Being Mary Ro

by Ida Linehan Young

  Both men were only too happy to go back into the den.

  Mary waited until she heard the door close. “How could you, Bridie? I thought you loved and respected me. Now I find that you’ve been trying to control me.”

  “Please wait before you cast judgment,” Bridie said. “I can assure you that I had no ill will toward you. Maybe I did overstep, but it was with your best interests at heart. Do you not see it? You’re in love with Danol.”

  “No, Bridie. I’m in love with Peter Nolan. Your interference may have caused me to lose the man I have loved for as many years as I can remember. Fate has brought him back to me, and I intend to see it through. I do love Danol, but not the way I love Peter.”

  “You’re in love with a figment of your imagination—with the way things were when you were just a child and didn’t know what it really meant to be in love.”

  “Bridie, that’s very hurtful. You’ve no right to judge me,” Mary said. “I’ve no doubt of the sincerity of Peter Nolan when he asked me to marry him, nor for my intent when I said yes in my heart and in those letters. You should’ve respected my decision. My choice. Danol respects it and is helping me to fulfill my dream.”

  “There you go again. Danol is helping you. Danol’s in love with you. Can’t you see that?”

  “No. Danol’s in love with the sea. We’re good friends and nothing more.”

  “I don’t believe that, Mary. You’re lying to yourself if you think that to be true.”

  “My choice, Bridie. My choice.”

  “I have no regrets in what I did,” Bridie said. “You’re very stubborn, Mary. In some matters that’s good, but not in this. You’ll be sorry for going back.”

  “Perhaps I will, Bridie. But then I’ll have no one to blame but myself.” Mary was angry with her sister, but in some ways she knew that some things Bridie said rang true and haunted her—especially when she thought Peter had ignored her letters. Was she in love? Or was she reliving her dream from when she was sixteen? Bridie had played a part in the torment she now faced by not sending the letters, but Mary had doubts of her own exacerbated by that act.

  “Mary, I love you. I regret that I couldn’t have been there with you when Mom and Da died. I couldn’t help you then. I thought I was helping you now,” Bridie said. “I remember you as a little sister, and I forget that you’re grown up. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. But again, I don’t regret having done it.”

  The sisters talked for the next hour. Danol came to say good night later in the evening. He looked from one to the other before telling Bridie and Robert he would see them in September.

  “We’re coming to the boat in the morning to see you off. If that’s all right with you,” Robert said, looking directly at Mary. “I hope you’ll come back and stay with us in September and bring Peter Nolan with you.”

  “Yes. Of course, Robert. You’ve both been so very, very helpful to me.” She reached out and pulled Bridie into a hug. Bridie began to cry again. Mary was certain their relationship would be a little strained for a while, but she would make the first step to mend it. Although she’d forgive Bridie, she wouldn’t soon forget. She hoped Peter would understand.

  Mary walked Danol to the door. “How are you, really?”

  “I’m going to get some sleep. It’s a very big day tomorrow.”

  “That it is.” He hugged Mary, then tipped her head so that she was looking into his eyes. “Everything will work out as you planned. Don’t worry.” Then he was gone.

  Robert and Bridie came to see them off on the noon tide—the fifteenth of May. Robert helped Danol with her trunks. Mary had accrued a lot of clothing while she was in Boston. She had a separate trunk with clothing and goods from her sisters, plus the items she had packed in her own trunk for her family.

  “Stop crying, Bridie. I’ll be back in September. Thank you both so much for all you’ve done for me.” Mary hugged her sister while clasping Robert’s hand.

  “You’re quite welcome, dear sister. You bring that Peter back with you next time. I really mean that.” Bridie exchanged a look with Robert, who nodded and took his wife’s hand.

  They exchanged goodbyes as Mary got swallowed up in the busyness of the first logged trip of the Angel Endeavours. She put the sign of the Cross on the boat as she made her way on board and prayed that Mom and Da would watch over their journey and see them to safe waters a world away—home.

