Wild Irish Soul

by O'Malley, Tricia

  "Hi, Morgan," Aislinn said softly.

  "Aislinn, oh my, did you do all this? Since I left on Sunday?" Morgan asked, turning to stare at the back half of the gallery.

  Canvases covered the walls. They leaned against the floor, were hung on any available hook, and more were lined up with space separating them so they could dry. The sea was found there. Angry, tempestuous waves raged across canvases, fighting their way out from the storm of the sea, making a person want to reach out and touch the water. Just for a second…to see if it was real.

  "These are…wow, just wow. Amazing, so angry, so virulent. God, Ash, I'm just in awe of your talent," Morgan breathed as she walked between them all.

  "Thank you," Aislinn said softly.

  "They are for the show?"

  "Yes, I needed to get some of the seascapes done."

  "Are you painting all the moods of the ocean?" Morgan asked, crossing her hands across her chest and biting her lip as she took in Aislinn's disheveled appearance.

  "I suppose that you could say that," Aislinn said.

  "Um, when did you eat last?"

  Aislinn raised bloodshot eyes to Morgan and tried to think about when she had last eaten.

  "I can't remember…" She squinted her eyebrows in confusion.

  "Okay, not good. I'm going out for food. Stay," Morgan ordered and disappeared from the back door. Aislinn didn't have the heart to tell her that she probably wouldn't be able to stomach the food that the girl brought for her. She rose and went to stand in front of her work.

  She'd been in a fury after Baird had left her. She'd found that she couldn't finish the drawing of the swan that she had started. It was a happy memory and it seemed wrong to draw it in anger. Instead, angry waves had crashed from her fingers and she'd been all but possessed as she had worked through the night, and into the next day.

  Morgan was right, she thought. Her paintings were magnificent. Edgier than any she had done before. She nibbled at her thumbnail as she circled her entire shop, drawing her eyes over paintings of tranquil waters to sunshiny days to turbulent storms. Morgan was right about this as well, Aislinn thought. She was painting all the moods of the sea.

  Like a messy, arrogant, and fiercely proud woman, the sea showcased her moods in any way that she could. Aislinn was proud to honor the sea and to showcase the chameleon nature of her waters. Aislinn would never tire of watching the water that touched the shores of her small village or filled the enchanted cove.

  Aislinn was fiercely proud of her work, of her village, and her lineage. She didn't think she'd realized that until Baird had insulted all of it. And had hurt her to the core.

  Good riddance, she thought and took a deep breath as Morgan breezed back in the door with a bag from the café.

  "More coffee, muffins, and some hardboiled eggs. I figured you may need some protein," Morgan said, eager to please.

  "Thanks, Morgan," Aislinn said and moved to sit at her small table in the kitchenette. Morgan was silent as she unpacked the food but Aislinn could read her nervousness. Too tired to care about making Morgan feel better, she tore off a piece of a cranberry muffin and chewed mechanically.

  "Um, so, is everything okay with you and Baird?" Morgan asked carefully.

  Aislinn just raised an eyebrow at her and remained silent.

  "I'm not trying to pry or anything. But, um, it's hard not to read you…you know, with my powers and all," Morgan said and blushed before quickly shoving a piece of muffin in her mouth to stem the flow of words.

  "Lord save me from women with special abilities in my life," Aislinn said crankily and raised her eyebrows to the ceiling. She was rewarded with a peal of laughter from Morgan. Aislinn couldn't help but smile back since Morgan laughed so rarely.

  "Why do you ask, Morgan?"

  "It's just that, well, you can see it here," Morgan said and swept her hand to the works that lined the wall.

  "I suppose you can tell that I've been a bit moody," Aislinn concurred.

  Morgan barked out another laugh and Aislinn smiled again.

  "A little? This is fury! Beautiful, stunning, fury," Morgan said.

  Aislinn turned to study her work. She supposed that it was a tad bit angry.

  "We'll call this my rage period," Aislinn said with a small smile as she blew on her coffee.

