She'd been so busy with work that she'd never been able to justify a vacation, so she'd decided on a working vacation. Between seminars, she'd seen a few musicals in the West End, searched antique stalls at the Portobello market for the old pastry molds she collected, and visited all the popular tourist sights.

But impulse drew her away from the bustle of the city, compelled her to hop a train that wound across England and Wales to the Irish Channel and to board a ferry that crossed choppy water to a town with the quaint name of Rosslare. Yesterday, from the deck of the ferry, she'd caught her first glimpse of Ireland and, at that moment, felt something deep inside her soul shift, as if she had suddenly discovered a facet of herself that had been hidden until this moment.

She was no longer just a New Yorker, or an American. This land was in her blood, part of her heritage, and she could feel it with every beat of her heart. Keely smiled to herself as she pulled the car door open. Though she'd been forced to drive in the wrong side of the car and on the wrong side of the road, she was getting better at navigating the country roads and narrow streets of the villages that she passed through. She nearly felt at home here.

A gentle rain began to fall and Keely ran to the car. She carefully turned around and started back down the lane, anxious to arrive in the little village she'd marked on the map. Ballykirk was only a few miles down the road, but as she came closer, her nerves got the better of her. She hadn't told her mother she'd decided to go to Ireland, or come to County Cork. She knew the idea would be strongly discouraged. But her mother had never given her a decent reason for her feelings and this was one impulse that couldn't be ignored. Besides, it had been a long time since she'd done anything to please her mother. She didn't dress properly, she didn't behave properly. And now, she didn't travel properly either.

"The past is in the past and it's best if it stays there," Fiona would have said.