But this summer before this transition into semi adulthood was just full of fun. I was working a 40 hour week in an office. I was off weekends and evenings. My very best friend in all the world was in the same boat. Only she was working in a grocery store and worked some nights and weekends. She was scheduled to start classes that fall at Texas Wesleyan. We met a lot of people and did a lot of things that summer. We were at the top of our game. We still lived at home, but had rules. But we seemed to find ways around those rules. We had learned that while still in high school.
My Aunt Margie and Uncle Clyde had neighbors that had lived across the street from them for years. The wife was a nurse and was originally from Ireland. They had moved away (not too far) and I can’t recall the details, but sadly the wife passed away and the husband remarried. They had children, so of course he kept in contact with her family back in Ireland. This particular summer her brother, I think his name was Quinn, came to visit. My sister was sit up on a blind date with him one Saturday night. Unfortunately she had to work and couldn’t get out of it. My mom and my aunt asked if I would go in her place. I think he had been here awhile and people wanted him to see what life was like for youngsters our age.
So I was game. Sounded like a little bit of fun. No big deal. So I picked him up in my ’77 Camero. (I really really really loved that car and still miss it.) We went to eat somewhere, I can’t recall. I think it was off University, back behind Kips. With his accent I had a hard time understanding him at first, but we became friendly very quickly. I think my sister was mad. I think she and my parents took him out to eat the following night. But my mom said he kept asking about me. That’s good for a young girl’s ego.
We went out several more times before he went back to Ireland. He was a musician and played in a band back home. We went to clubs, listened to bands, danced, and had fun. The last time we went out before he left to go home I took him parking. I had to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. After all I was picking him up, I was driving, he didn’t know where to go. I know the Fort Worth and surrounding area like the back of my hand.
I took him to a little park off Watercress near Lake Worth. Wildwood Park I think it was called. It was the first and only time I took a boy parking. I have to say I’m glad I did. No regrets. He probably went back to Ireland thinking American girls were really aggressive and bold. I don’t care. I had fun and I’m certain he still has fond memories of that summer.
I only told one person this story. She has probably forgotten by now. I pass that spot every day on my way home from work. Some days I have a lot on my mind and just ride on pass. But some days, I glance over there and smile. I’m smiling now.
I love reading your post. For a few minutes out of my busy day, I can think of something else. The problems of today are not important and I actually can laugh about something that you share with your readers. Thank you for a few minutes of pure peaceful bliss.
His name is Brendan Quinn, and he's on Facebook. I'm still in contact with his neice, the girl who lived across the street. She grew up to be a nurse, like her mother, and she recently moved from Fort Worth to Ireland to be near her mom's family. She maintained a really awesome blog leading up to the move, documenting her motives and her feelings about leaving her world behind.
His name completely escaped me. I remember he was a musician and even showed me the groves in his fingers from playing the guitar. Funny things you remember, he didn't like the food here.