Luck of the Irish

I’ve never been lucky. Ever. All that talk of “luck of the Irish” did not apply to me. I blamed my family for my ancestors snubbing me and not giving me any of their supposed luck. I was of Irish descent but my family had done the best they could to become Americanized.

My grandfather got into a fight with his family and decided to move to America. My grandmother, being young and stupid, followed him across the ocean so they could get married. As soon as they set foot in New York, my grandfather decided that he wanted to erase anything having to do with Ireland, and of course, my grandmother stupidly did everything he said. They decided to convert from Catholicism to Baptist and drop the O from our surname making us Grady’s instead of O’Grady’s.

No matter how hard my grandfather tried to Americanize our family, I still looked Irish. I had the stereotypical red hair, skin so pale it burned if I even thought about going out into the sun, and freckles splashed across my face and arms. I was the Irish girl who wasn’t quite Irish.

I’d dreamed of going to Dublin for a while. I wanted to see where my family came from and I was also hoping that, by going there, my ancestors would find it in their hearts to give me some luck. I kept putting off going though because of school, work, and multiple other bogus excuses. In truth, I was scared. Going across the ocean where you didn’t know anyone was terrifying. I finally decided to go though after a bad break-up where I found my boyfriend in bed with one of his T.A.s. Without a second thought, I marched over to the International Office where I signed the papers and put down my deposit for a semester abroad.

My best friend, Sasha, gave me a list of things to do while I was over in Ireland. She swore if I did all of the Irish rituals on the list I’d win back the favor of my ancestors. I did all of them but I didn’t think my luck had changed…and it was all thanks to one specific item on the list and one Irish boy.

“So are you going to do it?”

I glanced up at Rose, my roommate here in Dublin, and shook my head. “There is no way I can go through with this.”

“Come on, Aid. The other things on the list don’t have a time limit on them. But this one, this one does.”

I stared down at the bottle of Guinness in my hand and mentally cursed Sasha for adding this task to the list. She knew it would be the one I’d have the most trouble accomplishing.

“It’s not that tough, Aiden.”

“Asking a boy to marry me isn’t tough?”

Rose laughed. “Ok, maybe it is. But ask him to marry you and then later you can explain that your friend told you that you have to propose to a guy on Leap Day since it’s an Irish tradition.”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” I sighed. “I’m going to need a lot more alcohol though.”

“Atta girl. Bartender! We need shots of the strongest thing you have!”

I lost count of how many shots I took before I finally felt confident enough to propose to a guy. Sasha had been adamant that it had to be someone I knew, and not just some random stranger. I decided that I would propose to Rory, a guy in one of my classes and the person I’d been admiring from afar all semester long. Besides saying “excuse me” and “what page did he say to turn to,” I hadn’t said anything to him so it was going to be interesting having “will you marry me” be the first actual words I said to him. And just my luck - or lack thereof - he was in the bar.

I took a deep breath and approached the tall, sandy haired boy that had caught my eye on the first day of class.

“Hi Rory. I was wondering…I mean…Will…uhh…Will you marry me?”

I have no clue what happened after that because the next thing I remember is waking up in a stranger’s bed the next morning. I sat up and made sure all my clothes were still on. I had to immediately lay back down though as a wave a nausea overcame me and my pounding head made it difficult to think.

“Oh my gosh,” I groaned.

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t move very quickly.”

I opened my eyes to see Rory walk into the room holding a glass of water and aspirin which I gladly accepted.

“Where am I and how did I get here?” I asked after I had swallowed the pills.

“You’re at my apartment. My roommate and I brought you here after you proposed to me and then proceeded to throw up on my shoes.”

“Please tell me you’re lying,” I groaned again.

“I am,” Rory said and I sighed in relief but it was short lived. “It was my roommate’s shoes you throw up on.”

“I am so, so sorry…and embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” Rory laughed. “It’s actually karma. Carney threw up on my shoes a few weeks back and still hasn’t paid me back.”

“I’m also sorry about uh…um…proposing.

Rory laughed again. “It was cute, actually. I just know you as the quiet girl from class so it took me by surprise.”

“It was a dare…by one of my friends back home,” I mumbled.

“Well it was a good one. Like I said, it was pretty much the only time I’ve heard you talk. Well except for when you got into an argument with the professor on the first day of class that your name is pronounced Ay-den instead of Ay-dean.”

