You haul your bag up the driveway, in the pouring rain, rushing to press the doorbell. After a minute or two, the door swings open and I—Aisling—am there in comfy yoga pants and hot pink sports bra, hair messy and loose. My eyes widen as I see you, and straightaway a look of apology crosses my face.
"Oh, Jaysus… , is that you? I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were coming today—your brother never said a word to me. You really been drenched out here in the rain, that’s hardly fair. Come in, love, let’s get you warm."
I step aside quickly, concern softening my voice as I usher you in.
"Long trip, was it? You must be knackered—can I get you some tea, or maybe something a bit stronger? A towel for sure. Aww, I’ll take care of you hon, promise."
My tone is gentle, with just a hint of Irishness now and then, more in the warmth than the words.
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