Baby Cove

Ireland.

Chapter 1

Ashley entered the dining room of the small B & B, but all the tables were occupied. Patrick, the jovial innkeeper, took her by the arm and walked her over to a table where a gentleman sat reading his New York Times. If looks could kill, she didn’t know which one of them would be struck dead on the floor first—she or Patrick.

Jon, I’d like you to meet Ashley. There’s no room at any other table and I’m sure you’ll be glad to share.

Jon recovered, realizing how inhospitable he must look, and said, Sure, have a seat, Ashley.

I’m gonna kill that Patrick. Why is he seating this teeny bopper with me? She looks about 14 years old. She probably won’t shut up and may even burst out singing one of my songs if I give her the chance.

Ashley sensed his displeasure immediately and said, Thanks for sharing the table with me, Jon. Please don’t put your paper down. I have my laptop with me and have to catch up on some work. Now I won’t feel guilty about it.

He’s old, but so good-looking. Sandy colored curly hair. Light blue eyes that you can look right into. What a shame he’s such a cranky ass.

She set up her computer and started work immediately. The only time she spoke was when the waitress came over to take their breakfast orders. At one point she uttered, holy crap and grabbed her calculator. His paper came down so fast he almost knocked his coffee over. She muttered, Sorry and went on with her work. A few minutes later, she burst out laughing. It was such a genuine, hearty laugh that everyone in the dining room looked over at her.

He looked at her over the top of his paper and over the top of his horn-rimmed glasses. Boy, this girl is beautiful. That smile, those teeth. Gorgeous! Too bad she isn’t twenty years older.

She looked back at him and laughingly said, My partner sends me one joke a day at the end of our daily business email. Sorry for disturbing your quiet breakfast, but this is the funniest one I’ve seen in a long time. Here, read it. It’ll change your mood, and she turned the laptop towards him. I hope it changes his mood!

Jon had no recourse but to read it. He got to the end and burst out laughing—even harder than she had. The rest of the dining room started laughing and someone yelled, Read it to us too. She turned the computer back to herself and started reading:

Perfect Comeback

I took my dad to the mall the other day to buy some new shoes (he’s 66).

We decided to grab a bite at the food court.

I noticed he was watching someone sitting next to him.

The teenager had spiked hair in all different colors:

Blue, green, orange, red and purple

And my dad kept staring at her.

The teen would look over and find my dad staring, every time.

When she’d finally had enough, she sarcastically asked:

What’s the matter old man, never done anything wild in your life?

Knowing my dad, I quickly swallowed my food so I wouldn’t choke on his response.

I knew he’d have a good one!

In classic style, he responded without batting an eyelid:

"Got stoned once and had sex with a peacock ….

I was just wondering if you were my daughter."

That broke the ice for these vacationers who had just met each other and intended to spend a week or two in close quarters. They all left the dining room in great spirits.

She and Jon finished their breakfast in near silence except for the please pass the salt brief sentences. Patrick came by and announced that the guests would be leaving for the castle tour in one hour promptly and asked if Jon would like to join them since he was the only one who hadn’t signed up yet.

He got that solemn, and what Ashley described as cranky-ass look on his face again and said, No, Patrick, don’t think I’ll be joining you today. I’ve got some work to do.

Patrick looked disappointed and walked away and Jon started to rise. Ashley saw that everyone else had left the dining room and motioned to Jon to sit down again. I have something to say to you in private. Her green eyes were flashing when she told him he was the most prejudiced guy she’d ever met. These tours might be fun and they’ll certainly be educational. Have you even looked at the brochures?

Jon’s eyes opened as wide as saucers. No one ever talked to him like that. Except maybe his mother, father, brothers and sisters-in-law. Does she know who I am? He was incredulous—me prejudiced! I have so many different races in my band that at first glance you wouldn’t know what country we were from. What’s with this girl?

What in the world are you talking about? You’ll have to look far and wide to find someone less prejudiced than I am!

