by Lesley Crewe
“If only it were that simple.”
He turned her around. “Be with me. Let me show you.”
“I do want to, but…”
“Trust me.”
She looked at him and nodded ever so slightly. He picked her up and carried her into the house. He took her back to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. Her legs were bare and his t-shirt was so big it fell off her shoulders. She got up on her elbows. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“In a million years, that would never happen. Believe me. I just need to touch your skin.”
He got down beside her in the bed and gathered her into his arms. She fit perfectly. They held each other for a long time before he gathered up the courage to kiss her. And the minute he did, he knew he was in trouble. It was one thing to kiss her on the porch or in a car, but to have her lying next to him was a completely different sensation. As his hand traveled under her t-shirt and felt the warmth of her satin skin, he knew he was lost. Too quickly he pushed her shirt up, and the sight of her naked body was too much. He stopped.
She opened her eyes. “Seamus?”
At that moment, he knew he couldn’t control himself. He was terrified of making love to her. He turned his head and rested his cheek on her stomach. His face rose and fell with her breathing.
“Seamus?”
“I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m going to hurt you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I have to stop. You have to believe me.” He pushed off her and, without looking back, walked out of the room. He went into the bathroom and turned on the tap, dousing his face with cold water before leaning over the sink and letting the water drip. He didn’t know when he’d felt so miserable in his own body. It was at war with his mind and he wanted it to end. And now he didn’t know how to go out and face her. His head pounded and his throat was parched. Maybe he was coming down with something. He felt sick, very sick.
And suddenly he was. He didn’t make it to the toilet. He vomited all over the bathroom floor. Again and again, his stomach tried to get rid of the agony of the last twenty-four hours.
He heard the door open and she stood there in her bare feet.
“Seamus.”
“Please, please leave me alone. I’ll be okay. I just need a min—” He spewed over the floor again. “Go.”
She shut the door. He bent over with his hands on his knees, saliva hanging down from his lips. He waited to see if that was it. He had to keep swallowing. She knocked on the door.
“What?”
“Seamus, do you need me?”
“No. Please. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“Yes. I’ll be better then. Come tomorrow.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I know. I…” He never got to finish his sentence. He was sick once more.
He eventually started to feel better once all that misery was on the floor instead of in him. He brushed his teeth and took great gulps of mouthwash to rid himself of the taste. It took him a long time to clean it up and by the time he was done, he was exhausted, so he limped into the shower and stayed there, letting the water pound the back of his neck and his shoulders. When there was no hot water left, he got out and, still wearing the damp towel, stretched across the bed and fell into a deep sleep.
At around suppertime the phone rang and woke him up. He wasn’t sure where he was at first. He grabbed the phone. Maybe it was Libby.
“Hello?”
“Hi Seamus, it’s me.”
“Oh, hi.”
“Listen, I didn’t hear from you so I wondered if you wanted me to keep the kids again tonight?”
“I’m sorry, I should’ve called. I’ve been in bed all day. I think I have the flu.”
“Oh dear. Well, obviously I better keep the kids for another night.”
“That would really be a help. I think I’ll stay in bed and try to get some rest.”
“You do that. Lots of liquids now. And if your temperature goes up, you can always take Tylenol or something.”
“I know, I know.”
“Okay, well, if you’re sure you’re all right.”
“I am. I’ll call you if I need you. I promise.”
“Okay then. Oh, Sarah wants to say something.”
“Okay.”
“Hi Daddy.”
“Hi baby. Are you being good for Aunt Colleen?”
“Yeah.”
“Daddy misses you.”
“Me you too.”
“Is Jack there?”
“No. He baseball.”
“Okay, don’t call him in. Give Aunt Colleen the phone and I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
“Too.”
“Hello…did you want me to call Jack in? He’s playing outside.”
“No. Just tell him I’ll probably see him tomorrow.”
“Okay, dear. Love ya.”
“Love you too.”
He hung up the phone and lay on the bed for another hour at least, not thinking of anything. Then he got up and put his bathrobe on. He was hungry but he wasn’t. In the end he had some cereal. He fed Dexter then he went back to bed and turned on the TV. It was still on when he woke up the next morning.
Seamus felt much better because he knew she was coming today. They’d be able to talk about things more rationally. It had been too emotional to make any sense of anything before, but now that they had a chance to go away and think it would be easier.
He got dressed, tidied up, and made lunch. If it was like before, she’d come after she’d spent the morning with her aunt and uncle. He didn’t want to think about it being her last day, had to put it right out of his mind. He wanted her to see that he looked a little more normal today.
The first hour after lunch he laughed to himself, because she was always late. The second hour he was concerned about her. Maybe her family found out where she was last night and were giving her a hard time. The third hour he thought maybe he’d pushed her too hard. He shouldn’t have asked her to marry him, should have waited to make love to her. The fourth hour he still knew she was coming because she’d never leave again without saying goodbye.