“Yeah, he still hates me for the fact that I don’t pronounce my name the Irish way. Sorry that my parents Americanized my name.”

“Don’t worry about McDougal; he’s the most hated professor on all of campus,” Rory reassured me. “So do you need anything?”

“Coffee would be wonderful.”

Rory smiled. “Ok, do you want to head downstairs so I can make some?”

I nodded and followed Rory into his kitchen.

“Well if it isn’t the future Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” the boy sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, whom I assumed to be Carney, said.

“Carney, be nice,” Rory warned.

“I am being nice. I do want to let you guys know that I won’t be giving you a wedding gift though. I was going to but I need that money to buy new shoes,” he winked at me.

I blushed. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem. Actually I deserved it but I’m sure Rory over here has already told you that story. Anyway, what you did was ballsy; I’m impressed.”

“Umm…thanks?” I said before smiling gratefully at Rory as he handed me a mug of coffee. I took a drink of it and nearly spit it out. “What is this?”

“Coffee…or at least my attempt at coffee.”

“Well no offense but it’s terrible.”

“Irish people are better at making tea,” Rory said.

“I can see that. I would give anything for American coffee shop coffee right now.”

“Oh no,” Carney called out. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls.”

“One of what girls?”

“The girls we get over here that are like oh my gosh Starbucks. Oh my gosh Niall Horan,” Carney explained.

I vigorously shook my head. “No, I’m not. One Direction is my guilty pleasure but I’m not going to chase Niall all over the Irish countryside. And I’m not a big Starbucks fan. There’s a coffee shop on the Boston University Campus called Espresso to Go that I love.”

“So what made you decide to come over here? Besides wanting to propose to random blokes in bars,” Carney asked.

“That actually wasn’t my reason for coming over,” I laughed. “I wanted to come over here to learn about my ancestors and family history. The whole proposal comes from my friend’s list. She made a list of things I have to do while I’m over here.”

“Can I see the list?” Rory asked.

I nodded and pulled the list out of my pocket.

“Kiss the Blarney Stone. Explore a castle. Have bangers and mash. Have Shepard’s Pie. Drink whiskey for breakfast. Learn how to make Irish tea. Find the end of a rainbow.” Rory stopped reading about halfway through and looked up at me. “I’ll help you with these.”

“Thanks but you really don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to. This list sounds fun and half the time I forget about all the things my country offers.”

“Ok. Thank you,” I smiled.

And that was how Rory joined me on my adventure and he went from the boy I admired from afar in class to the boy I was full-fledged falling for. I never mentioned my feelings though and we also never mentioned why I chosen to propose to him on Leap Day.

We completed the list a few weeks before I was supposed to go back home but continued to hang out. When the time came for me to come home, Rory went with me to the airport but didn’t tell me he was madly in love with me like I was hoping. Instead, he hugged me and told me to keep in touch. As I sat on the plane waiting for takeoff I couldn’t help but think that even after completing all those tasks, I still didn’t have my ancestor’s luck.



“If you look at your phone one more time I am going to punch you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked Sasha, trying to act innocent.

“I’m talking about how I’m sitting here trying to enjoy coffee and hear about my best friend’s adventures in Ireland last semester before we start classes tomorrow and become overwhelmed with schoolwork but you're too busy checking your phone every five minutes.”

“I already told you all about my Ireland adventures.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear more about Rory,” Sasha smirked.

“There’s nothing else to say besides what I’ve already told you.”

“So that’s why you keep looking at your phone…you’re wishing for him to text you.”

“No…ok, maybe,” I sighed. “We were texting all summer long but all of a sudden it stopped. I haven’t heard from him in a week.”

“I’m sorry,” Sasha gave me a sympathetic smile.

“It’s fine. I mean, I’m not sure what I expected anyway.”

Sasha and I continued talking and preparing for the start of classes the next day when a voice interrupted us.

“You’re right. American coffee is so much better than Irish coffee. I think I still prefer Irish tea though.”

“Rory, what are you doing here?” I asked as I looked up at the Irish boy standing beside me table here in Boston.

He smiled and shrugged. “I heard that Boston is nice and they have a wonderful coffee shop so I decided to study abroad here for a semester. Plus there’s an American girl that I just can’t seem to get out of my head.”

Maybe my ancestors had given me the luck of the Irish after all.