Where the Light Plays

by C. Fonseca

  “Okay. I’ll help you.”

  “I can manage.” Andi carefully lowered her injured leg to the rug and pulled the T-shirt down. She struggled to stand upright—still light-headed. She lurched forward, and Caitlin circled her waist protectively with her arm.

  “I’ll help you,” Caitlin repeated.

  She closed her eyes briefly and then allowed herself to lean into Caitlin, grateful for her strength and comforting warmth. When they reached the bathroom, Andi pushed Caitlin out of the room. She may need help to walk, but she could use the toilet by herself, thank you very much. She wanted a shower but settled on a one-handed sponge bath, which was adequate for now.

  After, Andi settled into a chair at the dining table.

  “Coffee?” Ellie, who’d arrived home from her shopping trip, asked.

  “Yes, please.” She relaxed as Ellie and Caitlin took over her kitchen. Ellie toasted bagels and made coffee, while Caitlin sautéed tomatoes, onions, and parsley for their scrambled eggs. They worked in tandem alongside each other, as if they had done it a hundred times before.

  “Okay, we’re nearly ready.” Ellie placed a plate, piled high with split-toasted bagels, on the table in front of Andi. “Do you want marmalade with your bagel?”

  She nodded. “I was too queasy to eat anything last night. But I’m starving now.”

  “Probably better if you put something solid in your stomach while you’re taking codeine,” Ellie said.

  Caitlin served the eggs onto three plates, carried them to the table, and sat down beside Andi. “Have you started on the arnica I brought you?” she asked.

  “I have, thanks.” Andi smiled and reached for the marmalade.

  “Marmalade?” Caitlin shook her head in disbelief. “You’re one of the few people I know who enjoys jam with their eggs.” She looked at Andi affectionately.

  “What?” she asked. “It’s an awesome combination, isn’t it, Ellie?”

  “It’s the best, Caitlin. You should give it a try. Especially with Ana’s orange marmalade.” Ellie passed the salt and pepper to Andi. “Caitlin’s right. Arnica will help. It stimulates the healing process by clearing and cleaning the tissue of unwanted debris. But remember to rest, ice, compress, and elevate,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “I need to head back into Melbourne after breakfast.” She winked at Caitlin. “Andi, you need a cold compress on the worst of your bruises; and keep your leg elevated. It will lessen the amount of bleeding under the skin. You’ll heal much faster.”

  “Thanks, Ellie. I’ll be okay.” She turned to Caitlin. “You must have a million things to do before you leave next week?”

  Caitlin shook her head. “I’ve already organised to be here. Andi. I’m staying.”

  By the way Caitlin stared at her, Andi had little chance, if any, of persuading her to leave.

  “At least till tomorrow. Longer if you need me,” Caitlin added emphatically.

  Ellie and Caitlin shared a subtle, knowing look. She was tired and sore—still a little fuzzy—but not enough to miss their nonverbal communication. It dawned on her that Ellie must have phoned Caitlin. How else did she know? And why was Ellie leaving already? She was supposed to stay tonight.

  “There you go. It’s all settled,” Ellie said, lifting a forkful of scrambled eggs to her mouth. “This is tasty, Caitlin. Andi, you can’t drive for a few days, so accept help when it is offered.”

  Andi nodded. “Okay, okay. Thank you, to both of you. I really appreciate all your help.” She looked from one to the other and rolled her eyes. “You two are quite the team.” She yawned. “I will take your advice, Ellie, and take it easy for the rest of the day.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Caitlin curled into Andi’s uninjured side. “Are you sure this is okay? I’m not hurting you, am I? It’s hard not to touch you in the wrong places.”

  “No, you’re not hurting me.” Andi’s voice was soft, her eyes heavy lidded. “I’m okay, Caitlin.”

  “Are you in much pain? I could move, give you more space so you can stretch out?”

  “Shhh…I’m fine.” Andi placed a finger over her lips. “This is precisely where I want to be.”

  Andi nuzzled into Caitlin’s shoulder. “Your hair smells of vanilla and cinnamon. I adore these lovely wavy strands.” She twisted a lock of dark hair between her fingers. “It’s soft and feminine, but kind of messy and tousled. It gives you a wild, bad-girl look.”

