by Sara Forbes
I even contemplated sitting down and writing her an old-fashioned letter. But I don’t have her home address.
I consulted Garrett on the matter. “Sounds like she doesn’t want you to come find her,” was my best friend’s comment. He meant it kindly, but it cut deep just to hear the truth from another person.
So, I’m just trying to get on with restoring and with the job. At least I’m contributing to the next generation. The ironic thing is, there might not be a next generation if I don’t start socializing. But the thought of going up to Dublin for yet another date makes me feel slightly ill.
Mrs. Muldoon comes out into the yard and offers us tea. She’s piled on the sandwiches on a large plate to form a pyramid.
“Good to have you back, Mrs. Muldoon,” I say. “But you shouldn’t be running around so much. The doc said to take it easy, didn’t he?”
“But you’ve gotten fierce thin,” she says, her mouth pursing. “Apparently the young lady who took over from me didn’t feed you properly.”
“She fed me just fine.” I manage to keep a straight face. “But it was different.”
She makes a “hmpf” sound then leans in conspiratorially. “Has your mother still got the notions about you and Cliona?”
I shake my head. “Not anymore.”
“One less worry, I suppose.”
“Yes, I suppose.”
Would I be better off with Cliona than with no-one? I try to picture that, but the only person I can picture walking down the aisle in a big white dress is Shannon Leora. Hell, the only person I can picture ever sleeping with again, is Shannon.
I am so thoroughly fucked.
Or not, as the case may be.
***
After eating enough sandwiches to keep Mrs. Muldoon happy, I go out and tend to the horses. I saddle up Sofa King and ride over to the Stephenson estate to talk to Cliona and Lorcan. Lorcan has a half day from school today and they’ll be sure to be home.
I’ve been avoiding Lorcan these past few days, or minimizing the contact by making excuses about having to work on the house maintenance. I know I have to stop doing that. If Shannon were here, she’d have made sure of it and kicked me out of the house if necessary.
Shannon taught me that hiding away from people just makes things worse. In her relatively short time in Ballytirrel, she’s brought me closer to Nuala, Sean, my own mother, and—unthinkably—Seamus and Niall Callaghan. I’m convinced, in time, that my relationship with Lorcan will be on a better footing too—a more honest one.
I no longer feel like a pariah walking around Ballytirrel. Shannon has made me want to make a proper effort to be sociable. The other day, someone I don’t know stopped me in the shop and asked me where that nice American girl went to. I just answered “home” and walked on. I suppose I need some practice, but the fact that I regretted being abrupt is a sign that I've made progress.
Riding Sofa King feels great. We jump over ditches and canter on the sides of fields of barley, the clump-clump of his hooves on the hard mud soothing to the soul. Dedalus is in ecstasy, bounding alongside us, stopping every now and then to investigate something that his doggy mind has convinced him is lurking in the bushes.
We come up the back way to the Stephenson Estate. Cliona’s own horse, Thelma, whinnies when she senses us. Dedalus goes into a frenzy of barking and Sofa King snorts back.
Cliona comes out of the great house wearing gardening gloves and is carrying a dangerous looking shears. She’s in her natural element.
“Look who it is,” she says smiling. She glances back toward the house. Lorcan will be out in a minute.”
“How is he doing?”
“He’s fine, Danny. He honestly still thinks it’s kind of exciting that you killed Owen. And he knows the difference between accidental and deliberate. Really, it’s fine. My biggest problem is trying to persuade him not to brag about it in school.”
“Oh God, “I mutter.
“Have you heard from Shannon? Lorcan’s been asking about her. He misses her.”
“He misses her,” I say wryly. “No, she’s not answering her phone.”
“Well, it’s only been two weeks.”
“And every day makes it less likely she’ll ever want to talk.”
“Can’t you just go over there?”
“I can’t. I’ve got the house, Mother, the horses, you and Lorcan—”
She laughs. “Which would all survive without you for a week, incredible though that may seem.”
“I don’t even know where she lives in Texas.”
“I thought of that, and I have an idea, but it’s a long shot, and maybe you’re not going to like it.”
“Tell me.”
“Seamus talked to her. Maybe he knows something. You know the way he gets information out of people and never says much about himself?”
“You ask him then.”
“No, Danny, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She looks down at her shears. “I just can’t, OK?”
“Well, I’m not asking him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Danny, he’s Lorcan’s uncle. He’s not going anywhere. You can’t avoid him forever.”
There’s a brightness to her demeanor that has been absent for the longest time. Suddenly it’s clear to me why—even if she won’t admit it to herself.
I pause for a long moment. Christ. I’ve been way too wrapped up in my own problems.
“Want to go down the pub later?” I ask. “We could leave Lorcan with Mother and then walk down.”
“MacAuleys? You’re not serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am.” I smile. “It’s time I showed my face there.”
“Oh boy.” She blows out a breath and looks like she’s going to say no. “You know what? You’re on. I’ll watch extra carefully to make sure Fergus MacAuley doesn’t spit in your pint.”
“How kind of you.”
“What are friends for?” she says.