  21

  Once the Angel Endeavours docked at the wharf in St. John’s, Mary waited patiently for the gangway to lower. By the way her heart was racing and her stomach churned, she figured the anticipation was going to kill her. Her mission was to find the hospital or harbourmaster, as Peter had told her the year before. Had it been a year? Almost! She couldn’t believe how things had changed.

  Not sparing time to look at the city on the hill, she raced along the wharf to the building Danol pointed out. She stepped into the rough wooden shack and asked the lone man there if he was the harbourmaster. He nodded and looked her up and down.

  “I’m looking for Dr. Peter Nolan. He said you’d know where he was.”

  “Yes, lassie,” he replied in a heavy Irish accent. “I know where he is. I can send one of the boys to fetch him.”

  “That would be most helpful,” Mary replied. “I’ll be on the Angel Endeavours when he gets here.” She pointed to the wooden schooner tied midway on the fourth wharf on the quay.

  The harbourmaster stood and towered over her, intimidating in the small shack. Mary backed out to give him room. He shouted to get the attention of one of the young lads who was sitting on the barrels playing marbles. “Harvey, go fetch Doc Peter. Tell him a red-haired lass is here to see him.” He flicked the boy a coin, and he scurried off.

  Mary wandered down the expanse of the man-made seafront looking at the other vessels, some large and some no bigger than dories. When she made it to the gangway of the Angel Endeavours, Danol was there to meet her. He had watched her every move from the time she left the boat.

  “I’ll wait with you if you want.”

  “’I’d like that,” Mary said. She was taking a leap of faith that Peter still wanted her after all this time. Her life had changed so much since she’d seen him last. She was nervous. Her mouth was dry, her palms were sweating, and her heart was racing.

  “That man waited for you for nine years. He could wait for you over the winter,” Danol teased, then suddenly realized he had said more than he had a right to say.

  “What do you mean he waited for over nine years?”

  “That’s between you and Peter. Besides, if he didn’t, I’ll smash his face and we’ll leave.”

  “Danol, please don’t kid like that. Just because you own this vessel now doesn’t mean you can do what you want on it. Besides,” she added, “I would probably have to treat him, and we’d be no further ahead.”

  Danol took her arm to steady her nerves. They stood together on the deck eyeing the crowd and waiting for Peter.

  Peter couldn’t believe it. She was here at last. He rushed from the General Hospital, carried by the promise that his life had come full circle to where it should have started almost ten years prior, finally culminating at the feet of Mary Rourke. There he would beg for forgiveness and once more ask her to marry him.

  Then he saw Mary on the boat and stopped abruptly. How could it be possible? She was more beautiful than he remembered. But his heart sank when he saw her arm in arm with Danol Cooper.

  “No! No! No!” he whispered in despair. He had waited so long for this, planning to return to John’s Pond in the summer, regardless of whether she came for him or not. He hadn’t written to her explaining his circumstance. He couldn’t bear to, for fear that she wouldn’t understand what he had done.

  He had no plans to rebuild in the city. The city would remind him of what he had lost. Gazing toward the harbour, he now feared th
ere would be no home for him.

  He was too late for Mary—she belonged to somebody else. Defeated, he turned to leave. His heart was unable to process the exorbitant grief that shrouded him in that single glimpse of his beautiful Mary with another man. He now understood how she must have felt all those years ago.

  “There he is!” Mary pointed, shouting excitedly. They both waved, thinking he hadn’t see them because he was turning to leave.

  “Peter! Peter Nolan! Over here!” Mary called out, waving her two arms. Everyone on the wharf seemed to turn in her direction. She didn’t care.

  “Peter! Peter!” He was as she remembered him—tall, dark-haired, and so handsome. Her Peter. Maybe it would happen after all.

  Peter hesitated, composed himself, and stopped at the gangway. “Permission to come aboard?”

  Danol shouted, “Of course! Welcome aboard.”

