by Kristie Cook
“Come swim with us, Al!” Nicole yelled over her shoulder as she ran.
I shook my head with a smile. “I’m good,” I called out before reopening my book.
A few minutes later, I heard a quiet thud as Ethan dropped down to his knees on the blanket by my feet. He dug around the cooler and pulled out a soda.
“Aren’t you having fun?” he asked breathlessly between gulps.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” I replied, gesturing to the umbrella and my book.
“Yeah? Whatcha reading?”
I felt a blush rise on my cheeks as I held the book out for him to see. I was reading Gone With The Wind. Again.
Ethan started laughing, nearly choking on his soda. “I imagined you up here reading The Guide to Modern Physics. I would’ve never guessed you were reading a romance novel!” He stretched himself out on the blanket and closed his eyes to the sun, his lips curved up in that mocking little smile. His dark hair was slicked back with water, and he was perfectly tanned. I couldn’t help noticing that his lashes were a thick, dark fringe. I forced myself to look away.
When I glanced back at him—I couldn’t help it—Rachel had snuck onto the blanket and gestured to me with her finger to her lips. She flopped down onto her stomach and began running a piece of ice that had fallen out of the cooler along Ethan’s chest, causing him to shout in surprise.
“You’re going down!” he yelled before hauling Rachel up over his shoulder and running down to toss her, squealing, into the ocean.
I looked down to the water, wondering how Sean felt about Rachel’s not-so-subtle display. They had one of those on-again-off-again relationships. They were all friends, but her flirting with Ethan must have bothered him. If I wanted to be honest, it even bothered me.
I pushed all of Nicole’s friends out of my thoughts and tried to enjoy the rest of the day. When it was time to leave, I walked up the old wooden steps to the parking lot with my arms full of beach gear. The others were lagging behind, but I could still hear the sounds of their laughter and teasing.
“If you’re going with Jeff, I am too,” I heard Rachel say to Nicole in her whiny voice.
“Sweet! Shotgun in Al’s car,” Ethan yelled. A smile crept onto my face—Rachel would be disappointed that she wouldn’t get to cozy up next to him in the backseat. Good thing no one could see my face.
“Damn, man, I was just going to say that!” Sean said, a thump following. I could only imagine from Ethan’s grunt that Sean had whacked him upside the head. I laughed to myself that both guys were so desperate to stay away from Rachel.
I opened the hatch and started loading it when Ethan gently pushed me aside. “I got this,” he said, winking at me as he hefted the cooler in.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to break a nail,” I muttered, placing my bag in the back.
Ethan just laughed and shook his head.
“Meet us at Nic’s!” Jeff shouted out his window before tearing out of the parking lot.
I started the car as Ethan and Sean piled in. As usual, Sean reached up front and ruffled my hair before settling in his seat. He grew up in the house on the other side of Nicole’s, and he’d always been nice to me, even if his sometimes-girlfriend was a jerk.
“You coming over tonight?” Ethan asked as he flipped through the CD’s in my case.
“Me?” I tried to swallow down the butterflies. “Are you kidding? My bed is already calling my name,” I replied, trying to keep an aloof tone.
Ethan shook his head and smirked, no doubt trying not to laugh at me. “We’re just going to be watching a movie.”
“Didn’t your mother teach you not to beg, dude?” Sean asked, teasing. “You probably have a hot date, right Allie-O?” He shook my shoulder lightly. I smiled at the old nickname from the days when we used to play hide-and-seek in our neighborhood.
“Yeah, a hot date with Rhett Butler,” Ethan said. I kept my eyes on the road, but I couldn’t help the smile that played on my lips.
“Poor Ethan,” Sean said. “I think Rachel wants to snuggle with you tonight, pal.” He was laughing, but there was an edge to his voice. The idea of Rachel and Ethan together made my chest squeeze, too.
Ethan chuckled. “No, thanks. Rachel is all yours. She’s not my type.”
“Since when do you have a type?” Sean asked, the tension lifting.
