Home is a Long Time Ago

by William F Lee

  "Also this morning I'm going to tell Mister Barto, and the folks that work for me, the truth. A quick and short version. Ask for their support and for them to keep to the business at hand. No gossiping."

  "Mom, okay, but no chance. Other than Mister Barto, they're all women. Gossiping is their business."

  "That's not nice, but probably true. So be it. Going to get this done so we can go on our way."

  "Geez, it'll be all over town before noon. I guess I'll tell Robert this morning on the way to the dock. Figure out what to do with the others later." He takes two quick spoonfuls of cereal, then slurps, "Mom, seriously, what about our name?"

  "Well, we have a few choices. We can change it back to O'Riley. Or we can leave it as Callahan." She pauses, smiles coyly and says in a whimsical tone, "Or I guess wait to see what Sean decides to do. As a matter of fact he called this morning. First thing."

  "Yeah, I heard."

  "You heard?"

  "Well, only the phone ringing."

  "Oh." She takes a sip of coffee, smiles coyly. "Sean asked me out on a date tonight after the reception. Well, not actually a date. A late night cruise around the bay."

  "That's great. I mean, the date. Want me to take the helm like I did last night?"

  "No, thank you."

  "By the way, what do old people do on dates anyway? Especially since you two already have a son. Not much anticipation." He chuckles at his own humor and takes another spoonful of the Cheerios, then adds with his mouth full, "And I want you home by eleven; tomorrow is a work day." He chokes on his mouthful of cereal spewing milk and tiny oat donuts on the table. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as his mother responds.

  "Wise guy," she winks and grins, "That's a horrible thing to say. Nonetheless, we'll find some way to amuse ourselves." Pauses, smiles. Then mocking anger adds, "And you should be ashamed of yourself." Grace gets up, and as she heads for upstairs to get ready for her day, she says over her shoulder, "Clean up your mess, laddie, your mother's got her own to do . . . and have a good day with your dad. Then get home and get ready for the wedding and reception."

  * * *

  Sean is on the lower deck of the Wanderer fiddling with some fishing rigs when Pete arrives at the dock. Both boats have half-day trips scheduled with small parties. They'll be back by noon, one at the latest. Plenty of time to check arrangements and get ready. The new Food and Beverage Manager, the new Chef and the Bartender have everything under control. The reception is in reality a trial run for the opening on Saturday evening.

  Pete comes to Sean's slip, says, "Good morning. How did it go last night?"

  "Went well, Pete. Extremely well."

  "Good. When's the wedding?"

  Sean blows out a breath. Shakes his head just enough to be noticeable for Pete to understand his frustration with the interference. "Pete, don't get ahead of the game. Let things be. Grace and I have a lot to talk about. Anyway, the next wedding around here is yours and Anna's. Between yesterday, your wedding and the restaurant opening, I think our plates are more than full. You agree?"

  "Yes, but I--"

  "No but I's, Pete." He stares hard at the old man, a reminder of their previous conversation about meddling. Then says in a warmer tone, "Where are the two boys? We've got short outings today and not much time after."

  Pete takes his crusty, soiled Captain's cap off, runs his hand through his thick, grey streaked hair, and is about to respond when into the parking lot ride Colt and Robert on their bikes. They skid to a halt at the restaurant virtually laying the bikes on their side and hop off all in one motion. They put their bikes in the racks, lock them and race to the dock with the enthusiasm a new day brings.

  Colt says, "Good morning, Dad. Morning, Mister Pete. Who goes with who this morning?"

  "Son, tell you what. You come with me. You take the helm today, and I'll work with the customers. How's that sound?"

  "You're kidding?"

  "Nope, I already have the rigs ready and bait cut. You're the Skipper today. We'll be doin' weaks and flounder this morning. Start with the flounder off the rocks and work back."

  Colt pumps his fist and heads for the Wanderer as Robert looks at the old man and asks, "Can I--"

  "No. Get the poles ready and cut bait. I'm not anxious to run aground yet." He pauses, looking at Robert's dejected face, then adds, "Go, get busy. I'll let you bring her in today. Then we'll see about the other," as he waves his hand toward his boat. Robert smiles and runs off toward the Fox Sea Lady, happy and full of anticipation. Colt told Robert about his dad and mom earlier. Robert had thought it was neat to have a dad like Mister Gallagher. However, it's old news already.

  Sean and Pete look at one another, smile. Pete says, "Easy to please, aren't they?"

  "Yeah, they are. Do you remember your first time?"

  "Oh yes, and I remember it was a big deal to me. Different though. My papa was a commercial fisherman. A Glouscesterman. You?"

