The crumpled sheets sighed as Kelsey swept them to one side and got out of bed, wincing when her feet touched the cold wooden floor. She curled a blanket over her satin nightdress and pushed open the window.
The rain-washed air was crisp, cool, and exhilarating. It smelled of Irish wildflowers and the faint aroma of freshly baked bread.
It felt good to be here, to be alive.
Kelsey exhaled softly as she looked out at the ocean. She still wasn't sure what happiness meant, exactly. Maybe it was waking in the morning to birds chirping, knowing in her heart that she had made the right choices. Maybe it was standing barefoot in her bedroom, watching weak light streaming through the soft curtains and listening to the fridge humming downstairs. If that was the definition of happiness, then right now, at this moment, she was happy.
She strode out of the room, her stomach rumbling. When she reached the third step, the doorbell rang and made her jump. She descended the rest of the stairs and opened the door. Her heart fluttered when she saw the man standing on her doorstep.
Shaun wore a black turtleneck and carried a foil-covered ceramic bowl in the crook of his arm. "Did I wake you?"
Pulling the blanket tighter around herself, she moved aside. "No. Come on in."
"Sorry to disturb. I won't be staying long. I just came to drop this off." He indicated the bowl.
"What's that?"
"Potato soup."
Kelsey tilted her head to one side. "You made it yourself?"
"No, Sarah did. I went to see her and Brian this morning, and she insisted I take it since it's cold today."
"So, why are you giving it to me? It was meant for you."
"You were pretty soaked yesterday. This would rule out any chance of you catching a cold. I'll put it in the kitchen."
Kelsey let him, afraid if she moved too much the blanket might shift or fall. "Thanks."
She was about to sneak back upstairs to change when he called her name.
She reached the kitchen doorway and gasped. The whole kitchen floor, as well as the cupboards and kitchen table, were covered in water. She had left the windows open last night.
Shaun placed the soup on the dining table. "Do you have a mop?"
"In the bathroom. I'll get it."
Kelsey returned a few minutes later dressed in a tracksuit with the pants rolled up and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She carried a mop, a bucket, and several towels.
Before she stepped into the kitchen, Shaun stopped her. "May I?" He removed his shoes and reached for the mop.
She extended it to him. "Thanks. I'll wipe the cupboards and table."
"What are you doing today?" He soaked the mop on the floor and wrung it out over the bucket.
"I'm meeting Maeve. I'm going to see her at the salon for a haircut."
"That's a shame." He studied her. "You have beautiful hair."
Heat spread across Kelsey's cheeks and she touched a lock of hair that had come free from the ponytail. "Thanks."
"It wasn't meant to be a compliment. I'm only telling the truth." He winked at her then continued with his job.
Kelsey didn't reply. She didn't know what to say, and her mouth had suddenly gone dry.
When the water was finally sopped up, Shaun leaned the mop against the wall. "I think we're done here."
"Thanks for your help, Shaun. I appreciate it."
"What kind of neighbor would I be if I didn't help?"
Kelsey found herself wishing he'd done it not to be neighborly, but because he liked her. She already liked him without even wanting to.
***
"He sounds like a catch. What are you waiting for?" Delia asked when Kelsey called later that morning.
Typical Delia. When she liked someone, she didn't waste time, and often got her fingers burned. At twenty-seven, she had already been divorced once, after marrying a man she had only dated for a month. Now she was in love with her boss at the interior design firm where she worked, and was waiting for him to catch her eye.
"He's just being a good neighbor, that's all."
"A neighbor can always change into something else."
"Maybe, but I'm not ready for that something else. I thought I was ready to move on in that department as well, but... I don't know." She still had a bitter taste in her mouth after Craig.
"Then have one hot night with the man and walk away. You don't have to enter into a relationship."
"You're crazy. You know I'm not like that."
"Kelsey, for once in your life, let down your hair and do something crazy. For years you've worked yourself to the bone. You're only twenty-nine. Why not have fun while you're there?"
"Hey, I did do something crazy. I got drunk on my second night here, remember?" The splitting headache that had followed that little adventure was unforgettable.
