An Eternity in a Moment

by K Carothers

  Luke sighed. “He’s not your responsibility, Erin.”

  “A lot of people could have said the same thing about me when I was growing up in the house next door. And if they had, God only knows what would have happened to me. But they cared, even though it wasn’t their responsibility—people like Jenna’s parents and Nolan O’Reilly. There was also a social worker who came to the house every month for over a year, and I doubt she really had to keep…coming…”

  Erin’s voice trailed off as the image of that social worker flashed through her mind: the woman’s friendly face and reddish-brown hair, those eyes the color of a summer sky—Luke’s eyes. “Jo,” she whispered, finally making the connection.

  “Who is that?” Luke asked.

  Erin blinked out of her reverie and looked up at him in astonishment. “I keep getting this feeling that I’ve met your mom before. I thought maybe I’d just seen her at some point when we were in school. But now I’m pretty sure she was the social worker who used to come and check on me. It had to be her.”

  “Why would she have needed to check on you?”

  Erin smiled grimly. “I guess you don’t know all my secrets after all. My grandmother—Helen—was a very angry woman, and I became an equally rebellious child. A lot of times we’d get into fights that ended in me being locked in my bedroom.”

  A different kind of anger sparked in Luke’s eyes. “Jesus Christ! She locked you up?”

  “It really wasn’t that bad after a while. But then I got a little too brave, and she caught me trying to escape down a tree. She locked me in the basement that time, and it was the most terrifying experience of my life—or at least it had been until you got exposed to fentanyl today and stopped breathing. But anyway, I escaped through a window and hid in the Godfrey’s shed. They called the police when Walter came looking for me, and then Jenna’s mom found me and took me back to the house. But the police really hadn’t been too concerned about it all. I’m sure to them I was just another name to add to their long list of badly behaved children. Jenna’s mom stood up for me, though, and refused to leave until they got child protective services involved, and I met your mom that night.”

  “God, Erin,” Luke said painfully. “I had no idea you went through all that.”

  “It’s in the past, and I want to leave it there. But I don’t know what would have happened if Jenna and her parents—and your mom—hadn’t been there for me. Who knows? I might have become just as hateful and twisted as Helen. Or imagine if my father hadn’t been found guilty, and I’d been left to his mercy. After years and years of exposure to drugs and alcohol, and God only knows what else, I could easily have become another Wayne Raabe.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Erin. You could never be like him.”

  “I don’t know, Luke. In that environment, and without anyone who really cared, I might have eventually turned out just like him. The thing is, under the right circumstances any of us can become the person we most despise.”

  Erin reached out and touched his arm. “I also got to see a different side of Jesse in those woods. At one point Wayne threatened to rape me and chop me up into pieces afterward, and Jesse defended me. Later he even explained how to use the gun.”

  Luke ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “Raabe threatened to rape and kill you?”

  “Yes. And when Jesse told him to leave me alone, Wayne said, ‘You’re a good fuck, kid, but right now she’ll be better.’ Those were his exact words.”

  Pure rage contorted Luke’s features. “If he’d touched you…If that bastard had touched you…”

  Erin grimaced. “You would’ve killed him. Which is my point exactly about what we can become.”

  Luke abruptly pulled her against him, burying his face in her hair. “God, it kills me to imagine what you went through in those woods. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

  Erin held him tightly, grateful to be back in his arms again. And then after a while she looked up at him with a playful grin. “Will you forgive me on the grounds of temporary insanity?”

  Luke’s mouth gradually lifted into a crooked smile. “Okay, we can go with temporary insanity. But you also have to promise me that you’ll never act like a lawyer again—or a cop, for that matter. As it is, no one’s ever going to let me forget that you’re the one who caught Wayne Raabe.”

  “Don’t worry,” Erin responded in a rueful tone. “I already made that promise to myself this afternoon. Practicing law is definitely not for me. And your job makes medicine seem like a vacation in paradise.”

  Luke chuckled. “Good, I’m glad you feel that way.” He gazed at her for a moment, and a slow, devilish grin crossed his face. “But there’s one more thing you need to do before I can completely forgive you.”

  Erin tenderly smiled back. “I’m at your mercy, Detective.”

  Luke eased away from her and sat down on the bed. “You need to continue that little striptease you started before. And I think you should dance this time. I’ll even provide the music.” He pulled his cell phone out and searched his music library. “Let’s see what I can come up with…Oh, here we go. This will be perfect.”

  He hit play and Marvin Gaye seductively crooned “Let’s Get It On.”

  Erin half-groaned, half-laughed in response. “Are you serious, Luke?”

  “Oh yes, honey, I’m dead serious.” And in tune with Marvin, he softly sang the words to the song.

  At first Erin just stood there watching him in amusement. And then she reluctantly started her performance. But she didn’t have to dance for long, because as soon as she got warmed up and really put some enthusiasm into the show, it was too much for him to bear.

  And by the next song she was learning all about the wonders of make-up sex.