At eight o’clock that night, he called the MacKinnon house.
“Hello?”
“Hi. Is Libby there?”
“Why no. She’s gone. Flew to New York today.”
That wasn’t right.
“She was supposed to be leaving tomorrow.”
“I know. We were pretty surprised and sorry to see her go. It’s been such fun, but she told us her agent called and said she had to leave today.” He held the phone to his ear and breathed into it.
“Who’s calling, please? Would you like to leave a message?”
He couldn’t move.
“Seamus? Is that you?”
He hung up the phone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
She didn’t blame him. He had every right to be sick. Sick about what she’d told him, sick at the thought of making love to her, knowing that she’d been used like tissue and tossed aside. Ava knew exactly how he felt. She’d felt it herself for years. What made her feel guilty was that he tried so hard for her. A loving and caring man who tried to help her but in the end couldn’t mask his true feelings. They were plain to see splattered on the bathroom floor.
She had to go. It would be fairer in the end to step out of his life and let him get on with his. She knew he’d be upset for a while and then angry with her, but anger was good. Maybe anger would allow him to pick up the pieces of his life and move on. She refused to hurt him anymore. Loving him was a beautiful dream that would simply never come true.
The twenty-minute drive into Glace Bay was spent preparing for her role as loving niece and sister without a care in the world—who’d come back for Christmas and maybe even Easter, if her schedule allowed.
She drove into the yard and waved to Geranium, then took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen. “I’m home.
”
Uncle Angus was rocking in the rocking chair. He looked up from the paper. “Hello darlin’.”
She bounced over and kissed him. “Hi. What’s new with the state of the world?”
“Nothin’ that a good kick in the arse wouldn’t cure.”
Aunt Vi came out of the pantry. “Good morning, honey. Did Rose give you breakfast?”
“You know Rose. I couldn’t leave without stuffing my face.”
Her aunt came over to her and lifted her chin with the crook of her finger. “You look peaked. You have bags under your eyes. Did you get enough sleep last night?”
“We were up pretty late, you know…girl talk.”
“Hmm.”
“I think I’ll go have a shower.”
“Okay, dear. Should be some hot water left.”
She went upstairs and closed the bedroom door. Her clothes were as she’d left them before she went to him last night. Was it only last night or was it a thousand years ago? The shower beckoned because she had to think. By the time she was done she had a plan. But of course it would depend on whether she could keep from going out of her mind.
Back in the bedroom she picked up the cell phone and called Air Canada. There was a plane out of Sydney in the morning so she booked a first-class ticket to New York. Time to call her agent.
“Hi Trent.”
“Good God, she’s alive!”
“Sort of.”
“You can see I kept my word,” Trent said.
“What?”
“I didn’t bug you all summer.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Did you have a good one?”
“My mother died.”
“Oh God, I forgot. Did I send flowers?”
“Your P.A. did.”
“Shit.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Mental telepathy is quite something. I was going to call you tomorrow because if I’m correct you’re flying in the day after that.”
“I’m leaving in the morning, actually. I wanted to let you know so you could book an extra night.”
“Will do. Does the Plaza suit, or shall I…”
“The Plaza’s fine.”
“I do hope you’re rested up dumpling, because the week is going to be filled with pre-production meetings and director’s meetings. You’ll have to meet with the producers.”
“I thought all that was done.”
“There have been a few changes.”
“What?”
“Don’t get panicky. Nothing drastic, but they fired the director and we have a new hot shot on board who’s very ready to impress the studios. He’s keen and he’s full of ideas.”
“Oh, spare me.”
“Don’t be like that, Ava. You’re beginning to have a hint of a reputation for being difficult and if you get too pouty, it could keep you from earning the big bucks.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Trent. A-list actors who earn the really big bucks are in another stratosphere altogether.”
“But you’re not far behind. That’s what I keep trying to stress. Just a little more gas in that engine and you’ll be off the charts too.”
“And naturally, that’s the only thing I want in life.”
There was dead air.
“Sorry.”
“I hope you’re hormonal, because if you waltz into New York with this fucking attitude, your ass will be on the first plane outta there. The studios aren’t putting up with shit from prima donnas. There are too many eager beavers in the wing, and I do mean beavers.”
“What a disgusting thing to say. Is that all these young girls are? You think all of us sleep our way into a career. I thought you were classier than that, Trent.”
“You’re right, I apologize. But I am trying to make life easier for you. I know what they’re like and it’s getting meaner by the picture. I’m in your corner but you have to meet me halfway.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Yes, I know. I’m just a little tired.”
“I’ll pick you up, then, the day after tomorrow and we’ll head over there about ten. Okay by you?”
“Fine.”
“Camilla will be coming a couple of days later. She’s in Europe at the moment, organizing your upcoming appearances at various film festivals. Hopefully, they haven’t forgotten you completely.”
“Right.”
“Be good, my little retirement fund.”
