Home is a Long Time Ago

by William F Lee

  Anna stands next to him, leans over and whispers, "Prove it," and nudges him on the shoulder with her elbow then realizes what she said and adds, "To me, of course. And to think, tomorrow is our wedding day."

  "I just about forgot what with all this excitement. Then it's off to Rome for our honeymoon. Do you think I should see the Pope and tell him of my prayers and how they were answered?"

  "If he needs to know, God will tell him. He doesn't need an ole' conniving fool like you to be wasting his time. Besides, you will need to be pleasing me. It will be especially nice in my homeland."

  "As you wish, Anna. As you wish." They link hands and wait.

  While waiting for the Wanderer to come in, the crowd expands. Colt's girlfriend and her parents join the group; several other fishing boat captains have drifted over to the crowd and two of Holli's neighbors; and young Seaman Sipes is up front. He's been chosen to represent the Coast Guard and to issue a formal invitation to Sean to join them at a regular meeting in September.

  The group comes alive when they hear the Wanderer's fog horn blaring, its sound is as crisp and clear as the night air has become. The boat is clearly visible as she turns from the channel and heads to the dock, wake be-damned. She's well lit besides her running lights, so all can clearly see Sean, Holli as the crowd knows her, and Colt standing on the bridge. The three wave, and Sean gives the horn one more blast before he turns the boat into his slip bow first, towing the Sneak Box and the Wanderer's life raft behind. Robert and Pete leap to the Wanderer's side and tie the boat off when Colt throws them the lines. Colt, Robert and Pete are the first with the bear hugs. Sean and Grace hurry from the bridge and come ashore. They wave to Colt to join them and he does.

  Facing the group, Sean says in a warm yet strongly authoritative tone, "We thank all of you for being concerned and for coming down here so late in the evening. We're sorry for disrupting your day and as it turns out most of your evening. And for any problems we've caused, we apologize. All three of us thank the patrolmen and the Coast Guardsmen for their concern, quick response and assistance. Thank you very much, guys." Sean nods to each of them, as does Colt. Grace blows them a kiss. Then Sean continues. "To the rest of you, thank you for caring and being here. All is well, just not sorted out yet. The first thing the three of us are going to do is personally thank you; then we're getting back on board and have a good meal. We're hungry and tired."

  With that Sean goes directly to the two patrolmen and shakes their hands. Says a few words to them, then moves to Seaman Sipes. Shakes his hand and gives the young man a quiet, "Ouh rah!" Sipes reciprocates and then delivers his invitation which Sean accepts. The young man steps back, salutes, and moves toward Grace and Colt. Colt's girlfriend and her parents are standing alongside Colt and his mom. Sean mingles with the group, thanks people individually, and after several minutes moves to the stern of the Wanderer, and waits.

  Pete, Sean, and Robert, along with a scurrying Seaman Sipes pull the Sneak Box to an empty slip and tie her off. Then they load the Wanderer's lift raft aboard and lash it down. When finished all go ashore except Sean who remains on board.

  Grace, seeing Sean standing at the stern, moves closer to Colt, whispers, "Let's say our last thanks and get back aboard. The three of us have a lot to talk about."

  "Yeah, Mom. And I'm hungry."

  "Well, I would have never guessed."

  We've no less days to sing God's praise

  then when we've first begun

  J. Newton

  CHAPTER 39

  Sean, Grace and Colt are on the fly bridge as Sean eases the Wanderer from its slip and out into the channel. Grace and Colt bracket Sean as he asks, "Up bay or down bay?"

  Grace says, "Up. Near our house. For a couple of reasons."

  Colt, puzzled, asks, "What reasons?"

  "Well, for one, I want to see how many lights I left on this morning. The other, well, suffice to say that I've heard there is a good swimming hole close by."

  Sean shudders slightly, grins and says, "Yeah, think Chuck Barto told me about it. We'll have to try it sometime. Colt you aware of this?" Grace nudges Sean with her elbow.

  "Nope. Most kids just swim off the docks or off the sand bars."

  "Well, we're about there and I can see the house. It's lighted up like a Christmas tree. You two leave in a hurry this morning?"