  Chapter

  21

  The next morning Erin told Jenna about the Marvin Gaye incident that had resulted from her “desperate times, desperate measures” advice, and they couldn’t look at each other without laughing after that. And a few hours later they still hadn’t gotten it together, so church was torture of the sort that Erin had never experienced before. Then the final hymn of the service was “Lord of the Dance,” and neither of them could manage to sing more than a few verses. Fortunately, one of the most enthusiastic singers in the congregation had been right behind them, and her high soprano voice covered up most of their laughter.

  Luke hadn’t come because of work—crime, unfortunately, was another disease that didn’t take a break on Sundays. But Nolan O’Reilly had been there, and he’d watched them in bemusement the whole time. Usually he attended the service with Colin and his family, but they’d gone to visit friends out of town for the day, so he’d decided to join them instead. Erin figured he probably wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “I’m sorry, Nolan. I hope we didn’t embarrass you too much,” she said as they walked into the church lobby after the service. “I think Jenna and I probably had too much coffee this morning.”

  “Perhaps a little too much Irish coffee?” he asked, turning to her with a chuckle. “But no need to apologize, lass. Me thinks God has a sense of humor Himself. And I’m sure He smiles down on those who live with a merry heart.”

  “Mark Twain would say, ‘Humor is mankind’s greatest blessing,’” Jenna added.

  “Indeed it is,” Nolan agreed. “Or I’d have been sent to the funny farm long ago.”

  “And a lot of us would be there with you,” Jenna said.

  Erin grinned at her. “Although if there were cows on the farm, that might have really tipped you over the edge.”

  Jenna laughed softly. “I’m actually fond of cows, believe it or not. They’re adorable creatures in their own way. And I do sometimes wonder if it isn’t actually a blessing itself not to have too many brains in one’s head.”

  “Oh, I know you way too well, Jen,” Erin said. “You
would like being a cow for all of two seconds.”

  “Or maybe just one,” she responded. “The second I stepped in my own manure I’d be begging to get my brains back.”

  Nolan let out a hoot of laughter. “Ye’ll never appreciate the sweet smell of a rose so much as when ye inhale the fresh scent of manure.” And with laughter still in his voice, he said, “But in any case, I would love to continue this conversation over lunch—though perhaps we ought to flush any further talk of manure down the jacks. Would ye care to join me at the Corner Café again? I’d say it would be my treat, but I do believe the treat would be all mine.”

  Jenna’s expression sobered, and she looked at Erin uncertainly.

  “I would love to go.” Erin glanced around at the few remaining parishioners in the church lobby. “Are Greg and Joanne here? Maybe they would want to join us.”

  “Colin and Sophia had dinner with them last night, and they all went to the service afterward,” Nolan told her. “So if ye ladies don’t mind, it’ll just be the three of us this time.”

  “Of course we don’t mind,” Jenna said. “And never discount the power of three. Good things often come in threes. In fact, there’s an Ecclesiastes verse in the Bible that says, ‘A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.’ And the Declaration of Independence specifically names three rights in one of the most well-known sentences of all time: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.’ There were also three wise men from the East who came to see Jesus, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And you’ll find plenty of trios in children’s literature: the three bears who found Goldilocks in their house, the three little pigs, the three little kittens who lost their mittens—”

  “The three blind mice,” Erin interrupted with a grin. “And don’t forget about other famous trios like the Three Musketeers, the Three Stooges, and the Three Amigos.”

  “Some of us Irishmen are especially fond of being three sheets to the wind,” Nolan quipped.

  “Which might result in a three-ring circus,” Erin said.

  Jenna looked around in amusement. “I think we’re also the last three left standing here in the church lobby—along with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, of course.”

  Nolan chuckled. “And me stomach is beggin’ for a good three-course meal, so I think I’ll be off now. I’ll see ye ladies at the café shortly.”

  When Nolan was gone Jenna turned to Erin. “There’s a women’s bathroom here that has several stalls—in fact three of them, now that I think about it—and a window. Do you want to stop there before we leave?”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” Erin reassured her. “We won’t have to run out of the café like our pants are on fire this time—mine in particular.”

  She had a little surprise in store for Jenna, though. Once they were all settled in at the café and had placed their orders, she said, “I need to use the bathroom after all. I’ll be right back.” She smiled when Jenna looked at her as if she was certifiably insane, and added, “I guess it was all that coffee.” Then she eased out of her chair and headed to the bathroom—or more like the small closet with a toilet in it—and was just a little nervous about the endeavor. But ever since she’d used the bathroom that night at the Shamrock with Luke and found out how well the image of him stealing batteries from the smoke alarm had worked to chase away anxiety, she’d been doing the same thing at home. She could already lock herself in the bathroom there. And now she had the melody of “Lord of the Dance” to distract her here—and it worked like a charm.

  She returned to the table, feeling like another weight had just been lifted from her soul. “I’m all good to go,” she said, giving Jenna a grin as she sat down. “And yes, that pun was intended.”

  She joined the conversation they’d been having about the sunroom project that James was working on for them, and found out that Nolan had a keen interest in architecture and construction—of course, there wasn’t much that didn’t pique his interest, other than rocking chairs. But he offered a few suggestions of his own about the design, and also mentioned that he had a “lady friend” who could get Jenna an adjustable bed with side rails at a reasonable price.

