Highland Magic

GILLIAN

Mrs. Brown seemed sad to see her go, fussed over Gillian at breakfast, and packed her several things in bags to make sure she didn’t waste away on her drive to Glasgow.

After finding out that Gillian was going to drive along the coast through Whithorn and Ballantrae, Mrs. Brown told her which beach to stop at to see the coast of Northern Ireland.

Handing her the bag of goodies and giving her a hug, Mrs. Brown told her to eat everything inside. “You’re too thin lass!”

Gillian thanked her, put the rest of her luggage in the boot, and set off down the road. It was a beautiful drive, seeing the water in the distance.

She rolled the window down some to let the fresh air in and feel the breeze on her face. She left her hair down and relaxed as she motored along.

She was thankful for the bottled water, and about an hour into her drive, she took a long drag, then opened the bag Mrs. Brown had labeled oatcakes, pulled out one, and took a bite.

Gillian let out a moan after tasting the concoction, which she thought was a cookie as far as she could describe.

It was heaven in her mouth, and she realized she was in big trouble if she ate these masterpieces for the rest of her trip! She was going to gain back the twenty pounds she’d lost since February and then some!

She better make sure she did a lot of walking to counteract these bad boys!

After following the directions Mrs. Brown had given her to a beach, she got out and marveled at the sight before her. It was a beautiful beach with wild grasses growing up to the sand and the waves splashing on land.

She pulled out another Ziploc bag, filled it with sand, and marked it.

She took some pictures of the area since it was clear for the moment; she could actually see Northern Ireland off in the distance just like Mrs. Brown promised.

She sat on a large rock and just watched the birds fly and let the wind whip her hair around her head. It was so centering to be there, and she took a selfie with the water in the background.

She looked at the picture and was surprised by the little sparkle she had in her eye. She looked almost content.

She texted the photo to her little group thread with a message that she was good, then sat a little bit longer, staring out to sea.

Feeling hungry, she got up, rummaged through the going-away bag she’d been given, and found a simple roast beef sandwich and an apple.

She would definitely be sending a thank you note to Mrs. Brown; she had made quite the impression on her. Smiling, she got back in her silver rental car and drove on up the coast, stopping for petrol once.

She’d googled a hotel, found a bit of a larger one by the coast, and reserved the room for the next two days.

She pulled in late in the afternoon and was shown her room. It was much bigger than the one with Mrs. Brown, and lacking some of the great charm she had at her place, but it was still a nice room.

She brought up her one bag with her toiletries in it and locked the other in her car in the garage.

She went down the road to a family-run seafood place and had some amazing fresh fish and chips and another ale.

She discovered another incredible dessert with fruit in it called a cranachan and all but licked the fancy dish it came in clean.

She sat back and watched the people go by: fishermen and dock workers, cargo ships, private boats, and all kinds of people. She saw some kilts, thick dungarees, regular jeans, and other clothes.

Yawning, she went back to the hotel and slept deeply.

Leaving fairly early the next morning, Gillian was off in her Nikes walking the streets, snapping photos and absorbing the bustling city of Glasgow.

She heard the proper Scottish tongue, the rough brogue, and the hard-to-understand mishmash of fast talk where she had no idea what they were saying.

Sometimes it made her giggle as she listened to the people around her.

It was cloudy and threatened to rain, so Gillian kept close to storefronts, just in case. She was by an outdoor market when the drizzle started.

She bought a beautiful dark-blue raincoat and slipped it over her hoodie, flipped up the hood, and walked on.

She had stopped for lunch and then continued her exploration. Several hours later, she stopped for tea at a little shop in a quiet part of town.

She heard her phone ring for the first time, saw Kurt’s face on her screen, and grinned.

“Hi, Kurt! See my picture of Ireland?”

“Hey, Gigi, I did. Do you have a minute? Are you in a place where you can talk?” he asked.

She could hear the emotion in his voice, and she felt her heart drop. “What’s wrong?”

Kurt sighed. “Gig…we lost the baby…”

Gillian teared up instantly and asked, “What happened? Is Carrie okay?”

“She is fine physically. She is in bed right now. But emotionally, we both are a little rung out…”

“Oh, Kurt! I’m so sorry! I will drive back and catch a flight home as soon as I can. It might take a little bit, but—”

“Don’t you dare!!”

Taken aback by his tone, she said, “What? What do you mean?”

“You need to be there! Carrie insisted that when I called you, I should tell you to stay there! We will be okay. We will lick our wounds, cry about what could have been, and heal. Which is what you need to do! Heal yourself!”

