Kelly Jamieson: Irish Sex Fairy

She couldn’t stay there alone.

She had to stay there alone.

She’d already annoyed Paige, Monica was away and Essie had a new baby. So Keara sat up all night watching television with every light in the condo on, and a heavy trunk in front of the balcony door.

All she wanted was to get better. She didn’t want to be like this—the nervous tightness in her stomach, the feeling of impending doom. What was wrong with her?

She had to think. What could she do? Her friends weren’t an option for her right now. She had no family—her parents had died almost eight years ago. No siblings. The only family she had was Great-aunt Maeve in Kilkenny.

Crazy Maeve. Seventy years old, never married, she owned a sex shop in the quaint tourist town just north of Santa Barbara. Keara used to spend part of her summer vacations there with her great-aunt. She liked Maeve, although as a teenager she’d been embarrassed by Maeve’s brilliant red hair, eccentric dress, and oh yeah, most of all about the way she earned her living. But everyone in the town loved Maeve.

Maeve had called her, after the incident at the bank, to make sure she was okay. Keara had reassured her aunt that she was fine. Promised to keep in touch. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Maeve had said.

Well, maybe there was.

Maybe she just needed to get away for a bit. A little vacation. Lord knew she never used all her vacation time, workaholic that she was. Maybe that was the problem.

So as the sky lightened and the sound of morning traffic on the streets began to build, she picked up the phone and dialed her aunt’s number.

Kilkenny, California

“Keara! What are you doing here?”

Keara stood in the middle of Maeve’s small shop, and stared back at her great-aunt Maeve, trying to be casual and unconcerned about the variety of sex toys and other accessories surrounding them.

“What do you mean, what am I doing here?” She’d just talked to Maeve yesterday. “You said it was okay if I came to stay with you for a while.”

Maeve’s green eyes filled with confusion and her slender auburn brows drew down over her nose. “That was next weekend. Wasn’t it?”

Keara shook her head. “No, it was this weekend. Remember? I said I’d drive up tomorrow? Which is today.”

What was going on? Had she screwed up the days when she was talking to Maeve?

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Maeve said briskly, throwing her arms around Keara. “You’re here, that’s what matters. I just…oh, never mind.” She gave her a tight hug and Keara hugged her back, her aunt’s bones frail beneath the sweater she wore. “How are you, muirnín ? I’m so glad you decided to come and visit me. It’s been too long.”

Despite having lived most of her seventy years in America, Maeve’s voice still held a faint Irish lilt.

“I hope I’m not putting you out,” Keara murmured, breathing in the spicy, exotic scent of Shalimar. It had been a long time since she’d seen her aunt. At that realization a twinge of guilt snapped inside her like an elastic band.

“Of course not!” Maeve smiled at her as they drew apart. “I told you on the phone, I’m thrilled to have you! It’s been far too long.”

Keara studied Maeve. A few more lines framed her bright eyes. Her auburn hair—completely unnatural, Keara knew, but hey, it was the color she’d been born with nearly seventy years ago—stood up in short spikes around her head. Maeve still took the time to apply makeup, and still dressed like the fashionable eccentric she’d always been—slim black pants, a black turtleneck and, draped around her neck, a shimmery gold and orange scarf.

Keara smiled back. “Thank you. I needed a vacation.”

“A vacation, hmmm? Well. That is fine,” Maeve clucked, and tucked Keara’s arm through hers to lead her to the back of the store. “Come on upstairs. Jayla will watch the store for a few minutes, won’t you, a rún ?”

Jayla, standing behind the counter, nodded her purple-spiked head. “Of course.” Maeve quickly introduced them.

“You actually have someone helping you now?” Keara said as they walked through the Staff Only door at the back, then climbed the stairs to the second floor where Maeve lived.

“Yes. Jayla’s been working here for a few months now, part-time. It’s wonderful to have someone so I can take things a little easier.”

Most people didn’t keep working into their seventies, but her aunt wasn’t like most people. She had more energy than Keara’d ever had, even when not drained by depression and stress, although Maeve took the stairs just a little slower than Keara recalled.

Maeve’s apartment above the store reflected her eclectic style, with walls painted a deep green and mismatched furniture slip-covered in spicy shades of saffron, cinnamon and sage.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I can make lunch for you…”

“No. I’m not hungry. I grabbed something in Santa Barbara a little while ago.”

The drive from LA had gone quicker than she’d expected with light Sunday traffic on the Ventura freeway. When she’d arrived in Santa Barbara she’d stopped for coffee and a muffin before continuing on the last hour of her trip, north and inland to Kilkenny on that crazy winding road through San Marcos Pass.

“Coffee, then,” Maeve said briskly, moving into her small kitchen attached to the living room. “Or maybe…you’d rather a wee bit of Jameson’s.”

Keara laughed and shook her head. “It’s too early for whiskey, Maeve.” She’d never called her great-aunt by the title “aunt”, had always called her only by her first name.

“It’s never too early for whiskey,” Maeve declared, but she began filling a coffee pot with water. “Later, we’ll be celebrating your arrival here with a little toast.”

With amusement, Keara recalled how her very Irish aunt liked her Irish whiskey. “All right,” she agreed. “Coffee’s fine for now.”

Maeve spooned coffee grounds into a filter. “I’m so glad you’re okay, after what happened to you. You’ll be telling me all about it.” She looked up at Keara, hands pausing.

Keara’s body tightened. “There’s not much to talk about.” She hitched a shoulder and pasted on a smile. “It wasn’t that big a deal. I’m fine.”

“All right. I just want you to know, you can talk about it anytime you want.”

“Sure. Okay.” She nodded mendaciously.

“So, what do you want to do while you’re here? It’s been a long time since you visited Kilkenny.”

“I know.” Keara’s smile softened. “You don’t have to plan things for me, I’ll just keep myself busy. Maybe I can help you in the store.”

“Ach, that’s not necessary.”

“I have to do something.”

“I thought you wanted a wee vacation.” Maeve’s eyes narrowed.

“I…uh…do. But…you know. I can’t just lie around all day.”

“Well, if you want to help, of course you can, muirnín .”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll find Kilkenny hasn’t changed much,” Maeve said. “Of course that’s because of all those laws. The town wants to stay as Irish as possible for the tourists.”

“It looks exactly the same. As if I flew across the ocean to Ireland rather than just driving up the coast. Is the store is still doing well?”

“The store is doing fine,” Maeve said, but she frowned as she leaned against the counter while the rich scent of coffee filled the air around them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Well. Business is still good. Not only do the tourists get a kick out of The Irish Sex Fairy Shop, the locals make good use of my products also.”