***
We enter the pub, Cliona and I. And it’s exactly as I imagined. A few heads turn to check out who’s coming in the door. This is followed by flurry of activity as people inform other people. Finally, all eyes in the pub latch on to us.
The crowd parts to let us through like we’re Moses at the Red Sea—or we’re infected with something terrible. We aim for the bar where a space has already been cleared for us. I order two bottles of Carlsberg from Fergus—bottles that I make sure he opens in front of us.
Cliona and I clink bottles. I nod at various people I know vaguely from stints in the post office or at the vet’s. Some nod back. Others stare through me.
“The gang’s all here.” Cliona nods to the back corner by the window—the Callaghan enclave. Seamus, Niall, and Enda. Some things never change.
The crowd looks on in unconcealed amazement as Cliona and I make our way over there.
Niall and Enda scowl at us as we approach, but give the nod.
Seamus runs a hand through his longish hair and I hear him mutter “Jaysus.”
What? Is he having a bad hair day?
“Hello, Seamus, Niall, Enda,” I say curtly.
“Danny.” Seamus greets me with matching curtness, apparently speaking for all three. His gaze moves to Cliona. “Lady Stephenson.”
Her cheeks grow pinker under his gaze and she doesn’t have a comeback even though I know she doesn’t like being called that. Most people have turned back to their conversations now that the risk of a fight seems to have abated. No free entertainment tonight, folks.
I clear my throat. “I’m not trying to be friends with you, don’t worry.”
“Who’s worried?” Seamus asks.
“I just wanted to ask you if…if Shannon said anything to you.”
“She said a few things to me.” He grins wickedly. “Anything in particular?”
I huff out a breath. Rise above it. “The thing is, I can’t locate her.”
Seamus’s eyebrows arch even higher. “And how�
��s that my problem?”
I look at Cliona as if to say I told you so. She gives me an encouraging nod.
“Maybe,” I say, “maybe she gave you some hints as to where she lives? Anything at all would help.”
Seamus watches us with hawk-like focus. Until, that is, Cliona swings her eyes to meet his. Then he pulls his gaze away. “OK.” He slowly strokes his beard. “She might have dropped some info.”
I wait. Very patiently.
His two brothers have stopped what they were talking about and are watching us.
“Texas Girl,” Niall explains to Enda.
Enda nods. “She was hot.”
I glare at him. “You’re too young for her. You’re not even allowed drink where she comes from.”
“I’m twenty-one,” Enda protests.
Seamus is smiling now. “Children, please. OK, Danny, here’s what I know, and I’m giving it to you free of charge. She told me she’s from Austin, well obviously you know that. She had a condo in Riverside but she was moving back to live with her mom in Georgetown. They live opposite the library. It may be enough for you to locate her—if she’s even there.”
“You got all that?” I ask in amazement.
“Yeah, you didn’t? Too busy to talk, what?”
There’s a round of laughter from the onlookers.
“Something like that,” I say.
“Well, at least you had your priorities right,” he answers. Now he’s looking at Cliona who’s studying something outside the window. “Just go get the girl, Moore,” he adds.
Cliona swings her head around and looks Seamus square in the face. “Don’t worry, he will.”
33
SHANNON
It’s a dusty Thursday at the beginning of May when I come home to see an unfamiliar car by the curb.
Brett, again?
With trepidation, I open the door. There are voices in the kitchen. I march in, ready with the most blinding of curses to cut Brett into pieces.
Then I freeze.
It’s not Brett. It’s a man I don’t expect to ever see in our kitchen, sitting across from my mom.
I register his broad shoulders, tapering to the trim waist, the lustrous black hair, the sharp angles of his cheeks and jawbones, and finally, when he turns to me—the glow of his blue eyes. He’s wearing a crisp, white T-shirt under a black blazer.
He is simply to die for.
“Danny?” I drop my laptop bag on the floor.
He pushes back his chair and rises. “Shannon.” He sounds as dumbfounded as I do.
I shake my head in wonder at my mom and then walk over and fall into his arms. He clasps me tight and it’s the best feeling in the world. Bright colors flood back into my monochromatic world.
“B-but how?”
“Long story.” He draws back and inspects my face. “Are you alright with this? With me being here?”
“Yes…yes!”
He clasps me into his taut, warm chest and, even with my mother staring up at me, my body goes into full meltdown. I’ve missed this so much—his presence, his touch, his hard, passionate masculinity.
It’s like the two halves of my world have slotted into place.
I laugh out of sheer joy and wonder. “You came for me? Even though I’ve been so stubborn?”
“I know what it’s like to want to shut yourself away, Shannon. I wanted to see if I could offer a different perspective to the narrative going on in your head. That’s what you did for me when you came to my doorstep that day in February.”
“Oh, Danny,” is all I can say. He's right, of course. I want to slide my hands under the hem of his t-shirt and rekindle the flames. I want to show him just how much I’ve missed him, but that will mean moving him to a room alone.
“Shannon,” my mother says. “Sit down and have a cup of tea with us. You look exhausted.”
I turn to her, suddenly thinking it strange that she’s had a chat with Danny already. Pity I missed out on that moment of introduction.
I obey and take a place at the small kitchen table. Under the table, my knees press up against Danny’s. It’s our secret bond until we can be alone.
