A Little Learning

by Margot Early

  “Intuition, maybe. It’s not about him, anyhow. There’s just something that’s not right.”

  “That’s a good thing to pay attention to.” Her father’s expression showed regret, whether because of her doubts or his own history, she couldn’t guess.

  “What was your intuition,” Rory said, “before you married my mother?”

  “To be perfectly honest, I didn’t have a moment’s doubt. I don’t regret having married her, Rory, any more than I regret that we had you.”

  But he was a proud man, she knew, and her mother had been unfaithful.

  Strangely, none of her doubts extended to the idea of living with Seamus and his family, even for the rest of her life. It was the thought of marriage. To anyone.

  And she didn’t understand why she should feel that way.

  She told her father this.

  He laughed. “I understand why you might feel that way. Your own parents’ marriage didn’t have a happy ending. And you were raised by a single woman—a widow, yes, but also a woman disinclined to marry again.”

  “That’s not enough to explain it. Maybe there’s some purpose in store for me that precludes marriage. Or that marriage would preclude.”

  “I do know this,” Kurt said. “You can be a couple for ten years, but it’s not the same relationship you have after you say, ‘I do.’”

  And that, Rory realized, was what frightened her. That she had no idea what would follow, if she said those words to Seamus.

  But suddenly things fell into place for Rory. She’d never run from what frightened her, just because it was unknown, and she wasn’t about to run this time. She would marry Seamus Lee as soon as he was ready. It was what she wanted, too.

  She fingered the ring that was still on her finger.

  “Thank you,” she said. “This probably sounds crazy, but what you’ve said actually helped.”

  *

  THEY SET THE DATE for June twenty-first. The wedding would be in Sultan, outdoors if the weather permitted, in a meadow a few hundred feet above the town.

  Seamus told his children all together, as he’d told them of the engagement, on a Saturday in May. Rory was coming to Telluride to go for a hike with him and the three younger children. Lauren said she didn’t want to go.

  After telling them of the wedding date, the boys and Belle wandered off to pursue their own interests while Lauren lingered behind with her father.

  The two had maintained a shaky peace ever since Lauren’s birthday. She wore Janine’s letter jacket every day, and Seamus wasn’t even sure that she liked it. He knew she hadn’t forgotten the things he’d said at lunch that day. After such arguments, she always seemed remorseful and appeared to take the blame for making him angry. At those times, he felt hope that she understood that her mother hadn’t necessarily always been someone to emulate. But then her attitude would change again and they’d be back to square one. Rory’s birthday present remained in its box, stacked on top of a pile of books in one corner of her room, as if forgotten.

  It puzzled Seamus that Lauren could be so disinterested in this gift, when she had previously been so taken with belly dance and fire-twirling. She had liked Rory—until Rory had agreed to marry her father.

  Now, Seamus pointed this out.

  “There wasn’t anything else to do in Sultan,” Lauren said morosely. “Look, lots of women like you, Dad, and I’m sure they know that liking us is also some kind of requirement for landing you. You know, making things permanent. And sure, I believe she actually likes us, but it was pretty clear that the two of you were mostly into each other. Anyhow, I know you’re not going to do what I say, but, no, I don’t want you to marry her. We don’t need her.”

  “I’m not sure your brothers and sister would agree with that.”

  “Oh, they like her. But they don’t really care one way or another what you decide.”

  “Why don’t you want me to marry her?”

  Lauren shook her head, looking exasperated. “It’s just like you want someone on your side.”

  “My side in what?”

  “Against Mom. You wanted to divorce her. I know that, and you can’t hide it or deny it.”

  She was right, he silently acknowledged. He had, by the end, wanted to divorce his wife.

  “So it’s really like my parents are divorced,” Lauren said, “except that my mother is actually dead, and my father doesn’t miss her. And he gets to write history the way he wants, because she can’t defend herself.”

  Her interpretation staggered him—particularly the accusation of rewriting history.