  Peter cautiously climbed the gangway, and Mary matched him step for step until they met face to face when he stepped on the deck.

  “Peter.”

  “Mary.”

  There was a long pause as they both eyed each other—one hopeful, one tentative and sad.

  “I’m here, too. Hello, Peter,” Danol said, extending his hand to shake Peter’s.

  “Hello, Danol. I see you have a new occupation.” He hesitantly returned the handshake.

  “I have indeed. And it’s all thanks to Mary,” he said. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll be below if you need me, Mary.”

  Danol left, and Peter addressed Mary. “You two look happy.”

  “Yes, we’re very happy. I’ve so much to tell you,” she replied softly. Mary could feel the heat rise in her cheeks as she blushed. Her mind wasn’t working.

  “There’s nothing to explain. You’ve made your choice. I just don’t understand why you sent for me.”

  “Peter, you asked me to come back in the spring. I know it is a little past spring, but here I am. I don’t understand why you sound . . . so distant.” Mary’s hopes for her future with this man began to fade, and her worst fears crept in. Her heart would never recover from this.

  “I’m . . . I’m happy that you’re happy. If it’s not with me, then I’m still happy for you.”

  “If it’s not with you . . . . Oh God, Peter, you think Danol and I are—no! You’ve got it all wrong. We’re partners, that’s all.” She had a chance.

  “Partners? What kind of partners?” he asked, still a little upset and confused at the situation.

  “Come sit on the rail, and I’ll tell you.” She took his hand and guided him to the gunwale of the boat, and they sat. She kept his hand in hers. “But first, please tell me that your son has survived.”

  “He has, but I have so much more to say. I—”

  “Don’t rush.” Mary took a deep breath—she would start. “After you left, I realized I wanted to go with you, but you were already on a boat halfway out the bay. Danol came to me a few hours later and made me a fateful offer.” Peter tried to withdraw his hand, but she held on tightly.

  “Let me finish. Please!” She explained the situation with the boat, college, and finally the unmailed letters. He just stared at her while she talked.

  “I still don’t understand. I’m happy that you went to college to be a doctor. It makes me so proud because you have the proper instincts for it. But why’d you come back here?” Peter asked, still unsure where this conversation was going.

  “Well, you asked me to marry you, and how can I do that if I’m somewhere else? Is your offer still open?” she asked honestly and innocently, hoping the answer was yes as she gazed at the man she loved.

  It took a few seconds for what she was saying to register with Peter.

  “Open. Of course it’s open! It’s been open for nigh on ten years.” Peter picked her up off the gunwale and swung her around before planting her feet on the deck and kissing her soundly on the lips. Mary threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He must have confiscated all the air around her. Her breath and her heart caught in her throat at the same time. Her legs weakened as her body responded the way it had when she was a teenager and he’d first kissed her. She loved this man.

  He released her. “Mary, I thought you’d gone and married Danol.” His smile was bigger than his face.

  “Danol, why would I marry Danol? He’s my friend. You’re the man for me.”

  “Hi, Peter!” Meg shouted from behind her.

  “This is another reason why we’re late getting here,” Mary explained. “We had to stop for Meg and Richard. Before he left John’s Pond last summer, Meg had made Danol promise to come and get her in hopes she and Richard could be married on this boat.”

  Meg almost curtsied before Peter. Richard came forward and shook his hand as well.

  “It’s good to see you both,” Peter told them. They chatted, or mostly Meg chattered, before Peter asked if he could speak to Mary alone. Meg and Richard went below deck with Danol. The rest of the crew were nowhere to be seen.

  Peter took her hand and led her starboard so that they wouldn’t be interrupted. Mary was worried and asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “I’ve something to tell you, Mary. I should’ve told you a long time ago, and although I regret that I didn’t talk about it, I can’t regret my actions.”

  Mary was silent as he guided her to the wheelhouse and they sat. A knot was forming in her stomach.