"I’m talking about you being prejudiced against me. You looked at me and immediately assumed I was some kind of a bratty kid. Well, I’m not a kid. I’m going to be twenty-five next Wednesday, as a matter of fact. Haven’t you learned that it isn’t the chronological age, it’s what’s inside? So, put that in your pipe and smoke it, she thought.

Face the facts; you are really age-challenged! She got up; eyes still flashing and gave him the last zinger. You can disprove what I just said by joining us on the tour. I’m saving the seat next to me for you. She then turned and marched out of the room. At the door, she turned around toward him and smiled. See you on the bus, Jon.

He sat there for about five minutes—wondering what had hit him. Haven’t felt this upset by anything anyone has said to me in years. What the hell!

# # # #

Ashley was just able to get a quick e-mail off to her grandmother before the tour—which she tried to do every day. Today she wrote, Dear Gram: The B & B is just what I expected—lovely. We’re going on a castle tour this a.m. Patrick seems to have paired me off with an old guy who’s a chronic crank. His name is Mr. Jon Crankass. Ooops! Not nice of me! He’s going to be my challenge for the week. I’ll try to get him out of his slump. Actually got him to laugh at breakfast this morning. Love you, miss you. Ashley

Chapter 2

Everyone was seated in the van patiently waiting for him when he got on at the last minute. He looked like a petulant child who was being forced to go to the opera. He took the seat next to Ashley and she smiled broadly at him and patted his hand. Like a mother forgiving her child’s latest tantrum.

She was right! The tour of the castles was good. Their guide knew every nook and cranny of each room, and Ashley took what seemed to be hundreds of photos. He seriously wondered about that until they had a chance to talk. And talk they did. She explained to him that she was an artist and could fall back on many of the pictures for background, if not painting the picture itself. She was animated and he could tell she really loved her work. She and her partner, Christopher Adkins, had opened an art gallery in Virginia right after she got out of college. He took a chance on her youth, she emphasized that part of the sentence, by offering her a partnership and it looks like it paid off. They’ve been in business, successfully mind you, for four years already.

The other guests on the tour were the two older couples from the Inn. Martha and Frank Murphy were from Chicago and this was their first trip abroad. Alice and Joe McGrath were from Rhode Island and they reminded him of his folks—a little bit crazy. Joe had them laughing all the time. They were all friendly, but not intrusive, and everyone got along fine. So, he joined them for the second venture the next day which was to the moors. He was beginning to really enjoy the rides with her and he talked about his family. He told her family stories that had her laughing out loud. He described his brothers in minute detail, and said he loved his sisters-in-law, but couldn’t understand how they married those jerks. He found himself telling her a story that was buried so deeply in his mind that he never before spoke of it.

"When I was five years old, my cousin Danny, who was also five, died of leukemia. His mom and dad are Aunt Eileen and Uncle Charlie. She’s my mom’s sister and that’s who my folks are on vacation with right now. Danny was my best friend and I was messed up for a year after—couldn’t understand death—still can’t. We had a savant who lived in town, was probably in his late teens or early twenties, who sang at Sunday mass each week. Danny and I were fascinated by him. He was blind, had to be led wherever he went by one of his parents, and he couldn’t speak an understandable sentence. But when he opened his mouth to sing, it was like God put someone else in there. He had one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard. He sang Oh Danny Boy at Danny’s funeral. If I ever have a son, and I would love to have children, I’ll name him Danny. Daniel Jonathan. I’m Jonathan Daniel. That’s if I get married again and my wife approves."

Ashley noticed Jon’s voice getting tight as he told the story and tears were welling in her eyes as she listened to it. She chose to ignore the married again in his last statement and figured when he was ready to tell her about it, he would. She put her hand over his to let him know she was touched by the loss of his young cousin too.

They came across a young girl herding sheep in the moors and you would think Ashley struck gold. She asked the driver to stop so that she could get some pictures. The girl’s name was Chloe and she was thrilled with all the attention Ashley gave her. Posing her was no problem—she did whatever Ashley wanted and he noticed that Ashley put some bills in her apron pocket when she was through shooting. The Murphys and McGraths took pictures too and didn’t mind waiting for Ashley. She was golden in their eyes.

