“Fine, I’m going to have to be ossified,” I say as I take a hearty sip of my whiskey, needing the liquid courage.

Kane lets out a long laugh as he shakes his head. “Not tonight, my friend. You need time to adjust to the idea, savor it, but when you’re ready, I am.”

I nod because I know that Kane would do just about anything for me, as I would for him. That’s what twenty years of friendship gives you, and I’m thankful for that. But the question is—when will I be ready? As I look around the place that I know I can’t live without, I figure I need to get ready pretty quickly.

Because I can’t lose this.

One would think that after a month of living and working in a very busy pub in Ireland that I would at least know what people are saying when they talk to me.

But I don’t.

“I plan on being pissy drunk,” one of my patrons informs me with a slight slur or maybe that’s his brogue, not sure, but he seems excited.

I look back at my cousin, Fiona, confused, and she shakes her head, a smile playing on her pouty lips. “He plans on getting really drunk tonight,” she says in her just-as-thick Irish accent. It has been Americanized though, thankfully, from having an American for a father.

I look back, meeting the gaze of my elderly patron as I pass him his pint of beer, and smile. His green eyes are shining, and he is wearing an intoxicating grin with a long, scruffy beard. I have to admit, I don’t know him, but I know he is going to make my night. People like this make me love my job. I love meeting the people, talking to them, despite not knowing what they are talking about half the time. I love working in the high pace that the pub requires, and I love working with my cousin. I never would have thought this a month ago, but I love being a bartender!

“Sounds like a plan!”

He takes a long pull of his beer and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before pointing his finger at me. “American, yes?”

I nod. “Guilty as charged. Only been here a month.”

And what a month it has been. Of course, my Aunt Shelia and Uncle Michael have been unbelievably accommodating and have given me a lovely home. It isn’t the home I had with my mom and dad, but they love me as if I were theirs. Shelia is excited to have me, and always talks about how much she loved my dad and mom. It’s refreshing. I think she expected to get some heartbroken girl and while yes, I am heartbroken and I miss them more than ever, I had time to accept that my mother was leaving me. So while I may still have my moments of complete heartbreak, where I sob until I can’t breathe because I miss her, I am able to go on with my life and do as she asked.

Live each day as if I were dying.

When I got here, though, I was scared. Shit, I’m still scared, but her letter that my aunt had waiting for me was so comforting. I knew that I had to do everything that the letter said. I also memorized it, remembering everything about it, because I never wanted to forget my mother’s words, her handwriting, or how the letter smelled like soft roses. Just like her favorite perfume that my dad had given her. While she told me repeatedly that she loved me, and that she was sorry she had to leave me, she also gave me three things she wanted me to do this year.

Take a risk.

Do something drastic.

Fall in love.

While each one scares me to the core, I haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, since I have been settling and adjusting to life here. I don’t even know what I’m going to do though! Take a risk? Yeah, no clue. Do something drastic? Um, a tattoo is drastic, right? Yeah, I can do that as soon as I get over my fear of needles. And fall in love? Is she crazy? All I’ve ever done with a boy is kiss one, and she wants me to fall in love? Jesus, that involves sex, doesn’t it? Since no one has ever been in my pants, that could pose a problem. A huge one! I’m pretty sure I’m the only virgin in Cong, County Mayo, and that is just downright sad. My mom is asking for a lot, but I can’t help but love her more for each word she wrote. She wants me to start over, she wants me to be happy, and I have every intention of doing that.

I miss my home, but I believe in what my mom is doing here. Plus, Uncle Felix has everything under control. Surprising, I know. We stay in contact weekly. He is living in my home, packing up my parent’s things, and moving his in because he is starting a new life in Tennessee. If I come back after the year, then he’ll move out and find his own place but if I don’t, he plans to buy the house from me.

I never expected him to be so helpful. This transition has been great, and I think that’s because of my mom’s hard work. She knew what she was doing. I have to trust her, and I know I have to leave all caution in the wind. Something I’ve never done. I’ve always been the one to be ahead on things, caring for my mother, paying all the bills on time or even days before. I have never just lived, and this is my chance. My chance to be me—Amberlyn Reilly.

Not sure who that is, but I am excited to get to know her.

The other great thing about this transition has been that my cousin and I have become instant best friends. Completely awesome, right? I totally love her. She is the sister I never had and simply breathtaking. Fiona is a year older than I am, with sweet, bluish-green eyes and long, brownish-golden hair with high cheekbones covered in light freckles, and pouty lips. She is stunning, slim, but thick in all the right places. The boys go gaga for her in the pub, but she ignores them all. She is my lifesaver, especially when the older customers with the thick brogues come in. I have no clue what they are saying to me, but she’s ran the pub for so long that she has no problem getting them what they need while I stand there like a fish out of water.

I don’t let it derail me though. I am on a mission to make a new life. Hopefully, while I’m at it, I’ll catch on to this language.

“Céad Míle Fáilte!”

That’s the name of the Bed and Breakfast, but that doesn’t mean I know what it means. I glance over to a smiling Fiona and she says, “He is saying welcome, like a thousand welcomes.”

“Oh, awesome, thanks! It’s wonderful to meet you!” I gush as I go to the next patron and the next. My night is busy, but that’s what I’ve come to expect from the Céad Míle Fáilte. It’s the best, and the busiest, pub/B&B in all of Mayo, as numerous people have told me every night.

“He’s here,” Fiona says as she passes by me. I glance up from the pint I’m filling to look at her as she lays down a plate of food for one of my customers. Her face is flush, a grin pulling at her lips.