  Caitlin smiled. “Bad girl?” She lifted herself onto one elbow and turned to look into Andi’s coffee-coloured eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Yeah, bad girl.” Andi giggled. “When you look at me like that, your eyes sparkle—a deeper blue than any ocean pool. I’ve missed you too.”

  They lay still with the sounds of morning drifting through the open window. The rustle of gum leaves in the coastal breeze, the warbling of magpies, and distant waves breaking on the rocks, all mingled with Koda’s soft snoring at the end of the bed.

  “Andi, you can’t run away this time. We have things to discuss, don’t you think?” Caitlin turned to brush her lips along Andi’s collarbone and then gently rested her chin between Andi’s sweetly curved breasts.

  “I know. We do. Now?”

  She moved her hand to Andi’s forehead. When she felt Andi tense, she caressed her furrowed brow. “Is that okay?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I want to understand what’s going on in here.” Caitlin tapped the side of Andi’s head. “We need to talk about what’s happened and what you think is happening. You really scared me. You can talk to me if you’re frightened, embarrassed, or angry.” Although Caitlin had a sense of what was going on, she wanted Andi to put it into her own words.

  “I want that too.”

  When they eventually got out of bed, Caitlin helped Andi rig a waterproof cover for her thigh, and she was able to take a shower.

  She smiled as Andi appeared, looking refreshed in loose cargo shorts and ribbed tank.

  “Feel better?”

  “Much better, thanks.”

  “You look it,” Caitlin said. She poured peppermint tea and handed a cup to Andi, who sat huddled in one corner of the sofa with her leg propped up on a cushion.

  Caitlin sank into a chair across from Andi, keeping some distance between them. Two artworks she’d not seen before leaned against the wall.

  “Your new paintings are incredible. I love the rawness of the towering cliffs in the smaller painting. It is such a powerful image. Like stone monoliths soaring against the blue horizon.”

  “Thank you. One of my favourite subjects.”

  Andi had captured the red and yellow ochre clay pigments in harsh horizontal strokes, in stark contrast to the smooth golden sand below and the bright blue, cloudless sky above.

  Caitlin placed her cup down on the table in front of her. “Don’t you think you’ve been a bit reckless lately? You don’t come across as someone who would take unnecessary risks.”

  Andi rested her head against the back of the sofa. Slowly, she opened her brown eyes and glanced at Caitlin quickly before staring up at the ceiling. “I guess. With the exhibition approaching, I’ve been feeling pressured.” Suddenly, she leaned forward, startling Caitlin. Her eyes were wide, and she pulled at her hair. “I just made a bad decision. The sea was rougher than I expected. I hate that I haven’t seen you for nearly three weeks—even if it was my call. I hate that you’re going away in just a few days. What if you don’t want to come back?”

  Caitlin remained calm despite Andi’s outburst. “Andi, I’m only going for two weeks. I won’t miss the exhibition opening. We can keep in touch regularly on FaceTime or Skype. Or text?” Caitlin struggled to dispel Andi’s fears, because the future was unclear for her as well. “I feel horrible about not being here to help you with the exhibition. You have so much to do. I wish I could be here. It’s really bad timing.”

  Andi didn’t reply, so Caitlin attempted to draw her out. “Tell me about your paintings. What
did you feel when you did this one?” She gestured towards the smaller canvas.

  Andi rubbed her thigh. “I wanted to present the cliff rising out of the smooth sand and the even, flat plain of the intense blue sky. It’s terror and beauty all at once. Simultaneously.” She hesitated. “Sometimes, I feel like that, like something is impossible, and my doubts multiply.”

  “Is that how you feel about us?”

  Andi ran her hands through her hair and fidgeted restlessly. “Yes.”

  “Please, don’t be unsure of how I feel about you.”

  Andi half smiled and said, “I know you’ve been working towards this promotion for a long time. It’s important to you.” She glanced out the window, where a strong wind was lashing tree branches against the deck. “So, what else will you be doing in Cork? I don’t suppose you’ll be surfing?”

  Caitlin shrugged halfheartedly at Andi’s side-step. “Funny you should mention that. I am hoping to visit the other Kinsale. There’s a famous surf beach at Garretstown very close to where Isabella grew up. My parents have a cottage nearby, so I may just do that.”