“I’m twenty-three years old, man. Time to start thinking of the future.”
I nearly snorted soda out of my nose . . . until he slung his arm around the back of my chair. Then it was all I could do to keep the car on the road.
He had to know the way he affected me, how he got under my skin. Four years ago, in one of my weaker moments, I’d fallen for his charm. I couldn’t let that happen again. But the memory of that kiss still left me breathless.
I pulled my car into the driveway, thanking the universe for getting me through the trip without too much drama.
The guys grabbed the umbrella and cooler and headed for the house. I shut the trunk and was about to scoop my bag and chair up when a raucous of caws and screeches broke out in the woods.
Startled, I grabbed my things and hurried toward the porch. I watched the tree line as I went, where a handful of large crows were swooping up and down in the yard, knocking leaves and small branches all over the place.
I had almost reached the porch steps when I walked straight into Ethan, who was squinting at the scene the birds were making, too. I stumbled back, nearly falling, and he grabbed my elbow to steady me, sending electricity shooting through my body.
I yanked my arm back as though he’d burned me. He held his hands up, palms facing forward.
“Easy. You all right?” He laughed, and I felt my cheeks flare.
I pushed past him, embarrassed that I’d practically fallen over backward and annoyed that he had laughed at me.
“Hey! Allie . . . ”
I stopped with my hand on the screen door. I didn’t know why I was overreacting like this—it wasn’t the first time he joked around with me—and it made me even more flustered. I heard his footsteps as he climbed onto the porch behind me and tried to keep my cool. My hand dropped from the door, and I turned around.
Ethan looked at me, his warm brown eyes searching mine. “Don’t be mad.”
I took a deep breath and looked away. “I’m not mad,” I said. “I was just sort of freaked out by the birds.” I looked at the spot they’d been tearing up just seconds ago. They were nowhere to be found.
He opened his mouth to speak just as Sean appeared at the screen door. I stood aside to let him out and internally thanked him for saving me from another self-induced awkward moment.
“You sure you can’t come over tonight?” Ethan asked, his usual wry expression back in place.
Sean just snorted and gave my shoulder a squeeze as he walked by. “Later, Allie-O.”
I shook my head at Ethan. “I’m sure, but thanks for the help carrying the beach stuff inside.”
He grinned and nodded. “Well, have fun with Rhett then.” He followed Sean toward Nicole’s house.
“Did you have a good time today, honey?” Gram said as she pushed the door open and held it for me.
Tearing my gaze away from Ethan, I made myself smile. “Yeah, it was okay.”
***
I brought the bag up to my room and then headed back out to my car. Once I confirmed that there was nobody around, I made my way to the spot where the birds had been. I expected to see a raccoon or opossum lying dead in the woods, but other than scattered leaves and twigs, there was no sign that the birds had even been there. The entire backyard was clear, not even a squirrel in sight.
I walked all the way around the perimeter of the yard until I was satisfied that I was just worrying over nothing. Of course nothing was out here. I rubbed my hands over my face. I couldn’t help wondering if this was how it had started for my mother—paranoid over every little sound, every strange happening.
I walked past the fence to Nicole
’s yard and froze when I heard a hushed conversation on the other side.
“Obviously he wants to get with Allison because she’s like, no-man’s land. Once he gets in her pants, he’ll lose interest.” Rachel said my name like it was acid on her tongue.
“Give me a break, Rach,” Nicole replied. I could just imagine her dramatic eye roll.
“What? Isn’t she still, like, a virgin or something?” Rachel said, snickering. “She’s probably a lesbian anyway.”
“I think you need to back off my cousin.” Nicole’s voice hardened. “Got it?”
When I realized what I was doing, I hurried inside. I did not need to hear any more of that conversation. Time to take a quick shower and read for awhile. That would sort me out.
My mother was perched in her usual spot on the couch as I entered the living room, with Gram and Pop in their seats. The television was on, but when I glanced at my mother, I noticed she wasn’t watching it. She was looking out the window. Her expression was blank, but there was a tear trickling down her cheek.
