the-pain better.

Right?

Right?

Let’s cut the crap, pet. Because now that we’re reaching the end of our time together, I feel it’s time for me to come clean. I don’t want that heart of yours to mend. And I never did.

What? Was she actually evil this whole time? No, pet. Heavens, no. Stick with me for a moment.

Do you know what I love most about humans, pet? It’s our utter, dogged stupidity. When it comes to love, we never learn. Ever. Even when we know the risks. Even when it makes much more sense to relocate to individualized climate-controlled caves where our hearts have at least a fighting chance at remaining intact. We know the risks of opening our hearts up, and yet we keep doing it anyway.

We keep falling in love and having babies and buying shoes that look incredible but feel like death. We keep adopting puppies and making friends and buying white sofas that we know we’re going to drop a slice of pizza facedown on. We just keep doing it.

Is it ignorance? Amnesia? Or is it something else? Something braver?

You opened this book because your heart was broken and you wanted it fixed. But that was never the cosmic plan. Hell, it was never my plan. Hearts break open until they stay open. It’s what they were made to do. The pain? It’s part of the deal. A small exchange for the wild, joyful mess you’ll be handed in return.

I hate good-byes, so instead, allow me to hand you one last thought, a small Irish charm to clip to your charm bracelet. Did you know that each leaf on a clover stands for something? They do, pet. Faith, hope, and love. And should you happen to find one with four leaves? Well, that’s the one that stands for luck. So, my love, I wish you all of those things. Faith, hope, love, and luck. But mostly, I wish you love. It’s its own form of luck.