My mother’s face has a youthful flush to it. She’s clearly been charmed by my Irish duke.
Danny turns smoothly to her. “Rose, now that Shannon’s here, I can tell you the story. But first—as background—you were going to tell us about that fateful day. About you and Nuala?”
She nods. “Yes, and Shannon—” she gives me a somewhat guilty smile—"I didn’t tell you this before—I didn’t want to bias you against your aunt, but as I know you got on well, it’s OK if you hear it now.”
I stare at her and then at him. How in the hell did he manage to get her talking about this?
Danny slides me a look before giving my mom his full attention again.
“This was 1989. Unemployment was at a high and we were going off to America together to look for jobs,” she says in a quavering voice. “This was a huge adventure for us. You can’t imagine how big. The plan was, I was going find a job as a teacher and she was going to find work as a nurse.”
Danny and I nod eagerly.
“I was living in Dublin at the time. She was coming up from home, from Ballytirrel on the early train and was going to join me at the airport at eleven a.m.—three hours before the flight to New York, to be on the safe side. I’d never flown before.
“Well, eleven came, then midday. I was going crazy! This was before mobile phones. I got on a public phone in the airport and called her and called her until someone waiting behind me told me to get off the phone or they’d call security. They were announcing the flight. I had a decision to make—go alone or stay.
“I knew I’d never do it if I didn’t now. We had a hotel booked in New York for the first two weeks, non-refundable. It was the hardest choice of my life, but in the end, I went for it. I was so mad at her. And absolutely petrified.”
She shakes her head. “I kept thinking maybe she’d come at the last minute, you know? I was sweating it out for two hours at the gate, swinging back and forth on my decision. But my luggage was checked in to the hold and I wasn’t sure how to even get out of flying even if I wanted to. I just closed my eyes and said a prayer and let myself be herded along with all the other passengers."
“Oh, Mom,” I say, overcome by empathy. “You should have told me this before.”
“Well, you’re hearing it now, Shannon. On that flight, I thought of every scenario from her being dead to my father suddenly forbidding her to go—or himself having a heart attack. When I got to the hotel in New York, the first thing I did in the room was to place an expensive long-distance call from the phone in the room. I asked her what had happened and you know what she said?”
We shake our heads vigorously.
“That she didn’t feel up to it! She said she was terribly sorry and that I should just come home if it didn’t work out.” Cold as ice.
I gasp. “That’s all?” I picture Nuala and I can’t see her flaking out like this. “Poor Mom!” I reach out and hold her hand in mine.
Danny’s shaking his head too.
She nods. “Well, I stayed on, just to prove her wrong. Everyone wrong. I know they were all saying behind my back that I wouldn’t make it alone. Well, I found a waitressing job the next day and went from there.” Mom turns to Danny. “Two years later, I met Shannon’s father, Hector. Life hasn’t always been easy, but I sure showed them.”
Danny nods. “Rose, you did. And I truly understand why you couldn’t bear to visit Nuala or return home after that.”
She looks at him. “Do you? Good. I mean I’m not so pigheaded that I’d forbid Shannon to go there, of course, and I’m genuinely happy they got on.”
“Me too,” he says with a warm smile. “But now I must speak to that.”
Mom and I stare at him.
“Rose,” he continues. “The reason why Nuala couldn’t come that day was that she was helping someone. She was helping a wom
an deliver a baby in breech position, and she saved a life—or two—that day. Your sister stayed there for a week, helping her, and making sure she got regular house visits from a doctor in Limerick. That woman was very proud, private woman and she made Nuala swear not to mention to anyone that she’d had to come and do that. I only heard the story myself yesterday.”
Mom’s lips twist with scorn, “Well, that’s a new one. Of course, she’d come up with something like that.”
“No,” Danny cuts in. “It’s all true. I know because that woman was my mother. That baby was my sister.”
Her eyes widen. “Your sister?”
He nods. “Half-sister, actually. Illegitimate. The father was a German businessman—a one-night stand. My father was off serving in the army in Lebanon at the time. Hence my mother not wanting the world to know when she was born, as they'd be able to count the months back and do the math. When Father came back, he was furious and separated from her, although divorce didn’t exist in Ireland then. They lived separate lives within the castle for two years after that until he died. The locals don’t know about any of this.”
“I knew this story, of course,” Danny continues, “but I didn’t hear about Nuala’s involvement until my mother told me yesterday, and she gave Nuala permission to finally tell you if she wanted to, who in turn gave me permission to tell you.”
“Oh God.” Mom sinks her face into her hands. “That’s why she stayed?”
Danny and I exchange a quick look across the table. His eyes smolder as if he knows he’s fixed something—the bridge to our future. Happiness wells up from a deep place inside of me, bubbling up through my body like Champagne.
“Rose, will you come back to Ballytirrel?” he asks softly. “Come for a visit. Your sister wants to see you.”
Mom’s eyes are veiled in thought when she looks at Danny again. “Did she say that?”
“She did.”
“Shannon, do you want to go over again?” she asks.
“Uhm.” I try to suppress the massive smile that wants to break out on my face. “Yeah, why not?”