“But—”

“No! We want you to stay. Please… Stay and keep sending us pictures of your trip. We need to see them.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, wiping the tears from her face.

“We are sure. Carrie said to tell you that she will call in a few days when she has a better handle on things and can wrap her head around everything…”

“Okay… I love you guys. Please let Carrie know that I love her, okay?”

“I love you too… I will let her know… Bye, Gigi…”

“Bye, Kurt…” She hung up her phone and was dabbing her face when her waitress came by.

“Lass, ya all right?” she asked, looking concerned.

“Got some bad news from home… Can you give me directions to the nearest church?”

“Aye, lass, let me help,” she said and told Gillian how to get there.

Gillian paid the bill, accepted a hug from the waitress, flipped her hood back up, and followed the written directions she had.

It was close by, and she went into the old stone structure, needing to do something. She sat in the back after lighting a candle, not knowing what to do.

She was there for several minutes before an elderly priest came and sat by her.

“Ma bairn, ya look like ya are in need of some guidance. What canna do fa’ ya?”

She smiled at him weakly, teared up, and spilled the whole story from her birth to the present. The sweet white-haired man listened and let her continue, only interrupting to clarify pieces of information.

When she was done crying, she accepted the handkerchief he offered and wiped her eyes and nose.

“So, Gillian, what are ya asking of me? Of God?”

“I’m not sure… Am I making the right choice by staying? This is my best friend! She helped me so much over the last months, and I just want to make sure that I am doing for her what she did for me!”

“Friendship is not a tit for tat kind of arrangement. Yes, everyone gives into it, but ya don’t always get ou’ the same things at the same time. Everyone needs different things.

“Right now, she is saying that she loves ya, but she wants ya to stay here and continue to heal because that’s what you need.

“She needs to heal with her husband after the loss of a wee one, which is a vera intimate and personal thing between a couple.

“Does that mean she doesn’t love ya or need ya? Not at all. Does that make sense?” he asks wisely, rolling his r’s perfectly.

“Yes… I think so…” She pondered.

“What is the holdout I’m sensing? And be honest, lass!”

She thought for a minute. “I feel so guilty!”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to go home yet! I am really enjoying myself and haven’t felt this good in weeks, months!” she cried.

“Ahh, so ya have some guilt… Lemme ask ya this. If ya went back, what would ya be feelin?”

“Almost resentful… I had everything lined up. To go back would set all my plans back, and I don’t know if or when I could come back.

“I feel good here in Scotland. This is a magical place, and I want it to work its magic on me some more! I want to feel where my family started from!”

“But why is that wrong?”

“I…I don’t know…”

“I donna get the impression ya are a selfish lass.”

“Oh, I’m not. I would rather cut off my arm than hurt someone I love…but, Father, I need this!”

“Ya need to take care of yaself first, lass, before ya can help others. Tis not selfish to heal yaself,” he assured her. “God knows what ya have been through. He won’t think ya are selfish.”

She looked at him and could tell he was being sincere. “Are you sure?”

“Aye, without a doubt,” he said, patting her knee.

She sat back and let what he said sink in, and he let her sit in the pew and think. She knew he was right in her head; it was just her heart that was giving her problems.

She turned to the priest and smiled. “Thank you, Father. I know you are right… I just needed to hear it out loud.”

“I’m happy for ya, lass. Now go and explore the magic of my country,” he said, smiling broadly.

“This is a magical place. I will enjoy every day!”

They both stood up, and Gillian couldn’t help but hug him. She was getting ready to walk away when he handed her something from his pocket. He opened his hand, and she saw a small fairy pin lying there.

She looked at him questioningly. “A fairy?”

“Aye, this fairy will keep watch over ya so you don’t get into too much trouble on yer journey.”

“You believe in fairies?!”

“Aye, I think of them like little angels… Maybe they just cause a little bit more mischief!” he said with a wink and a small smirk.

She laughed, accepted the pin, and attached it to her raincoat. “Thank you, Father.”

“My pleasure, lass. Enjoy!”

Gillian went outside, found a taxi a few blocks away, and went back to the hotel, exhausted. She went to her room and ordered a large bowl of lamb stew and bread to be sent up.

She showered while she waited, then sat at the window and watched the rain start to come down a little harder. It was a soothing sight, and she ate her stew and watched the evening set in.

After eating, she sent a text to Carrie.

She snuggled down in bed and fell right asleep.