  “So what exactly is your definition of ‘lady friend’?” Erin teasingly asked him.

  Nolan’s blue eyes danced with humor. “I’m way too old for it mean what yer young mind is thinkin’, that’s for sure.”

  “Well, I believe a lot of your fellow seniors would disagree with you there.” Erin’s lips curved up into a devilish smile. “In fact, many of them would really disagree with you. STDs among the elderly are spreading like wildfire. Just last month I treated an eighty-five-year old man from a local nursing home for chlamydia. Apparently he was the playboy of the West Wing.”

  Nolan started laughing, and a moment later the waitress brought their food.

  “Oh great, now I have to eat,” Jenna said wryly. “Right after Erin brings up chlamydia. That figures.”

  “Hey, at least I didn’t talk about the woman I saw right after him who’d left a tampon in for two months. Now that would ruin anyone’s appetite.”

  Jenna and Nolan half-laughed, half-groaned, and the waitress’s face twisted into a grimace as she handed them their plates.

  When she left Erin smiled ruefully at her back. “I guess I’d better leave a really good tip.”

  She avoided any further discussion of blood or body fluids after that, and the conversation eventually turned to what had happened to her the day before. She told Nolan about her conversation with Bella, and then about discovering Anne Marie’s grave, and his response unearthed yet another unexpected piece of history.

  “I’ve not heard any stories of a kidnappin’ meself,” he said thoughtfully. “But it would have happened years before I arrived. I was in Dublin attendin’ the university back then, and medical school afterward. It wasn’t until 1976 that me cousin Deaglan and I moved here with our families.”

  “That’s odd,” Jenna said. “My grandfather’s name was Deaglan—Deaglan O’Callaghan—and I think he moved here around the same time.”

  For a moment Nolan stared at her in shock. “Well, I’ll be gobsmacked!” he finally said. “I can’t believe I never made the connection before. Deaglan and his wife Aileen had two daughters, Nora and Shannon. Ye must be Shannon’s daughter.”

  “I am,” Jenna said in bewilderment. “But how is it possible we could be related? I did a lot of research into my family history. There’s no record of your name. And I was just in Ireland visiting distant relatives, and no one mentioned you either.”

  A pained expression crossed Nolan’s face. “That’s because it’s not a subject devout Irish Catholics would wish to discuss, nor a record they would have wanted to keep. Deaglan and I shared the same grandfather, Tadhgan O’Callaghan. He had an affair with me grandma, but kindly forgot to mention that he was already married. He finally admitted it after she found out she was pregnant with me mam, and she cut off all ties with him. It was only years later that I did some research of me own and found out about all this. I tracked Deaglan down and we became fast friends, and eventually moved here together. Deaglan convinced us to come, tellin’ us we’d all find a better life here.”

  “But Deaglan was really trying to escape from the curse,” Erin softly said. “Jenna told me about it.”

  “You’re right indeed. That cursed curse.” Nolan shook his head with a grimace. “Deaglan eventually got sick with the cancer, and someone back home told him it was me grandma who’d put the curse on all the O’Callaghan men. Deaglan believed it, and he was riled somethin’ fierce. He cursed me back, and we never spoke again. Me wife Màire and I offered to help Aileen and the girls after he died, but she would have nothin’ to do with us either. And then Màire died a fe
w years later. Part of me always wondered if there wasn’t somethin’ to those damned curses after all.”

  “The O’Callaghans had Li-Fraumeni syndrome,” Erin told him. “It’s autosomal dominant, and that’s why so many of them developed the disorder. It had nothing to do with a curse—or with men. Jenna has it too.”

  Understanding soon dawned on Nolan’s face, and his blue eyes filled with sorrow. “Ah, Jenna, I’m so sorry. Màire and I still tried to do what we could for yer grandma, but when Màire and the twins died I was too caught up in me own troubles to worry about anyone else’s. And I’ll admit I was a bitter man, and often cursed Deaglan’s soul meself. It ate me up inside for a very long time, wonderin’ how different our lives might have been if we hadn’t come with him, or if I’d never met him at all.” He reached over and squeezed Jenna’s hand. “But we were family. That’s what it all should have boiled down to. And I’m so very sorry we let all those ridiculous notions destroy the most important thing we had.”

  “It’s okay, Nolan. I understand,” Jenna assured him. “And we’re Irish, so we’re prone to ridiculous notions. As they like to say in psychology: ‘This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever.’”

  Nolan threw his head back and laughed. “Indeed so. Ye can always tell an Irishman, but ye can’t tell him much.”

  They went back to eating after that, and there was a momentary pause in the conversation. But Jenna only picked at her food. “I never thought about the possibility that there could be other family members not in the records,” she finally said, looking worriedly at Nolan. “I wanted to make sure anyone who might have Li-Fraumeni Syndrome knew about it. Do you think there could be others?”

  “Ye can rest assured, cousin,” he told her. “I did the research meself. Colin, Sean, and I are the only remainin’ proof of Tadhgan O’Callaghan’s transgressions. All the others appear to have been good Catholics in that respect.”