  She said, “I suppose we’ll be moving to Sultan, now.”

  “I haven’t decided about that.”

  “It would be okay,” she said. “I mean, it’s not like there are any guys I like here who are my age, either. At least there…” Her voice drifted off. Clearly, she feared she’d said too much. She shook her head.

  Seamus waited.

  “I just wish we could move there without Rory being part of it. I wish you thought we were enough for you.”

  “It’s not a question of your not being enough. I fell in love with Rory, and not least because she loves all of you. I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

  “What if she starts doing things you don’t like, the way Mom did?”

  Seamus considered this. When had he begun thinking about divorcing Janine? Not until she’d bought the gun? Was it just that one issue? No. But it was the gun that had made him think there might be no way other than divorce to get past their differences. He’d known, however, that even if they were divorced, she would still own a gun and sometimes the children would be in a home where a gun was kept.

  “I’m sure there will be times when she does things I don’t like. That’s part of marriage.”

  “She’s not as smart as Mom. Mom was an attorney. Rory’s just had a bunch of blue-collar jobs.”

  Seamus decided to let that pass for the moment. “Lauren,” he said, “I love Rory, I plan to marry her, and I expect you to respect her and treat her courteously. You will be part of our family and go where we go.”

  He watched her, waiting.

  She said, “Fine. Whatever.”

  *

  BEAU AND SEUSS RACED up to Rory when she arrived. As she got out of her car, Beau said, “Watch this.” He crouched in front of Seuss, who was stamping his forefeet impatiently. “Seuss, hug.”

  The German shepherd put his paws on Beau’s shoulders and licked his face.

  Rory grinned broadly. “You are so good with him, Beau. He’s a good puppy, and he’s going to be a great dog, the way you work with him.”

  Beau’s eyes rested on Seuss with pride.

  They went into the house together through the front door and followed the sound of voices to the kitchen.

  Lauren said, “You said you don’t want me to be like Mom. You don’t even respect her that much.”

  Rory hung back.

  Beau’s eyes shifted right and left, and he dropped his head.

  “But I am like her, and I want to be. You just demean her.”

  Seamus glanced up. “Rory. Beau.”

  Lauren spun around, unfazed to learn she’d been overheard.

  Beau stepped toward his sister. “Why don’t you give it up, Lauren? You didn’t even see what she did to herself.”

  Rory saw Seamus freeze and she knew what must be running through his mind. She stared at Beau as his father said to him, “Neither did you.”

  Beau met Seamus’s eyes and he looked as if he might flee. From what?

  “You were outside,” Seamus said.

  Beau seemed to consider whether or not to speak. “I went in the French doors.”

  Seamus turned white. “The police never told me.”

  “They were mad.”

  “I wanted to see her,” Lauren said.

  Rory couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Beau had seen what Seamus had seen.

  “There was so
much blood. The bullet went right through her neck,” Beau told his sister. “You’re being stupid, just like her. You don’t even know what guns do. Why do you think we had to stay in a hotel for three days? It wasn’t just because she died in the house. They had to clean up the blood! They even painted. Don’t you remember the paint?”

  Rory moved close to Beau and put her hands on his shoulders. He was shaking violently. “Two of my friends weren’t even allowed to come over here because their parents knew Mom had a gun. I told her that, and she just looked at me and said, ‘Oh, well.’ That’s what she said, Lauren!”

  Lauren stood stock still. “You’re all ganging up on her. Nobody loves her but me.”

  Lauren’s words terrified Seamus. There was a desperate finality in them, a conclusion that it was Lauren and the memory of Janine against the entire world. A conclusion that Lauren was utterly alone and had no allies.

  He said, “Beau, please take back what you said about your mother and your sister.”

  Beau burst into tears, broke away from Rory and fled. The front door slammed behind him.

  “He only said what you think!” Lauren accused.

  Seamus hated that part of this accusation was true.

  Rory said, “I’m going to check on Beau.”