***
My mother walks through an endless stretch of green forest. There is a man by her side, with big, blue eyes and wavy, caramel hair. She beams up at him. His hand gently rests on her back, steadying her as she steps over fallen branches and stones. His eyes are constantly moving, restless.
Black birds surround them. One swoops down at my mother, and its red eyes glare at her as it drags its talons across her chest. As quickly as it came, it flies off with the rest, leaving her shirt torn and streaked with blood. The man’s eyes are wild, searching the forest. He's yelling words I don’t understand as he pulls my mother toward him.
I jolted awake, my pajamas soaked in sweat, my breaths coming fast. But it was just another dream. Yet, muffled sobs came from my mother’s bedroom across the hall. I climbed out of my bed and hurried to my mother’s room.
Her bed was empty, and my chest seized. But when I spun around I saw her in her window seat, staring out at the woods. Relief flooded through me.
“Mom,” I whispered, but she didn’t move. “Mom, please look at me,” I tried again, sitting down on the seat beside her. She turned to face me then. Tears lined her cheeks like silver rivers down her moonlit face.
“Allison,” she murmured. I shivered at the clarity in her voice. I hadn’t heard her say my name since I was six years old.
“It’s okay, Mom.” I wiped her tears away with a tissue from the nightstand. Her eyes shone brighter than I’d ever seen them, and they burned holes into mine.
“You look...so much like him.” She didn’t have to say who she meant. I knew she was thinking about my father.
“I’m sorry if that hurts you,” I said, trying to hang onto the moment of lucidity.
“No,” she whispered, staring back into my eyes. “Your father was beautiful, just like you.”
“Did he hurt you?” I immediately regretted my words—I knew how easy it was to push her over the edge.
My mother shuddered, and just like that, she was gone. Her eyes glazed over, completely void of recognition. She turned her head slowly and stared back out at the woods.
Chapter 3
Sunday morning, I sat at the kitchen table after my run, picking through the newspaper that Pop had already dissected. My mother sat across from me, threading and unthreading her fingers. I picked up my coffee cup and grimaced when I took a sip to find it unexpectedly cold. I walked over to get a warm-up and the doorbell rang.
I glanced around, Gram was out in the garden, and Pop had taken a ride down to the hardware store to do paperwork. I set the coffee pot aside to answer the door. A young man stood on the other side, looking off into the woods. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him before, but there was something familiar about him.
“Hello. I’m looking for Beth O’Malley, please,” he said with a heavy Irish accent.
“Beth?” Nobody ever came over asking for Beth O’Malley. Then his eyes met mine.
Just like in a movie, when the camera zooms into someone’s face and everything else ceases to exist for that moment, my world stopped.
Because I had seen those eyes before.
They had gazed affectionately at my mother in my dreams.
His light golden-brown hair was short, but I could tell that if he grew it out a few inches, it would be wavy just like mine. He looked exactly like the photos I had in my room.
“She can’t come to the door.” The words tumbled out, my heart thrumming in my chest like a thousand butterfly wings. “I’m her daughter, Allison. Can I help you with something?”
“Oh, I see.” His brow furrowed, like he didn’t actually understand at all. “No. Thank you, Allison. Good day.” He turned toward the stairs.
“Wait!” I shouted. “Liam?”
He cleared his throat, froze, and spoke over his shoulder. “Yes. Has she told you about me then?”
“Not really, no.”
It was true. I only ever heard his name during her episodes. When I was little, she would sit in her room sometimes holding a piece of paper in her hands and cry. One day I snuck into her bedroom while she was playing her violin and stole the paper—what turned out to be pictures of her and Liam. I thought that if I took away the thing that made her cry, she would be happy with just me.
I shook my head. “She mentioned the name to my grandmother, after she came back from Ireland.”
“Right.” He turned back to face me again. “Do you suppose I might be able to speak with your mother later?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You haven’t spoken to her in the past twenty-two years, obviously.”