  Grace nudges him again. Colt flushes a bit. Sean says, "Okay, just trying to keep it light." After several more minutes, Sean eases back the throttles to idle and says, "We're here. Colt, how about dropping the anchor for me then meeting me in the galley and we'll start dinner for your mom."

  "Yes, sir." He starts to take a step, stops, says, "I mean, okay, Dad." Smiles, "It's gonna take me a while."

  "Take all the time you want, but not with the anchor."

  "Nor the dinner," adds Grace.

  * * *

  Sean and Colt make it easy on themselves preparing only steaks and a Caesar Salad for dinner, along with a mellow Chianti and an iced tea for Colt. Grace sits at the table on the salon deck while the two busy themselves with the meal. Grace and Colt nibble at the salad while Sean finishes the steaks on the charcoal burner attached to the rail. When done, he serves the steaks and all three eat hungrily. Colt devours his steak and the extra one Sean had prepared. Grace says, "Sometimes I think he's got a tape worm."

  Sean laughs, says, "I remember the time my mother thought I had one. Made me sit with my head over a pot of hot steaming milk with my mouth open. She sat next to me with a pair of scissors. The object was to lure the tape worm out with the smell of the steaming hot milk, then cut its head off when it appeared. Old wives’ tale I think."

  Colt frowns, "Really? Yuk. Did it . . ." he stops realizing Sean and his mom are about to burst out in laughter. "Aw, you're kiddin'"

  "Well, not about what my mother did. She believed the tale. Some old Irish wives’ tale. Ask your mom about it. She's Irish to the bone."

  "Mom?"

  Grace has settled after her laughing spell. "It is an old wives’ tale. But, that's all it is. Doesn't work. And, since Sean brought up the bit of me being Irish I might as well tell you . . . not only am I Irish to the bone, but my maiden name is O'Riley. Grace Holli O'Riley. I forgot to mention that when I told you my story last night."

  Colt frowns again. "Well, Mom, what the devil is my real name anyway?"

  "For now, it's Callahan since that's the way I had it recorded. I'll change it to O'Riley if you like."

  Colt leans both elbows on the table and cups his face in his hands, grins slightly, says, "What about Gallagher?"

  Rather than unfurling majestically, the curtain of silence drops on the table like a sheet of summer rain. Grace's and Sean's mouths gape open as they look at one another, then back to Colt who remains with his chin between his hands, smiling, more broadly now that he has seen the reaction.

  Both Grace and Sean try to speak at the same time resulting in a stammering mesh of words sounding like code gibberish. Grace finally blurts out, "Well, we would have to get married for that to happen and--"

  Colt, not changing position asks, "Well?"

  "Well, we haven't . . . I don't think this is . . . there is a lot to talk about. To do."

  Sean interrupts, "Colt, that's actually a fair question. But, the answer is between your mother and me. And that has to be discussed, or worked out, or whatever. It takes time."

  "You've known each other for about nineteen years. How much time does it take?" He rocks back in his chair, it resting on his two back legs. He's now laughing at his own humor and the expressions on the faces of his mom and dad. Then he rocks forward and says, "I know. I'm just kidding. But, it's a helleva idea and we might as well, we're family already."

  Grace says half-seriously, "Don't cuss, particularly in front of me."

  "Mom, helleva is not a cuss word. Not in today's world. Now, if you want to hear--"

  "I don't want to hear. Anyway, I know them all, and probably more. After all, I'm
Irish to the bone," and she laughs. "Look, this is fun. And it's also serious, I know. But how 'bout you let Sean and me settle this matter in our own time and I promise, you'll be the first to know. Fair enough?"

  Colt stands, moves to the rail and leans against it. "Well, Mom. Dad." He grins with a sparkle in his Gallagher blue eyes. "You know, I've got a stake in this. I mean it's a matter of your real estate business and all those condos you own. Then there's this boat, and the restaurant." His face is carrying a mockingly serious expression as is his tone.

  Before Colt can move a muscle or bat an eye, and quicker than a leopard leaps on its prey, Sean is out of his chair, sweeps Colt up in his arms, and dumps him over the side and into the bay. Grace screams in a mixed tone of horror , shock, and delight. Sean quickly peers over the side, then vaults over and in the bay with Colt. The two thrash around in mock battle, laughing while Grace pushes out of her chair and comes to the rail. Leaning over she sees the two of them acting like teenagers, or, per chance, like father and son. Sean and Colt look up and laugh, then start swimming to the aft end. Grace hollers from the rail, "I love you two," and jumps from the boat, skirt bellowing, into the bay.