  “But you’ve only had one lesson!” exclaimed Andi, she rolled her eyes. “And it will be winter.”

  “Okay, then, maybe not.” She winked. “You’d love Kinsale. It’s an old fishing port with a beautiful rugged coastline. It has winding little streets with cafés and restaurants. I’d like to take you there someday.” Caitlin moved to the sofa and lifted Andi’s injured leg onto her lap. She thought carefully about what she wanted to say next and took a deep breath. “Do you ever think of going to Europe again? Or living away from here, even for a short time? Could you see yourself travelling?” With me? She imagined them exploring galleries and museums together in London and Italy. Andi could have her own studio and paint.

  Andi yawned and reached for Caitlin—her beautiful hands framed Caitlin’s face. She kissed her slowly, gently.

  “You’re tired,” Caitlin whispered.

  Andi nodded. “Caitlin?” she asked, her breath warm and sweet against Caitlin’s lips.

  “Hmm?”

  “I would. I could travel…anywhere, with you.”

  Caitlin sighed and gazed into Andi’s drowsy eyes. She drew her close, and they sat quietly until Andi’s breathing had slowed. She’d fallen sleep. Caitlin caressed the darkening bruise on Andi’s cheek and kissed her hair. She took her hand and entwined their fingers together.

  Her hands are sun-kissed and strong

  Capable, creative—artist’s hands

  Veins subtly visible; a roadmap to her heart

  I look down at our connection

  I am the silent cartographer

  Longing to unravel the mysteries concealed in her hands.

  CHAPTER 33

  The clouds cleared and gave way to open spaces and rolling hills of green grasses. Caitlin leaned forward and stared out at the glorious patchwork of colour, the wide harbour and meandering river—the town’s familiar landscape that welcomed her home. Minutes later the Airbus tyres squealed at touchdown, and she momentarily tensed then sighed in relief as the plane slowed on the runway. The aircraft rolled towards the terminal, and the captain began his welcome speech. It wouldn’t be long now before they finally disembarked.

  “Welcome home, Doctor Quinn,” the officer said as he handed Caitlin her passport.

  She smiled tiredly and passed through immigration control—the last official step of her long journey. After the insufferably long flight from Singapore to London, Caitlin was grateful for the four-hour stopover at Heathrow. She’d taken advantage of the business-class lounge to shower and change into fresh clothes.

  Suitcase and bags in tow, she made her way into the Cork Airport Arrivals Hall and scanned the afternoon crowd for her mother.

  “Caitlin, Caitlin.” Orla Quinn wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her tight. Finally, she let go to hold her at arm’s length. “Let me get a good look at you, darling.” She carefully scrutinised her daughter. “Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes. I don’t know how you do it, but you manage to look marvellous even after travelling for thirty hours.”

  “Thanks, Ma. It’s wonderful to see you. You look sensational yourself.” Caitlin embraced her mother and kissed her cheek. “I love your hair shorter. It suits you.”

  Orla patted her new hairstyle and smiled at Caitlin’s compliment.

  “It’s not too wet or too cold, just some good old-fashioned Cork drizzle. But after the Australian weather, you will feel it.”

  Caitlin shrugged into the loose-fitting knitted coat her mother had brought for her. “Thank you for taking time off to collect me. Really, Ma, I could have grabbed a taxi.”

  “As if. I haven’t seen you for nearly seven months. There was not a chance. If your father wasn’t entertaining some foreign guests this afternoon, he would be here himself.” Orla lifted the smaller bag, and they headed for the exit, towards the short-term car park. “I would’ve had to bring the Rover if he’d come along.” She pointed to the shiny, sage-green, vintage Jaguar XK. “I thought you’d like to be picked up in your own car.”

  Caitlin fastened the coat buttons and pulled the collar up around her neck. The air was damp and cold, but at least a little sun peeped through the clouds. She stroked the bonnet of her car. “I’m happy to see you, Lois. Thanks, Ma,” she said and crammed her luggage into the small rear boot.

  “Aren’t you tired? Are you okay to drive?”

  Caitlin slid into the driver’s seat. “I’m fine. I’ve missed driving her.” She sat behind the wheel and adjusted the seat. “One thing hasn’t changed—you haven’t got any taller.”

