“Yes, that is very important in a good match. But then there’s the yang yin. Are ye familiar with the yang yin?”

I laugh but then catch myself, turning it into a cough. What on earth is this guy talking about? How does a centenarian living in the middle-of-nowhere Ireland know about Chinese culture?

Erin blinks a few times, processing. “Yes, I know what yin and yang is. I’m not sure what that has to do with my boyfriend.”

“I believe, for ye to be truly happy, ye must find the complimentary opposite to yerself. The yang to your yin. Ye’re a lively, driven, intelligent girl. The perfect man for you will be anchored, driven too, but connected to his roots. He will help ye feel secure as ye soar on the wind he places beneath yer wings.”

“Uhhhh, okaaay.” She turns to me and gives me her crazy googly eyes. Normally it’s a sign that I need to get her away from wherever she is before she starts getting a little too mouthy, but I’m not exactly sure that’s the best idea right now. This guy knows Erin almost as well as I know her, apparently. He’s right when he says she needs an anchor. She can be a little … untethered sometimes. I used to just write it off as part of who she is, but now I’m wondering where it came from. Maybe it’s from the fact that she left her homeland and seems so determined to keep it in her past. And now that I’ve been here, I realize keeping Ireland dead and buried would be an impossibility. It’s already sneaking into my blood and I’ve only been here a couple days.

“Would ye like me to have a look?” he asks.

“A look? At what?” Erin seems worried, like maybe he’s asking her to strip for an examination. Even I’m a little confused until he rubs his hand across the worn leather of his log book.

“To see if there’s someone who might suit?” he explains.

Erin stands in a hurry. “No, no thanks. I’m … busy. I’m not on the market. I’m … taken.” She turns around abruptly, knocking her chair to the side before leaving me in a cloud of her dust. She disappears into the ladies’ bathroom before I get my voice back.

“Uhhh, that was … surprising.”

“I’ve upset her,” Mr. O’Henry says frowning.

I wave his concern off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. She’s just nervous about her family and stuff.” I don’t want to tell him it’s the inheritance issue because of client confidentiality reasons. This town is microscopically small where gossip is concerned, and I know Erin wants all this kept on the down low. It’s the only way she’ll get a fair price for the other half of her bar.

“And what about you, Lass? Are you looking for a match?”

“Me?” I laugh, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. Now I’m getting an inkling about what Erin went through, and her disappearance is making way more sense. “No, that’s okay. I’ve got it handled.”

“Do ye now?” He tilts his head to the side and smiles a tiny smile.

“Well, kind of.” The way he’s looking at me makes me want to confess all my failures in the love department, but I resist. “I’m pretty busy with my career now, so there’s really no time for love and me. But maybe in the future.”

“You’ve never met anyone you felt close to, without even knowing him that well?”

I open my mouth to answer, but stop before the sound actually makes it out because I notice Mr. O’Henry has flicked a glance over my shoulder.

I turn slowly to see what pulled his attention from me, and I see Donal standing in the background with a pint in his hand. He’s looking up at the ceiling.

I blink a few times and shake my head, bringing my attention back to Mr. O. “I don’t think so.” It’s a total lie, but he’ll never know. I suddenly feel the very strong need to pee, so I stand. “I need to check on Erin. Thanks so much for your time and for the referral to the attorney. We’re going to see him tomorrow.”

“Didn’t work out for ye today, then?” he asks, a smile in his voice.

I feel myself blushing. “No, it’s Sunday.”

“’Tis.”

“Irish lawyers don’t work on Sundays, apparently.”

“No, not generally.”

I feel like a complete moron standing here talking like a third-grader. I’ve completely lost my cool and I don’t know why. I’m going to blame it on Donal pretending like he doesn’t know me when he most definitely does know me. Or does he? The me he met today is not the normal me, so maybe he doesn’t know me at all. Or he’s the only one who knows me. Argh, I’m too confused to figure it out, so I decide to abandon ship.

I hold out my hand. “Goodbye, Mr. O’Henry. It was nice seeing you again.”

“And you, Ridlee, dear,” he says, shaking my hand. His skin is warm and his grip surprisingly firm. “Should ye feel the need to discuss yer match with me, I’m available to ye at yer convenience.”

“My match?”

He puts his hand on the book in front of him. “Yes. Yer match. The man who makes yer heart race and yer smile shine.”

I point at him and wink. “Yin yang.”

He smiles and nods. “Yin yang. Ye’ve got it.”

I walk as fast as I can away from him without looking like I’m running, headed straight for the bathroom.

Erin’s on her way out and the door hits us both as I try to force her back.

“Ridlee, what the hell …?”

“Get in, get in, I need to talk to you.” I’m flustered and panicked, suddenly desperately in need of shelter from all the eyes in the bar, especially one particular set of them.

She lets me in and we close the door behind me. There’s one sink and mirror to my right and a single walled-off toilet stall next to it. The towel holder is to my left.

“What’s going on?” she whispers, glancing worriedly at the door. “Is he following you?”

“He? Who?”

“The matchmaker.” She looks at the door again, like Gollum himself is out there waiting for her.

“No, don’t be ridiculous.”

She straightens up. “Well, who is it then?”

“It’s no one.”

She reaches around to grab the door and I stop her.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She stands up straighter and crosses her arms over her chest. “What’s the deal? Why are you afraid to go out there? Who are you hiding from?”

I cross my arms too and shrug. “No reason. Why are you afraid to go out there?”

We stare at each other for a long time. Her chin twitches and then finally she breaks, her face crumbling. “I don’t want to go out there because he’s talking to me about Micheál and he’s not … he’s not …” She can’t finish. The tears come too fast and furious.

I grab her into a hug and squeeze her tight. “Shhhh, I know, I know…”

“What do you know?” she whines over my shoulder.

“I know that you thought there was something there between you and it all felt right and perfect even when it shouldn’t have and then when you were ready to just accept it, it blew up in your face and he acted like it didn’t even happen that way.”

She stops sniffling and pulls away. “Wait a minute … what?”

I tap my foot and look up at the ceiling, willing the tears to stay inside their ducts. “I’m just saying…”

“Are we talking about Micheál here or Donal?”

I turn around and grab the door handle, but Erin stops me by putting her foot against the bottom of the door.

“Not so fast, there, girl.” Her tears are gone, like completely dried up, and now she’s back to being her confident self. “You’re upset.” She pulls on my arm to turn me around. Her tone changes. “You’re really upset, aren’t you?” She sounds mystified now.

“No, I’m not the one upset, that’s you.” I can’t meet her eyes. “Move your foot, I need to go drink a pint.”

“No way, not until you come clean.”

I turn around more fully, planning to shame her into letting me out. “There’s nothing to come clean about, okay? Jesus, give it a rest.”

She folds her arms and lifts a brow at me, saying nothing.

I try to stay mad, but I can’t. My face starts trembling in all kinds of weird places as I try to hold in my hurt.