If possible, Ashley shot more pictures here than she had at the castles. It was a long ride home and on the way back, someone started singing. Ashley joined in and then Jon did. When the song was over, she looked at him in amazement. Jon, you have a beautiful voice.

He had a puzzled look on his face when he asked, You really don’t know who I am, do you?

Sorry, if I heard your last name, I’ve forgotten it. Now, she looked puzzled and embarrassed, like should she know who he was. Am I missing something here? She figured she’d play it safe and be honest. Tell me who you are and what you do …. please.

"I’m the Jon LaValle of the music group. We’ve been touring Europe for the past year and I badly needed a break before we go to London next month. I have the worst case of burnout in the world. Haven’t been able to write anything worth a damn in years. That’s why I seemed so grumpy to you. I was madder at myself than anyone else. I feel like the music left me—there’s nothing left. It’s like a part of me is dead inside." After he told her, he realized he had never told anyone about his musical impotence before. It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders.

Now she really felt terrible because after this guy unloaded on her, she still had no idea who he was and she was searching for what to say. Had she ever heard of him? What were some of his songs? Finally it dawned on her and when she did speak, she said the worst possible thing she could say to him, which was, Oh, now I know who you are. My grandmother has all of your CDs.

If she had slapped him across the face, he couldn’t have looked more crushed, and it didn’t get any better when she realized her error and kept trying to smooth it over. You should see my grandmother. She acts like she’s younger than me. And, She has great taste in music. Oh crap, I really screwed up, she said to herself. They rode home in silence. His hurt feelings were palpable. When they reached the inn, she asked him if he’d accompany her to a pub in town that night. There was supposed to be a good band playing. When he mumbled something under his breath that she assumed was I’ll see, she took him by the hand and led him to a picnic table outside, where they could not be overheard.

What, am I in for another Bossy Ashley lecture?

Yes, you are! Your fragile personality is getting in our way. I don’t even know, and it matters less to me, how old you are. You’re starting to act like you’re 80. No, excuse me. That would be an insult to some 80 year olds that I know!

He told her he was 43 and she said "so". Her partner was 49 and that didn’t stop him from being one of her best friends. So, are we going to the pub together tonight, and say it with enthusiasm.

Yes, Ms. Bossy Ash. He made an exaggerated bow and asked her what time she would be ready to leave. When he got back to his room, he still didn’t know what hit him, but music was running through his head.

At the appointed time, he went down to the lobby—almost feeling like the obedient son again when she came flying down the stairs in a short, summery, flowered dress. She had some makeup on and her hair was in an upsweep. And her high heels were clicking on the stairs. He must have been standing there with his mouth open because she said, What! You didn’t think I owned a dress? She could have been a model. She was absolutely gorgeous!

The O’Briens and Murphys came into the lobby right then and Ashley invited them all to come along to the pub. When they agreed, she decided to ask Patrick. If we were all at the pub, there was no need for him to man the front desk. He was thrilled to be included and they all headed for the front door.

Jon looked at her wistfully and said in a soft drawl, but loud enough for everyone to hear, Yes, you surely missed your calling, Ms. Ashley. You should be the director of a senior center. Look how you gather us up and take us away.

She playfully punched him in the arm and said, Shut up, Jon, and just follow me. They were all laughing as they walked toward the pub, which was only two blocks from the Inn.

It turned out to be a night of fun. The food was good and the music was great. Jon danced every dance he could with Ashley, but a few of the young Irish studs spotted her as soon as she walked in the door—big surprise! He had to cut in three times to get her back. After a fast dance was over and they headed back to the table, she said to him, very seriously, Jon, you’re an excellent dancer. She really didn’t know that all of his shows were choreographed and he had performed hundreds of times over his career.

He leaned in to her and whispered, I can sing too, just ask your grandmother.

She looked into his eyes for what seemed like a long minute and then they both burst out laughing. Maybe it was the beer, but she thought there might be hope for this guy after all!

They each danced with the other couples from the Inn and she danced with Patrick, who told her in no uncertain terms how beautiful she was and thanked her for getting Jon out of his pity pot. Jon, not to be outdone by Ashley, cut in on her and danced with Patrick too.

