Antonia stopped in her tracks, only a few feet from Mr. Creely’s front door. “What made you think of Baldwin?”

“Because you used to study him. He was part of your scholarship in grad school, right?”

Antonia shook her head. “Yes. Right, it’s just...” She looked at the handwritten note on Mr. Creely’s door: Gone to Letterfrack. Will return this evening. “Shit.”

“What’s up?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Antonia repeated. “The owner, Mr. Creely, isn’t here.”

“No need to panic,” Octavia said. “Just go back to your place and unplug the machine.”

“Hey stranger!” said a man’s voice from the road. She turned around to see Aiden sticking his head out of his car window. She gave him a reluctant wave. “Creely’s not there; he’s in Letterfrack.”

“That’s what the sign says,” Antonia called back. She didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm from her voice.

“Anything wrong?” Aiden asked.

“My washing machine is acting weird.”

“Give me a minute and I’ll help you with it,” he said, rolling up his window. He didn’t bother sticking around for her refusal. He was pushy as hell. Sure, he was helpful, but goddammit, he was pushing himself squarely into her vacation.

“Who was that?” Octavia asked.

“The man from next door,” she muttered.

“Oh, well there you are. Saved by a helpful gentleman,” her sister teased.

“Should I leave you on the line to hear him mansplain what I did wrong.”

“Absolutely not,” Octavia said. There was running water on her side. “I’m going to take a shower and head to work.”

“But it’s your day off.”

“I’ve got some insurance filing to do. But good luck with the wet clothes.”

Antonia rolled her eyes as she walked back to her cottage. She knew when she was being pushed off the phone. Like their mother, Octavia had no social graces when it came to ending conversations. “Yeah, thanks.” Aiden was waiting on her when she rounded the corner. He was at least wearing a shirt, which was something to be thankful for.

“It’s been running for a long time.”

“How long?”

She was sheepish as she approached him. “I don’t know, like an hour or so.”

“I don’t know if that’s too alarming.”

“Okay,” she admitted. “Close to two hours, I suppose.”

His poorly disguised smile widened. “Okay?”

Antonia crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Can you help me or not?”

He laughed in reply. “I’m sorry, but you’ve used a washing machine before, right?”

“Our machines are a hell of a lot more efficient in America.”

“You’re in Ireland now, darling,” Aiden said with a shrug. “We have a different idea of efficiency.”

She sucked her teeth and looked away. “Well I’m sure I can just unplug it myself.”

“I’m sure you could,” he said while wiping his tear-filled eyes. “Let’s see what we can do.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure I can manage a plug,” she said, turning to open her door. “Thanks for the laughs, Aiden.” She knew she was starting to sound childish, but this was the most dissatisfaction she had been able to show toward a man in a long time. She quite liked not being so congenial all the time. Although, Aiden didn’t look too turned off by her sharp tongue. If anything, it seemed to have the opposite effect on him.