  "I just…he didn't look too good, either," Morgan said hesitantly and Aislinn's head snapped up as she scanned Morgan's face.

  "You saw him?"

  "Um, yes?" Morgan's voice went up in a "is that a bad thing if I did?" note.

  "Like at the market?"

  "No, he stopped by the docks and invited me for a free session," Morgan said softly and cast her eyes down at the table. Aislinn's mouth dropped open and for some reason she became even angrier. Damn that man for going and doing something sweet right in the middle of her hating him.

  "I'm sorry, please don't be mad," Morgan said, correctly interpreting Aislinn's reaction.

  "I'm not mad at you at all," Aislinn said, waving away Morgan's concerns easily.

  "It was nice," Morgan said nervously and Aislinn pulled her mind away from herself for a moment.

  "You talked to him then? How do you feel about it?"

  Morgan tore apart her muffin on her plate as she thought about her response.

  "I feel like it would be good for me to go a few more times. I'm…I'm not quite comfortable with how much I can tell him, yet. Not sure if I trust him with all of it," Morgan said and made a circle motion with her finger to point at her mind. Aislinn knew that she was referencing her gift.

  "I know what I'd like you to do, but that would be out of spite," Aislinn murmured.

  "What's that?"

  "I'd love for you to make something fly across the room. To show him straight out your power so he doesn't believe the whole town is lying to him," Aislinn grumbled. Morgan gaped at her.

  "You told him about your power?"

  "Aye, I'm honest about it. At least to those that I feel comfortable with."

  "And he thinks you're lying?" Morgan raised her eyebrows.

  "He does. In fact, he seems to think the whole town is in on some big lie to attract tourists." Aislinn shoved away from the table to pace again. Just thinking about it made her start to get angry all over again.

  "Well…that's the dumbest thing that I've ever heard," Morgan decided. "Which is weird…'cause the doc seems like a pretty smart guy."

  "Oh, he is. Smart, sensitive, and…" Aislinn trailed off as she realized that she was about to gush over him. Shaking it off, she turned to face Morgan.

  "I'll stop going to him. That jerk," Morgan decided.

  "No. Please, go. If you can get free counseling, then take it," Aislinn urged. "Don't let my personal relationship step in the way of you learning to heal some of your wounds, okay?"

  "If you're sure."

  "Yes, please. It's really important to learn to let go of old baggage. This will be good for you. And, you're going to want to feel better about dating Patrick."

  Morgan hunched over and crossed her arms, tearing apart her already mangled muffin.

  "He left flowers for me at my van," Morgan whispered. Crumbs went flying as she picked apart the muffin.

  "Morgan. Stop," Aislinn said and the girl jumped and looked down at her destroyed muffin.

  "Oh, jeez. Sorry," Morgan said.

  "It's fine. They're your muffins to destroy. But, I meant stop closing in on yourself when a cute boy likes you. I can tell you that Patrick is a standup guy, okay?"

  "He is?" Hope flitted across Morgan's face.

  "He is. But, make him work for it," Aislinn cautioned.

  Morgan nodded furiously and Aislinn sighed at the eagerness in her face. Did she look like that when she thought about Baird? Ugh, Aislinn thought and moved to put her dish in the sink.

  "So, he looked rough?" Aislinn could kick herself for asking.

  "Yes, he had dark circles under his eyes. He was thinking about you. As soon as he saw me, hi
s thoughts went to you. I don't know, Ash. He's pretty torn up. I think he really cares about you," Morgan said hesitantly.

  Aislinn shrugged her shoulders.

  "Well, he doesn't show it very well now, does he?"

  Morgan opened her mouth but Aislinn held up her hand to silence her.

  "Come, help me catalog these paintings. I need to take pictures of them and note their dimensions to send to the gallery in Dublin," Aislinn said and Morgan hopped up, all business.

  "Can I come to your show? Will you need help?" Morgan asked breathlessly.

  Aislinn stopped. She hadn't even thought about inviting anyone yet or how she would get all the work there.

  "I have a van," Morgan offered, reading her mind.