  “Cheeky devil, you haven’t changed.” Orla laughed and slid into the low passenger seat. Caitlin grinned, turned the key, and the classic car purred as a Jaguar should.

  “Welcome home, darling.” Orla held onto the wooden dashboard as the car zoomed forward.

  * * *

  Caitlin took the short walk from her parents’ home along the river. No matter how many times she approached the Glucksman Gallery over the footbridge, she had a sense of entering a special place. The upper floors of the timber-clad building seemed to float above the river that ran beside it. Its permanent collection housed 350 works of contemporary Irish art. Wouldn’t it be grand to show Andi around this gallery?

  Caitlin followed the pathway to the lower grounds, and as she entered the Fresco Bistro, a familiar voice called, “There you are.” Kiera enveloped Caitlin in a crushing hug and, in her excitement, lifted her off the ground. “You’re all healthy and glowing from the Aussie sunshine.”

  “Kiera, I’m glad to see you. It’s nice that you’ve missed me so damn much.” Caitlin chuckled at her friend’s exuberance. “But please put me down.” She gripped Kiera’s forearm. “You look fighting fit. Still swimming twenty laps a day?”

  Kiera grinned and her grey eyes sparkled. “Come hail, rain, or shine—every day.”

  She steered Caitlin around a rowdy, unfamiliar group standing at the bar.

  “Come on, girl, we have a table at the back. Your old friends will be surprised as hell and very happy to fix their eyes on you.” Kiera sidestepped to avoid an inebriated colleague. “I’m damned happy to see you.” She squeezed Caitlin’s shoulder. “You chose to arrive back home just in time.”

  The venue was hosting the university alumni end-of-year party, and it hummed with faculty and staff already getting into the holiday spirit.

  They moved through the bistro. Its sliding doors opened towards the west, overlooking parkland between the river and the limestone escarpment. The dining terrace provided views of the picturesque, gothic college buildings. Caitlin sighed as she glimpsed the pink, evening light reflected on the River Lee.

  At the table, she was greeted with peals of laughter from her familiar group. Oddly, she felt awkward standing there, waiting to join her friends. It was absurd to feel unsure of her place among this circle of colleagues and friends. After all, they were very m
uch a part of her social life; at least the life she’d led before Australia, prior to Andi.

  She’d spent last night with her parents, catching up on family news. Once she’d climbed into the four-poster bed in her childhood room and snuggled into the cotton sheets and mohair throw, Caitlin sent Andi a text to let her know she’d arrived safely. When the return text appeared, Caitlin stared at the screen that lit up with Andi’s smiling image.

  She’d fallen asleep, lulled by the memories of Andi in her arms, the smell of her skin, and the taste of her on her lips.

  “Well, look who’s here. Caitlin Quinn.”

  The sound of her name brought her back to the present. “Sally, lovely to see you.” Caitlin hugged her friend. “Huge congratulations to you and Liam. What’s the name of your little girl?”

  “That would be Maeve Kathy O’Reilly, and she’s almost two months old.” Sally put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Let me tell you, Caitlin, at four in the morning, her impersonation of Sinéad O’Connor is enough to drive us barmy.”

  The old crowd of friends welcomed Caitlin in a blur of hugs, kisses, and compliments. In danger of being completely overwhelmed by the attention, she was relieved ten minutes later to take a seat beside Kiera.

  “Are you okay? You look a bit stunned, like a deer in headlights. I guess it is a bit much, seeing everyone all at once.” Kiera handed her a Murphy’s. “Here, get your mouth around this, Caitlin.”

  Caitlin rolled her eyes. “Thanks, I’ve missed it. We do get it in Melbourne, but not on draft. It’s not the same in a tin.” She lifted her glass to Kiera and then took a large gulp. “Yes, old friend, I am fine. Really. Don’t give me too many of these though, or you’ll be carrying me home.” Caitlin licked the creamy-malt-caramel foam from her top lip.

  Good intentions aside, Caitlin had a couple before she headed to the bar, requested a large glass of water, and drained it empty.

  “This is a surprise.”

  Startled by a smooth voice, Caitlin turned around. “Rachel,” she said. “This is a surprise.”