“I beg your pardon?” Liam cleared his throat again.
“I said it’s obvious you haven’t talked to my mother since she came back from Ireland twenty-two years ago.”
“Please, you must understand—”
“Oh, I think I understand perfectly. You knocked my mother up and sent her back to the US, and now . . . what? You’re in the neighborhood so you thought you’d drop by to say hello?”
“I don’t know what you’ve been told. But”—he paused, swallowing hard—“I assure you, I knew nothing of a child.”
I stepped out onto the porch, quietly shutting the door behind me. I tried to keep my expression calm and indifferent.
I noticed his jaw muscles clenching. Something else we had in common, I guess.
“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered as he passed a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know you existed, yet... here you are.”
“Here I am,” I laughed, without humor. “I guess you’re wondering why I won’t let you see my mother?”
“I suppose I am. But I might have a bit of an idea,” he said. His blue eyes looked sad and far older than I’d originally thought.
“You think so?” I snapped. “And why might that be?”
“Oh, Allison. I daresay I know far more than I wish to.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair again.
“So, you know that my mother is crazy? That she can’t even leave the house without being sedated? Do you know that most days she doesn’t say more than ten words? And on those off days, she rants and screams your name?” I took a deep breath, my chest heaving with emotion. I had been going for cool and indifferent, but, his innocent act set me off. I couldn’t even look at him. “Is that what you wish you didn’t know?”
“Won’t you let me see her?” he pleaded, his fingers still laced in his hair. “I have loved your mother all these years. I know this is my fault, believe me. There was nothing I could do, but I would have done anything...” His voice trailed off, and there was a faraway look in his eyes.
I was at a complete loss. How could he just show up twenty-two years after tearing my mother’s heart apart? How could he stand here, claiming to love her in one breath, and yet say he was helpless to do anything about it in the next?
“Let me guess—you were married, with a kid or two already. I bet the American student and her illegitimate b
aby didn’t fit well in the family portrait, right?” My hands clenched into fists.
Liam laughed then, but it was a cold, terrible laugh. His face clouded over, and for a moment I regretted speaking to him so harshly. I didn’t know this guy. I had no idea what he was capable of.
For what must have been the longest two minutes of my life, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at me, just stared off into space. His eyes were hard and shiny, like marbles, glistening with unshed tears.
“No, I was never married,” he finally answered. “I wish it were so simple.”
He looked directly into my eyes then, and for a moment I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Questions tumbled through my mind, but there were so many that I had no way of knowing where to begin. I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but he spoke first.
“I will find a way to undo what has been done, or I will die trying.” He took two steps back. “I understand your anger. You’re completely justified. But know this—you will see me again.” He nodded curtly and strode down the front walk. Just like that.
***
I didn’t have to work on Sunday, but I almost wished I had, if only for the distraction. The sky was bright blue as I stepped back out onto the front porch, and I could hear the chords from “Drowsy Maggie” floating out from the den. My mother hadn’t played such a peppy tune on her violin in years. I sat on the top step with an ice-cold glass of lemonade, tapping my foot to the melody. Uncle David had mowed that morning, too, so the smell of freshly cut grass added to the illusion of a perfect summer day. Puffy clouds moved swiftly through the sky, matching the speed of the thoughts passing through my mind.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell Gram and Pop about Liam showing up. Every time I considered it, I pictured Liam’s face—he was so . . . young. Something about him didn’t sit right. It wasn’t just that he spoke in riddles. It was that his face hadn’t changed a bit from the photo strips my mom clung to when I just was five years old.
No. I did the right thing, I encouraged myself. They had enough to deal with, and something told me I should keep his arrival to myself.
I took a sip of my lemonade and looked around the yard. There were no signs of the fighting black birds, at least. It was actually a peaceful day. It was warm but not as hot as it had been the past week. I stretched my legs out and leaned back on my hands, letting the sun warm my face.