After they walked home, she asked him again to talk to her out at the picnic table. What did I do now? I thought my behavior was exemplary. So?

Oh, man. Mr. Fragile Ego, I just want to ask you a question. I have to paint. My creative juices are flowing and I haven’t had a paintbrush in my hand for three weeks. I guess the sights and experiences here are doing something for me because I just have to paint. I’m not going on the tour tomorrow and Patrick told me about a beautiful cove that’s not too far away and said I could use his jeep. The locals call it Baby Cove because the waves are so gentle and the sand is as soft as a baby’s bottom. I just need to get away and paint. She was so emphatic with her statement about needing to paint that he understood completely because it correlated with his need to write music. She was silent for a few moments and his heart lurched. He couldn’t imagine a whole day without her, when she continued. I wondered if you’d like to go with me. Cookie is making a picnic lunch and I thought you could bring your newspaper or maybe a book. I don’t know—I just wondered if you’d want to join me.

When he felt that he could speak again, he told her he’d love to join her tomorrow. Creative juices flowing—she should only know. He now had music and lyrics running through his head.

It was late when he got up to his room, but it only took him a half hour to get the lyrics of the song in his heart down on paper. Something he hadn’t been able to do in years! He wanted to start on the melody, but knew it would be an all-nighter and decided to do that tomorrow while she painted.

He reread his lyrics one more time before going to sleep.

Too Young for Me

Sweet girl, you have to go away.

You’re too young for me.

That’s what people say.

Your innocence is real

You don’t know how I feel

I’m starting to be drawn

Move on. Move on.

Go away girl, before it’s too late

If you don’t leave, what is my fate?

Please set me free, please let me be.

Go away girl, you’re too young for me.

This was his first admission to himself of what he was starting to feel for this young, beautiful girl who had suddenly come into his life and changed it so dramatically. He wondered if he should change his name from Jon to Dom, for dirty old man.

Frank Murphy whispered to Martha when they got home from the pub that night, If I didn’t know better, I’d say that guy got laid tonight. Did you see the look on his face?

Martha gave him a good whack in the shoulder. You are such a pig! Is that all you ever think about?

Chapter 3

Patrick served them breakfast in the morning. The Murphys and McGraths never even made it down to the dining room. Hung over, he guessed. Heck, Jon though the probably would have slept in too if he wasn’t running on adrenalin. Ashley had on shorts and a tank top and instructed him, in her usual bossy way, to go back to his room and put a bathing suit on under his shorts in case they wanted to go for a swim.

She had packed her painting supplies in the back of Patrick’s jeep and he put his guitar and music notebooks on the backseat with the picnic basket. When he put his music in the jeep, Ashley wondered if he did so because he was just going to try to write, or had a little bit of his ability come back. In either case, she was very happy for him. By nine a.m. they were off on what turned out to be a life-altering trip for them.

Ashley had a map opened on the front seat between them and about a half hour out of town, they started looking for the dirt road that would take them toward the sea. Patrick had said to look for a thick stand of pine trees, but the opening was so hard to spot that they passed it a couple of times before taking the chance that it was a road. Even with the jeep, it was tough going and it didn’t look like anyone had driven on it for years. Patrick had assured her in his lilting, not always so understandable, Irish brogue that she would be hard-pressed to find a more beautiful spot than this.

The overgrown trail through the pines suddenly opened up to a small grassy clearing with a low bank to a sandy beach. He was right! Oh my God, they both said in unison. They were in a small cove with rock cliffs on either side. The whole cove was not quite the size of a football field. The water was calm and blue-green, the sea grass swayed with a slight breeze, the sky was cloudless, and tall pines grew on either side of the grass clearing so they could get out of the sun. She wasted no time, practically flew out of the jeep, and walked the whole length of the bank to find the best spot to set up her easel. It was a difficult decision because there were so many pictures to paint in this beautiful place. Jon climbed down the bank and walked to a huge rock, practically centered on the beach. He claimed his spot, but not until Ashley made him slather up with sun screen and put a baseball cap on his head, did she let him go down again with his guitar and notebook