She hung up. “Goodbye, jerk.”
The next call was more difficult. She had to be strong for this one.
“Hey, Lola!”
“Hi sweetie! I was going to call you tomorrow.”
“I was going to call you too.”
“Only two more days. Can you bear to leave?”
She bit her knuckle. “Not really.”
“Oh gosh, I don’t blame you. I miss Aunt Vi and Uncle Angus so much.”
“Well honey, they miss you too. Listen, how’s your mother?”
“She’s really good, thanks. She opted to have the lumpectomy and she’s having her radiation therapy now. The doctors are optimistic because she caught it early, so fingers crossed.”
“And toes.”
“As it looks now, I think I’ll be able to make it, for a little while anyway.”
“Oh honey, you don’t have to do that.”
“No, really. I’m going out of my mind, anyway. There’s something about being almost thirty and living in your old bedroom that’s sort of freaky. My mom still has my cheerleading trophies in here.”
“Cheerleading? I don’t believe it. My little rebel?”
“Teenagers always go through a hellish stage. That was mine.”
“I’ve missed you,” Ava laughed.
“Me too. Now what’s today…Sunday? You’re flying into New York on Tuesday, so how about I meet you there on Wednesday. I have a few things I have to do first.”
“Wednesday will be fine.”
“Maurice and Harold should be there by then. We’ll have a girl’s night in. At the Plaza, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Who are you under this time?”
“I was thinking Geranium.” Lola’s laughter made her smile. “I can’t think of a last name though.”
“Easy. Potts.”
“Perfect.”
“See you soon! I can’t wait.”
“Me either. Love you.”
“You too.” She made kissy noises before she hung up.
Now all she had to do was tell everyone she was leaving a day early.
Her packing was finished in an hour. She left out clothes for the next day and put on jeans and a sleeveless blouse, since it looked like another hot day. It had been a great summer, mostly beach weather, which only reminded her of Seamus and the kids.
Sarah’s shell was on the window ledge. When she picked it up a bit of dry sand fell out of it. She kissed it and tucked it into her jewelry case.
Then it was downstairs to break the news. She arranged her face into a woe-begotten look and walked into the kitchen slowly with her hands in her pockets. Her aunt and uncle looked at her.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re not going to believe it.”
“What?”
“My agent called and told me I have to be in New York tomorrow.” It killed her to see their faces fall.
“But I’m having everyone over for dinner tomorrow. A grand send-off,” Aunt Vi moaned.
“I’m sorry. I can’t get out of it. I signed a contract and I have to be there when they tell me to.”
Uncle Angus threw his newspaper on the floor. “Well, don’t that just beat all. What on earth would one day matter?” He pointed at her. “You see! That’s what’s wrong with the world. The tail’s waggin’ the dog. No one gives a damn how people feel, so long as there’s money to be made.”
She suddenly remembered. “Oh my god, what about Teddy Bear!” At the sound of his name, Teddy rushed over from his bed by the window and jumped up on his moth
er. Ava picked him up and held him close, kissing his face. “I can’t leave him in a hotel room alone. Why didn’t I think of that before? What am I going to do?”
“He’ll stay here with us of course, until you’re ready to go back to California,” Uncle Angus said. “Dog would miss him anyway, wouldn’t you Dog?”
Dog thumped his tail at the sound of his name.
Ava reached down and kissed Uncle Angus’s bald head. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“I know,” Aunt Vi said. “Everyone will come for supper tonight. It won’t be fancy, but if everyone brings something, it won’t matter.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll call.”
“You do that. I have to make four pies.”
“Am I going to spend my last day with you baking?”
Aunt Vi turned around. “You used to love to watch me bake. You can help me.”
“I’d love to,” she squeaked.
Her aunt hurried over, as fast as one can be with a cane. “Sweetheart, don’t cry now. We can’t waste the day in tears. Time enough for that tomorrow.”
She nodded and sniffed.
Luckily, it didn’t matter to the family whether they had their meal that night or the next, it was all the same to them, except that every–one hated to think they’d miss a whole day with Libby. Everyone came over earlier than they ordinarily would have, just so they could have a bit of a visit.
If she had been up for another Academy Award for her performance, she’d have won hands down again. She reassured them constantly that’s she’d come back on a regular basis and if she couldn’t get to them, they’d have to come to her. Her house was big enough to hold them all. But she knew in her heart she’d never return to the island again.
At the table that night, they laughed until they cried at Maurice and Harold stories.
“I’ve got a batch of oatcakes in the freezer and blueberry muffins. Can you take it to them, dear, or do you have too much to carry?” Aunt Vi asked.
“I’ll put them with my carry-on luggage. They’d never forgive me if I left them behind.”
Vicky stood up. “We have something for them too.” She ran out of the kitchen for a minute and came back with a picture. “We made sure we took one of the three of us at the prom with our dates.” She passed it to her aunt.