  When Grace surfaces, she swims the few strokes to Sean and Colt. "How's that for being a wild, Irish woman?"

  "Great, Mom. But not in a skirt in front of your son. Or your date."

  All three laugh, hug while treading water, then swim to the aft end and climb aboard and stand drenched and laughing.

  Grace says, "I guess Chuck Barto will be getting some more calls." Sean and Grace laugh.

  Colt frowns again, "Is there something goin' on that I don't know?"

  Sean says, "Probably. And just as well you don't, and that fact will influence my future plans. Now what say we go topside, dry off and have a brandy or a cocoa, or something?"

  Colt says, "I'll have a brandy. And I have some other clothes on board. What about you, Mom. What do you intend to wear?"

  Sean tilts his head to the side, says, "Yeah?"

  Grace looks at both, eyes twinkling, and she raises her chin slightly, "Well, laddies, you be thinkin' of that whilst you pour your brandies to warm your souls, and this Irish lass will decide twix her birthday suit and what's about the boat," and she spins about lifting her skirt slightly with both hands and strides inside.

  Sean and Colt look at one another, laugh, and Sean yells, "Use the master suite. There're clothes in the closet."

  Colt turns serious, "Whose clothes?"

  "Just mine. Don't worry." Again both laugh.

  * * *

  Sean and Colt are first dressed and back in the main deck lounge. Sean pours three Apricot Brandies, and he and Colt sit. Sean on the couch, Colt in a chair facing him. After several minutes, Grace comes out from the master suite head wearing a long sleeve dress shirt of Sean's; shirt tails knotted in front and sleeves half rolled up. Underneath is Sean's ratty Marine Corps T-shirt. The trousers are Sean's as well, and she's used a tie to cinch them around her waist. She looks like something from the Wizard of Oz. No make-up but she has blown dry her hair.

  Colt says, "Wow, Mom. Lookin' sexy."

  "Yeah, right." She looks at Sean and adds, "And don't you say a thing. There wasn't much to choose from . . . thank goodness." Grace crosses to the couch and sits next to Sean. Close. Gives him a peck on the cheek and asks, "Toast?"

  They raise their snifters, Sean says, "Slainte. Cheers." All three take a sip.

  Colt lowers his glass, smacks his lips and says, "Tastes like syrup."

  Sean smiles, "Yeah, a little, but it will creep up on you, therefore you just get one."

  Colt takes another sip, says, "Well, tell me more about you guys. The good stuff. Like what prompted . . . me," and he starts laughing.

  His mom flushes and starts to speak, however Sean interrupts and muses, "Like your mother might say about any Irish story: There are two versions to every story, and at least twelve versions of every song. The only one that counts now is that you're here; we're here; the three of us. And that's not going to change if I can help it."

  Colt says, "Helleva--"

  "Colt," admonishes Grace.

  "Heckeva toast. I say, here, here," and he raises his glass, and his parents follow. They take a sip, and Colt adds, "That's what I was askin' at dinner."

  Sean smiles, clasps Grace's hand and says, "If that answers your question for now, great. It's a start. Now then, it's getting late. It's been a long day and tomorrow is Pete and Anna's wedding. And a reception to follow at the restaurant. I would think after today, tomorrow might be a long day. Longer than D-Day. Well, hell . . . I mean, heck, it will be D-day. And under the circumstances, perhaps a tedious one at that. We need some rest so we can be in good spirits for the day. And don't forget, Saturday is the restaurant opening. So, why don't we call it a night?"

  Grace and Colt both nod and answer together.

  Sean goes on, "Colt, don't finish that brandy. How 'bout pullin' in the anchor and take your mom and dad back to the dock. Nice and slow. When I feel you backing in I'll go below and tie us off. Can you handle that?"

  "You bet, Dad. And no neckin'. It's bad enough you got her out of her clothes."

  All three laugh. Long and hard until it dwindles into soft chuckles, then smiles, and watery eyes. The atmosphere is as light as Colt's bounce as he crosses the suite and heads below to pull up the anchor. He pokes his head back in, and scolds, "Remember, no neckin'," and he's gone.