  “He’s only started to act this way about her since you appeared,” Lauren said. She was speaking to Rory, and “he” was Seamus.

  Rory walked out of the kitchen and then out of the house, following Seamus’s older son and his dog.

  *

  SEAMUS SAGGED AGAINST the counter, then went to the table and sat down. “You win, Lauren,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” She was sneering.

  “We’ll remember your mother the way you want,” he said, hardly understanding what he was saying, knowing only that he could not let his daughter believe herself isolated from the rest of her family.

  “Beau was probably lying,” she said somberly.

  Seamus reached out for her hand and pulled her into the chair next to his. He waited for her to look at him.

  “He wasn’t lying,” he said, and he reached out and hugged his daughter. “I didn’t want any of you to see what I saw, and I don’t think it’s good at all for Beau that he saw it. I think he’s probably going to have to talk to someone about it.”

  “Like a psychiatrist?”

  Pulling back, Seamus shook his head. “A grief counselor. Or someone who’s the right person for a boy his age. Lauren, would you like someone like that to talk to? Someone who listens to you and sympathizes with you and isn’t offended when you tell her your feelings?”

  “If you’re talking about Rory…”

  He shook his head again. “I’m talking about a counselor, Lauren. And Lauren, I meant what I said. I’ll help you remember your mother in the way that’s true for you. It’s wrong of me to do anything else.”

  “But you think it’s a lie.”

  He considered. “No. I think it’s who she is to you, and no one has the right to take that away from you. I know I don’t.”

  Lauren leaned forward, and he realized that his daughter wanted his embrace again.

  So he held her and said, “You’re a wonderful person, Lauren. And if you’re like your mom, that’s a credit to both of you.” He had thought he would choke on the words, but as he spoke them he realized it wasn’t so hard. She was still a child, and he didn’t have to tell her lies about Janine—and he didn’t have to tell her the truth. She was going to idealize Janine, for now, and maybe forever.

  He said, “Lauren, I have to check on Beau now. You understand?”

  She nodded.

  He left her and followed Rory to find his son.

  *

  THEY WERE UNDERNEATH the tree house Seamus had built when Beau was quite young. They sat on a fallen tree trunk that had been converted to a bench. Rory, with her hair in a loose braid, wearing Carhartt shorts, T-shirt and hiking boots, looked like a teenager herself.

  They saw him coming. Beau was wiping his eyes.

  Seamus neared them and crouched in front of his son. “I wish you’d told me.”

  “I didn’t want to get in trouble. The marshals had already yelled at me.”

  “I understand.”

  “Why did I look?”

  “It’s pretty natural.”

  “But she was my mom! Why did I want to see that?”

  “You didn’t,” Seamus answered. “You didn’t know what you would see.”

  Rory said, “Beau thinks it would be okay to talk to a counselor about this.”

  And Lauren said Rory isn’t smart, Seamus thought. Well, she had enough common sense for him; enough common sense to see that his children couldn’t handle this alone.

  Just as she’d helped him see that he couldn’t, either.

  That he couldn’t live life alone.

  *

  THAT EVENING, RORY knocked on Lauren’s door.

  Again, she heard the teenager standing up, coming to the door. Lauren wasn’t someone who just called out an invitation to enter.

  She looked at Rory.

  Rory asked, “May I come in?”

  Lauren shrugged and turned away.

  Rory entered the room and sat down in a white leather chair. “This is comfortable,” she exclaimed in surprise.

  “I like to sit in it when I study,” Lauren said.

  “I want to know if you’ve been practicing with your staff.”

  Lauren shook her head. “Not much.”

  Rory said, “Remember how you said you’d like to be part of a troupe?”

  Lauren looked as if she regretted the words and the thought. “You said I’m not ready.”

  “Well, kind of. Not for lighting fire, yet. You really have to be good with your props before you add fire to what you’re doing. But while I was running the school for my dad I couldn’t teach dance anymore. I just didn’t have the time or energy. So Samantha started doing it. And she’s got two pretty enthusiastic beginning students. But we think five is a good number for a troupe. And you’re naturally graceful and a good athlete. You can do isolations. Your body works well for this. I just thought if you wanted to practice regularly…”

  “You’re bribing me.”