  "Yes, I'd love for you to come to the show with me and be my assistant. I'll pay you, of course," Aislinn said automatically.

  Morgan squealed and clapped her hands, looking like a dark-haired fairy as she flitted around the room chattering about the show. Aislinn followed her movements and silently counted all her paintings as Morgan talked. She'd need at least a dozen more before next week.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  Her show was in just over a week.

  Forcing herself to breathe, she marched around the room and began to make mental notes of all the different moods of a woman and how the sea resembled them. As the idea took shape in her mind, she began to see her other paintings. She had anger, gentleness, sadness, and happiness. What was she missing?

  Love, she thought bitterly and turned away from her work.

  "Morgan, I’m going up for a quick nap. I need to work through pretty much the next two weeks. How much time can you be here?"

  "I'll ask Flynn if I can have the next two weeks off."

  "Thank you," Aislinn said wearily and climbed the stairs to her apartment. She stepped into her room and dropped face first onto her bed. Her mind whirling with images of the sea in all its moods, she fell off the edge into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Baird stood at his window and watched as Morgan approached his office. It had been several days since their first appointment and he was glad that she had decided to come back to talk with him again. He sensed that there was a lot of underlying anger and insecurity that she needed to deal with. Baird didn’t even care that she couldn't pay. In some ways, he needed to help her. For Aislinn.

  Maybe for himself, Baird thought with a shrug. If treating Morgan for free was some way to atone for hurting Aislinn then he had a pretty messed up way of apologizing, the psychiatrist inside of him lectured.

  Yeah, yeah, Baird thought. I know what I'm doing.

  He needed to go see Aislinn. He'd found himself unconsciously thinking about her through the week, wanting to ring her when something funny crossed his mind or when he saw something that he knew she would want to paint or photograph. It was like she had opened his eyes to the world and Baird found himself stopping in his everyday routine and looking around him, seeing the beauty in the everyday.

  Was the village really in on some big hoax? The more he met and interacted with the locals, the harder he found it to believe.

  And, yet, he still needed answers.

  A part of him hated that he did. Why couldn't he just let it go and accept what was? He could've kicked himself the other night for saying the things he did. It was like they had just rolled off his tongue of their own accord.

  Baird trotted down the stairs to his office at the knock on his door.

  "Hi, Morgan." Baird held the door open for the girl and was relieved to see her smile up at him.

  "Hi, Dr. Delaney," Morgan said shyly.

  "You can call me Baird," he said with a smile. They'd pretty much moved past formalities when he'd interrupted that little scene between her and Patrick last week. He gestured for her to sit on his couch and took a club-style chair across from her. Sensing that she wasn't a fan of protocol, Baird kept his notebook down and instead moved to a small refrigerator.

  "Water?"

  "Sure, thanks," she said.

  Morgan crossed her legs and pulled a pillow onto her lap. A wall.

  Protection, Baird thought.

  "How have things been since our first session?" Baird began.

  Morgan shrugged her shoulder.

  "Good, I guess. I've been busy."

  "Work?"

  "Yes, helping Aislinn get ready for her show. She's painting like she's possessed," Morgan said, her eyes trained on his face.

  "I'm sure. She's very talented," Baird said.

  "In more ways than one," Morgan said, meaning behind her voice.

  Baird met her eyes but didn't say anything. It would violate Aislinn's confidentiality to discuss her gift with Morgan, irrespective of whether the girl knew about it.

  "How do you like working for her?" Baird asked instead.

  "I love it. I find her to be so inspiring. She's the first person, aside from Flynn, that's really given me a chance. I'm learning so much," Morgan gushed.

  "You didn't have a lot of chances…or choices…growing up, did you?"

  Morgan's shoulders instantly slumped.

  "No, not many choices. Until I made the one to leave."

  "Tell me about why you ran away, if you can," Baird asked.

  Morgan watched Baird for a moment before reaching for her water bottle. Not saying a word, she set it back down on the table. She looked at the water bottle and back at Baird as he waited patiently for her to begin her story.