  Grace and Sean laugh again. Grace mutters, "Is minis a rinne bromach gioblach capall cumasach."

  "What the devil does that mean?"

  Grace whispers, "An awkward colt often becomes a beautiful horse. Just an old Irish saying, but then, he's not in actual fact awkward, is he? Mo run."

  "You and your Gaelic. I remember that. What did the last phrase mean?"

  "My secret love."

  "You're beautiful."

  "I was speaking of Colt." She stares solemnly for a second or two, then bursts out laughing and nudges Sean in the ribs.

  They look into each other's eyes, then Sean takes her in his arms and kisses her. Grace wraps her arms around Sean, and they recapture their youth for more than a few moments. Finally, Sean releases Grace and says, "Remember, no necking."

  "You started it. Just like last time." Then looking at the coffee table and smiling, she pats it with her hand and says, "Not tonight's table, but possibly soon," and gets up, strolls to the cabinet and pours herself another brandy. Says, "Want a refill?"

  Sean gets up, says, "Sure. Let's go outside and see where the Skipper has taken us."

  After he gets his brandy refilled, they stroll out onto the deck. Sean looks around, says, "Like that boy. He and I are on the same frequency, but not tonight."

  Grace smiles, "Good. Why?"

  "He's gone further up bay." Sean chuckles, "To give me more time. He has a lot to learn about being a chaperone, and more important, a father. This is not a habit he'll want."

  Grace looks around, laughs softly, murmurs, "He has. But, that's my son. Always thinking of his mom."

  Sean goes inside, gets on the intercom and tells Colt to turn about and head for the dock. Then adds, "But, thanks anyway."

  The Wanderer makes a lazy turn to port, then all can hear the engines roar to life as Colt pushes the throttles forward. Home it is, and Taps paraphrased . . .

  Day is done.

  Gone the sun.

  From the ocean.

  From the bays.

  From the sky.

  All is well,

  Safely rest.

  God is nigh.

  CHAPTER 40

  Sean wakes to find clear skies with dawn's reddish-gold hue radiating off the parking lot and docks, then melding with the bay. With the ebbing tide this morning the smell of the bay hangs heavy in the air, and if one listens closely they can just about hear the soft shell crabs scuttling for cover beneath the boats and piers. It will do the critters little good for soon the boats will depart on fishing ad
ventures, and the vacationing crabbers will attack with their poled nets, wading about the pilings in search of their succulent entree.

  After dressing Sean picks up his extension phone, dials Grace's number. It rings only twice and he hears a sleepy yet blithe voice say, "Good morning, Holli here."

  "Tis this the lass with the bellowing skirt and the pale blue panties?"

  He hears a mocked gasp, then he hears her say, "Shame on you. You weren't supposed to be gawking."

  She and Sean talk; she whispers; he does as well although he has no reason as she might. They agree to adjourn to the Wanderer tonight after the reception. For a nightcap and perhaps a cruise. At the end of the call, Sean says, "See ya tonight. Lookin forward to some time alone." He listen, smiles, then says, "I wish." Then listens again. Says, "Bye. Me too."

  Before he can retreat to the galley to fix himself breakfast, the phone's shrill tone blares its beckoning. He answers on the second ring, "Sean Gallagher." After exchanging good mornings with Rachael, he says, "Sure, c'mon over. Want breakfast? Just getting ready to fix it for myself." He listens, says, "Okay, see you in forty minutes." Then, "Yeah, I'll be finished."

  * * *

  Colt has heard the telephone ring in his mother's room as he stares at the ceiling trying to get the sandman's sediment from his eyes. The telephone serves as his alarm clock, and he leaps to his feet and readies himself for the day. Consequently, shortly after this terse awakening he and his mom are in the kitchen. Grace serves him only cereal and juice; coffee and a piece of toast for her. Colt is in his work clothes of sneakers, shorts and T-shirt. Grace has yet to make ready for her day, as a result she's in her well-worn robe and is barefoot.

  After she places the meager breakfast on the table and both are seated, she says, "Honey, this will have to hold us until the reception tonight."

  "Okay, Mom. I'll have a couple of bowls then."