"That's nothing. People get drunk all the time. You need to do something bigger and more rewarding. Have a one-night stand or two."
Kelsey shook her head, laughing. She couldn't imagine sleeping with a man and not getting attached. "No way."
"Come on, Kelsey, you've been a good girl long enough to last you a lifetime. Haven't you ever wondered how it must feel to have one wild night with a hot guy, without all the complications that come with being in a relationship? You've been single for a year. Time for you to get back in the game."
Kelsey digested her friend's words in silence. Delia was right. She had been a good girl for too long. And where had it gotten her? Nowhere.
"That neighbor of yours could be the one to convert you." Delia laughed.
Kelsey bit her lip, thinking of the first time she saw Shaun. How would it feel to be in his arms? To have him do things to her she blushed just thinking about?
"So, will you do it?"
"I'll think about it." She moved the phone to her other ear. "Now drop it. I called to tell you I'm getting a haircut today."
"Since when do you cut your hair?"
Apart from an occasional trim, Kelsey had never had her hair cut before. "It's time for something new."
"Good for you. Email me a photo."
***
"Take a seat, Kelsey." Maeve pointed to an empty padded chair. "I'll be with you in a second."
Kelsey sat and crossed her legs. She pretended to leaf through a magazine she'd brought with her as she eavesdropped on the conversations going on in between shampoos and hairsprays. When the conversation steered to Shaun, her ears pricked up.
"I heard something tragic chased him from the United States. He's definitely running from something," said a woman sitting under a hooded dryer as she inspected her nails. She had a button nose and a missing tooth.
"Who cares? A town can never have enough good-looking men," added another hairdresser who was sweeping the floor.
Kelsey lifted her feet so the woman could sweep away someone's hair with a broom that was missing half its bristles.
"You're married, Emma," Maeve scolded.
"I'm talking on behalf of the single women of Dreara."
"Still, it would be interesting to know what he's hiding," Maeve continued.
The toothless woman leaned forward. "I'm pretty sure it has to do with a woman whose heart he broke. He seems to be quite the ladies' man."
Maeve nodded. "I don't blame the women chasing after him. He looks like a Greek god."
They all laughed.
A well-preserved sixty-something woman under another hooded dryer glanced at Maeve. "He's much too mysterious for my liking. Hardly talks to anyone."
A glow flooded Kelsey's veins; she was one of the few people Shaun talked to. Not that she would say that to any of them. They'd attack her for information she didn't have.
"But at least he's friendly," Maeve defended him.
"Except when he's wandering around along the beach. I see him almost every evening when I take Fluffy for a walk. Not one word of greeting," Emma added. "And that haunted look in his eyes makes me shiver." She paused. "Anyway, I don't have to look at other men. I'm happy with my Ciaran."
Maeve gazed at Emma from the corner of her eye. "I bet you are, Emma. Your husband irons your underwear. Who wouldn't be happy in your shoes?"
Kelsey stifled a giggle.
Emma resisted defeat. "Is that jealousy I hear?"
Maeve raised an eyebrow. "Why would I be jealous? Unlike married women, I'm not tied to one man. When I see a sexy guy, I'm not only allowed to look, I'm allowed to touch."
A ripple of laughter filled the room, and Kelsey joined in without meaning to.
Suddenly, the hairdresser with the broom stopped sweeping and scanned Kelsey's face, her beady eyes squinting, and then her mouth dropped open. "Aren't you the O'Neil girl?"
Kelsey blushed and bit her lip. She had hoped not many people would recognize her here in Dreara. But all the women—except Maeve—nearly snapped their necks turning to stare.
The woman with the missing tooth gawked. "Yes, of course it's her. I saw her in the paper a while back. Something about—"
"Done." Maeve removed her client's styling cape and swiveled the salon chair around to face the large mirror, then she turned to the rest of them. "Yes, this is Kelsey O'Neil. Now stop staring at her as if she's some zoo animal. Kelsey, come on. I'm ready for you."
Relieved, Kelsey slid the magazine into her handbag and stood up. The small hairs on the back of her neck stirred as the women's gazes followed her.