  "I shouldn't say that I didn't have choices. I had power. Which gives me certain options that others don't have," Morgan said softly.

  Baird raised an eyebrow at her but held himself back from a laugh. Another one with power? Right, he thought sarcastically to himself.

  Anger flashed across Morgan's beautiful face and his mouth dropped open as her water bottle flew into the air, hovered over his head, before dumping the contents in his lap.

  "Hey!" Baird shouted, gasping in shock as he stared at Morgan, his mind working furiously to resolve what had just happened.

  Morgan jumped up and met his shout with her own.

  "Hey back! I can hear what you're thinking! I don't need you to condescend to me with your stupid smile and biased thoughts. I can HEAR YOU. Do you get that? I've always had these powers. Nobody has ever understood me. I've had nobody to help me. My whole life." Angry tears sprung into Morgan's gorgeous eyes, "Not until I came here. For the first time in my life, I've found people who accept me. As I am. And, Dr. Delaney, I don't need you or anyone else to pass your judgment."

  Morgan's thin body trembled with her anger and surprise crossed her face at her words. Baird gathered that she didn’t shout that often. She turned to go.

  "Sit, please," Baird said, shaking his head at what had just transpired. He was used to patients acting out, but this was a whole new level. What was it with this town? There was no way that he could deny what he had just seen. Baird closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

  He owed Aislinn an apology.

  Morgan sat and crossed her arms, angrily wiping away the tears that continued to spring into her eyes.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered softly, refusing to look at the water spot that stained his trousers.

  Baird walked over to the side table and picked up a napkin to dab at his pants. So, Morgan seemed to have more than one gift. He'd have to be careful around her.

  "I won't hurt you," Morgan said, clearly offended.

  Baird turned and surprised himself by laughing at her.

  "I know. I meant careful in my thoughts. As a psychiatrist, I have to run through a few possibilities for what may be going on with you in my head. If you can hear my thoughts, you can't jump to any conclusions. You're going to have to let me be your doctor or I can't treat you."

  Morgan's mouth dropped open.

  "You'd still want to treat me?"

  "Of course. You still want help, don't you?"

  Morgan nodded her head vigorously.


  "Please," she whispered. "Please don't give up on me."

  Baird walked over and held out his hand to her.

  "You stay out of my mind and let me work on helping you and promise not to pull any more tricks and I'll treat you. Deal?"

  Morgan's hand felt warm and clammy in his own, and he was suddenly grateful that he had the opportunity to treat her. It was clear that healing herself was very important to her.

  "Deal," Morgan whispered.

  Chapter thirty-three

  Aislinn stood back and studied the vision that had come to her during a dream one night. It would be the masterpiece, the showpiece, the grand dame of the collection, she thought.

  It was a triptych. A three-paneled painting of the ocean. Each canvas would be framed in driftwood and was floor-to-ceiling height. She'd had to lay the canvas on the floor of her apartment to paint and then alternate between getting a ladder and tacking them to the wall to stand before them and see the paintings from that angle.

  It was all the moods of the sea in one. The water rolled between the three panels, from softly gentle waters to a raging fury in the last piece.

  But it was the middle piece that haunted her.

  The cove jutted out, proudly arrogant, owning the middle panel, showcasing how land and sea warred with each other.

  Loved each other.

  But, she wasn't finished. Wasn't sure if she could finish it. If she could really feel what was needed in order to complete it.

  Aislinn brought her hands to her eyes in balled fists. When she closed her eyes she could all but feel how the painting should be finished, but something stopped her from bringing the image out of her mind. Into her work.

  It was enough to drive her mad. Or make her cry. Instead, she moved into her kitchen for a sip of whiskey. She'd bypassed wine earlier this week and instead went straight for the hard stuff to take the edge off the emotions that raged inside of her when she painted. Whomever said painting was cathartic was nuts, Aislinn thought. It was more like opening a wound and then pouring salt in it, she thought as she laughed into her glass of whiskey.

  A knock at her back door had her head lifting up. Aislinn glanced to the clock by her bed. It was after 11:00 at night.