  “When I went to sea, I thought of you every day. I thought of our future together and the children we’d have. I thought we’d grow old together and live in John’s Pond or wherever you wanted. I’d build you a big home. We’d be so happy. Then things changed.”

  “What are you saying, Peter? Will my heart be broken again?” she asked, her eyes welling with tears.

  He placed his hands over hers and squeezed, shaking his head. “Hush now, Mary! Let me finish while I have the nerve. I’m trying to make peace with my past, with our past. I never meant to break your heart. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, and I swore that day, someday, I’d make it up to you.”

  He told her how he had gone to St. John’s, then on to New York, and how both he and Ed finally ended up working on the SS Frisia, a passenger liner between America and Europe. By that point, Peter was the ship’s doctor and Martha Walker worked there as a nurse.

  He went on to explain how Martha had been in love with Ed from the moment she met him and in love with the tales of the land far away from the big city. She had no family and counted on her and Ed being married when they eventually came to Newfoundland. On their second voyage, after arriving in Liverpool, England, Martha took Ed on a tour of her native city. Ed was attacked and stabbed on the docks by a member of the High Rip Gang. Martha was able to get him to the hospital. But their ship departed the next day, and by the time they got back the following week, Ed was dead. Martha had him buried next to her parents in a small town outside of Liverpool.

  Mary laid her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry about Ed. I know how close you two were.”

  “Before I left England, Ed made me swear that I would look after Martha and bring her to Newfoundland if something happened to him. I’d planned to set her up at the hospital in St. John’s, and she would be on her own after that.” He lowered his head before finishing. “On the way back to New York, I decided that life was too short to wait to return to you. I was going to apply to the General Hospital to get on staff as a resident doctor. I wanted to have something to offer your parents as an assurance that I could look after you when I asked for your hand in marriage.”

  “I don’t understand, Peter. What changed?”

  “Martha told me she was having Ed’s baby. She had told Ed before he died. She had no family and would be disgraced as a nurse. She’d have been left destitute raising a baby. I couldn’t see the last piece of Ed being lost, so I did what needed to be done—I tol
d Martha that I’d marry her and bring her home to Newfoundland. I’d made a promise to my brother that I couldn’t go back on.”

  He looked at Mary with a deep sadness in his eyes. “My biggest regret in all of this was you, Mary. I hurt you, and that hurt me more than you can know.”

  She was about to say something—she didn’t exactly know what—when Peter held up his hand and asked her to let him finish.

  He gazed out to sea. She guessed he was struggling for words, so she sat there holding his hand and waited, hoping she could give him strength to finish his tale. Over the next several minutes, he slowly relayed what happened after leaving John’s Pond. He said he had brought Martha to St. John’s and married her in name only, in a little ceremony witnessed by strangers. She had been a good homemaker and a good mother to little Eddy once he came along. The baby looked like his namesake and father, with brown eyes and brown hair, and was as much like Peter as he was like Ed.

  He came to love Martha like a sister, but she never got over losing Ed. She became fragile after giving birth. Peter suspected that he reminded her of Ed and what she’d lost. He couldn’t love her like Ed must have loved her, because Mary was on his mind and in his heart.

  “Nobody could replace you.” He squeezed her hand again before continuing.

  “I hired a housekeeper, Mrs. Mallard, who lived with us and looked after our boy. She was a kind older widow who didn’t question why a man and his wife had two separate rooms nor why my wife had been so distant and remote—even sometimes with her own son. I tried to lift Martha’s spirits, but she remained sickly and died more than a year ago when a terrible flu hit St. John’s. I thought that she’d fight it, but I also don’t think she really wanted to. In essence, she gave up.”

  He lowered his head and stared into the little waves lapping on the side of the boat. The silence was broken by Mary’s sobs.

  “I swear, Mary, I did my best for her,” he said. “Little Eddy was left an orphan. Both his mother and father were gone. I love Eddy. He’s my flesh and blood. Nobody would ever question his parenthood.