  Rory’s eyes shifted sideways, then back. “Well, let’s put it this way. If you hadn’t gotten mad at me for agreeing to marry your dad, I would have asked you, anyway. If you were going to be in Sultan.”

  “What if we stay here?” Lauren asked.

  “Then, I think we need to get some tribal fusion belly dance going in Telluride. Did you mean, by the way, that you like cabaret style?”

  Lauren made a face. And didn’t answer.

  Rory took that for No. As in, I said that just to hurt you.

  Lauren said, “Doesn’t it seem weird to you that my dad wanted to stay in this house?”

  “He might have thought it was best for the four of you. So that you wouldn’t lose both your mom and your home.”

  Lauren said, “I guess. I didn’t want to move. I just wanted my mom back.”

  “I wish you had her back,” Rory said. “I didn’t know my mom, except when I was a baby. I don’t remember her at all.”

  “Your mom died?” Lauren asked.

  Rory nodded. “In a skiing accident. But it was when I was too little to remember anything.”

  Lauren thought for a minute, and Rory could imagine what she was thinking. Was it better to have loved and lost…? Rory did love her mother, but that was an incomplete feeling. She didn’t have a single memory of her. Only an emptiness.

  Rory said, “Will you please dance and do staff-twirling with me again? If I move here, I won’t have anyone to dance with, and dancing with other people is what’s the most fun for me.”

  “Okay.” Lauren nodded.

  “Have you tried on the stuff I gave you?”

  Lauren shook her head.

  “Maybe another day?” Rory asked.

  “Or, like, tonight. If y
ou stay tonight. You’re probably staying, right?”

  Rory nodded. “Thank you, Lauren.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ON JUNE FOURTH, Caleb’s birthday, Rory joined Lauren outside the house. The two of them were going to take Caleb downtown while Seamus put the finishing touches on his son’s present, a set of skateboard obstacles that could be used on the garage floor or outside in winter with Caleb’s snowskate.

  Lauren’s attitude toward Rory had mellowed slightly. During the three dance practice sessions they’d fit into Rory’s work schedule, the teenager hadn’t exuded the warmth and enthusiasm she’d originally showed. Still, Rory thought that even if Lauren wasn’t encouraging marriage between her father and Rory, she was at least grudgingly accepting it.

  Now, Lauren asked with her typical lack of enthusiasm, “Did you get Caleb anything?”

  Rory nodded. In a low voice, she said, “Just this snowboard/skater sweatshirt he admired in Sultan. I hope he still likes it.”

  “Is it pink?” Lauren asked. Her brother loved shocking pink and wore it with enthusiasm. He was a strong athlete and popular and he knew it. The bright pink was a reflection of that confidence.

  “Black and pink. Yes.” Rory smiled.

  “He’ll like it,” Lauren said.

  “What about you?”

  “I got him a CD. I already gave it to him. I hate his taste in music, but it’s his birthday. You know.”

  “You’re a good sister,” Rory said. “You really take care of all of them.”

  “Well…not Beau,” Lauren pointed out.

  “That’s true.” Both Lauren and Beau had entered counseling, and Seamus had gone to one session on his own. Rory wanted to ask Lauren about her counselor, if she liked the woman, that kind of thing, but it felt too much like prying into something private.

  “You spend more time with us than with Dad,” Lauren observed.

  It wasn’t so, of course, because every time she came to Telluride, Rory spent the evening with Seamus, touching, laughing and making plans for the future. She said now, “I see plenty of him. I’ll be glad when my dad can be back at work all the time, though.” She’d cut her hours to four days a week, which left her more time to be with the Lees, but Kurt Gorenzi still had not regained his strength completely. Where he had previously seemed young and vital, suddenly he had aged.