"Thanks," she whispered to Maeve as she sat down.
"Don't worry about it." Maeve released Kelsey's hair from its ponytail, allowing the bouncing curls to cascade past her shoulders and down her back. "Now, do you want a subtle change or a drastic one?"
Soft curls encircled Kelsey's fingers as she ran her hands through her hair. She had often been tempted to have it cut, wondering how she would look in one of those cute bobs, but she was never brave enough. Dropping her hand to her lap, she mentally crossed her fingers and said, "drastic."
Maeve reached for a brush and ran it through Kelsey's hair, section by section. "Good decision. I know the perfect style for you."
"I hope so." Kelsey bit her bottom lip.
"Don't worry. Getting a haircut is like having an emotional makeover. This is your last chance to say no."
"Just promise to make me beautiful."
Maeve patted Kelsey's shoulder. "I'll do better than that."
Maeve brought her to a chair in front of a sink and told her to lean back. A jet of warm water flooded Kelsey's hair and scalp, and she closed her eyes. To keep herself from questioning the decision she'd just made, she followed the foamy traces Maeve's hands made along her scalp and fell into a half sleep.
From a distance, she heard the muffled sounds of gossip and breathed in the scent of the refreshing shampoo.
After a few minutes, Maeve moved her to the styling station and reached for the scissors.
The snip of the scissors made Kelsey cringe. She imagined locks of her hair falling like parachutes to the floor. In the end, she closed her eyes again and placed her trust completely in Maeve's hands.
Soon the cut was done, and the warm blast of air from the hairdryer woke up every cell of her body that was still half asleep. But she kept her eyes closed, in case what she saw made her panic.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Maeve asked.
"Like therapy."
"That's the second role of a hairdresser. We’re also therapists," Maeve whispered into Kelsey's ear. "So, have you made any moves on him yet?"
Kelsey laughed. "I never planned to," she whispered back, but she couldn't deny the little flame inside her.
"Wait till he sees you. He'll be the one making the first move." Maeve whirled her around. "Old Kelsey, meet new Kelsey."
Kelsey opened her eyes and did an inward double-take.
"What do you think?"
"I... I—wow..." Kelsey stared into the mirror, too stunned to say more. Her hair fell forward and stroked her cheeks. She had never seen it so straight or silky before.
"Woman, speak. I know you love it."
"I do. It's fun and fresh and feminine—just what I wanted. I love it." Kelsey moved her head from side to side and her locks swished wonderfully. "I feel like a new person already. Maeve, thank you."
***
In the spirit of trying out new things, Kelsey decided she would cook her first meal from scratch.
Since childhood, she had been fascinated by cooking. It all started when her father used to send her to the kitchen as punishment when she misbehaved. After a few months, she looked forward to those punishments. For a while she helped Maria out with the little things—cutting onions or peeling potatoes. Then her father found out and banned her from the kitchen.
Aidan O'Neil had been disappointed when it dawned on him that his daughter would rather stand behind a stove than focus on her schoolwork. He didn't want her to be a cook, and didn't understand why she would want to be one if she could pay someone to do it for her.
But the more he denied her the pleasure of being in the kitchen, the more her dream flourished. When he wasn't around, she sneaked right back in to watch Maria.
The grocery store, with its thatched roof, big glass windows, and fluorescent lighting, was a great combination of old and new. As she walked in, she withdrew the magazine from her bag; there was a particularly delicious-sounding lasagna recipe inside. It took ten minutes to find all the things she needed.
At home, she laid out the ingredients on the kitchen table and read through the recipe. "This can't be too hard," she said out loud, tracing her index finger down the page.
It wasn't. Not really. She cut her finger a little when she sliced the onions, but she didn't give up. She followed the instructions to the last pinch of salt and placed the lid on the pot of sauce. The hardest part was over. The only thing left to be done was remove the sauce from the hot plate and layer the dish for the oven.
Her phone rang. It was Delia, wanting to find out how the makeover went.
Kelsey checked on the sauce, then went upstairs with the phone glued to her ear.