  "Yes, and you were just as gruff then . . . and I nearly did run us aground on that sand bar by Clam Island. Remember?"

  "Yeah, but you didn't."

  "Well, it's a big day for these two youngsters too. Can't give one a treat without the other." Sean looks to the sky, "Gonna be a beautiful day regardless of the mythical warning."

  Pete frowns, "Don't be so sure," and turns at the sound of a car entering the parking lot. His smile leaves his face, turns to Sean and says, "See what I mean. Sailor's warning. It's that, Jezebel again. Damn early for her."

  "Knock it off, Ponzio. She's here to see me. And she told you that last night, you remember." He pauses, glances to the lot, then back to Pete. "And she told me you apologized to her, and her to you, so what's with the attitude? Can it. I'll be back in a few minutes," and Sean strides toward the car without waiting for a reply.

  Pete blinks in shock at the remarks. After the other day he didn't expect any more rebukes. He mutters, "Satan be gone." Looks skyward, "God, I wish no harm to her, only that she leave here and release my boy from her spell." He turns and steps toward his boat. Mutters, "Amen," and continues on his way.

  Rachael is already out by the time Sean gets to the car and she's looking business-like and striking in a dressy pants suit. She is standing, arm over the open door, leaning on the car. Both say, "Good morning," at the same time.

  Sean smiles, adds, "What's up? You're lookin' as beautiful as ever today."

  "Thanks, but not beautiful enough to hold on to you."

  "Aw, Rach, that's not fair. Especially to you. You're everything a guy could want. It just didn't work out for us. That's all. I'm here. You want to be elsewhere. We're different people. We want different things. Anyway, you do look gorgeous this morning. What are you up to this fine day?"

  "Sean, you're probably right. You always say the right thing. That was just one of my unnecessary sarcastic jabs. Sorry." She sighs, then smiles. "And thank you for the compliment." Shakes her head enough to allow her hair to bounce, its movement seems to clear the atmosphere in her mind. "Anyway, I've checked out of my condo; packed my bags; and I'm headed back to the city today. Leaving this evening for Paris. I belong there, and I have unfinished business there as well. That is, if he'll have me."

  "He'll have you unless he's a fool." He looks Rachael in the eyes. "Are you sure this is what you want? You know, this little ol' town is a nice place. Plenty of room for you here and plenty to do."

  "But you'll always be here, and not with me." She sighs, "It is nice. Only not for me. Wasn't to begin with twenty years ago, and isn't now. Was fooling myself thinking it might be. I'm going to dabble in the fashion business again, and hopefully Jean will have me back. He's a nice man and he loves me. And he too loves the rag business." She laughs. "In time perhaps we can have what I think you and Holli will have. You here by the sea; me in the French countryside" She leans forward, gives Sean a peck on the cheek, then puts her arms around him, holding tight for more than several seconds. Her warm breath tantalizing his ear and her sc
ent calling him.

  Finally she lets go. Eyes misty, she kisses him again and says, "It'll take me time to get over you, but I will." She smiles, kisses him yet again and whispers, "Je vous en prie."

  "Now what does that--"

  "It was my pleasure." Her bottom lip quivers, but she manages a weak grin.

  Sean hugs her again, quickly releases her before any spell can engulf him and says, "Damn, Rach." He pauses, then as she slides into her BMW convertible he says, "Be careful in that machine. And stay in touch. Send me an invitation to the wedding."

  "I'll do that. Bye."

  "Hey, Rach, what are you going to do with this magnificent machine anyway?"

  "I'm shipping it to Paris. I may have to give you up, but not this." She laughs, closes the door, starts the car, waves and with tires screeching pulls out of the parking lot, and Sean's life.

  And Grace's . . . and Colt's.

  And with a plea answered. This Satan will vanish from Pete's prayers, dreams and life. At least in this form.

  CHAPTER 41

  At quarter to the noon hour the Wanderer and the Fox Sea Lady cruise through the inlet and past Barnegat Light with Weak fish and Flounder flags flying. At the helm of each are young men, both grinning from ear to ear and on occasion they give the fog horns a blast to release some of their teenage enthusiasm. On deck with the customers, who are sharing in the delight of the two young skippers, are Sean and Pete. Both standing ready with the stern lines. The customers' fish have been cleaned and filleted; reels washed with fresh water; rods stowed and decks clean. Colt and Robert at the helm of each boat have had the seamanship tutelage to know the feel of their crafts they now handle. When they glance below they see they're receiving another lesson from their respective skippers on how to quickly and efficiently ready the customers for their trip home and the boats readied for their next trip. Both Skippers and Apprentices are smiling at their accomplishments.

  Once in port and all fishing customers departed, Sean and Pete congratulate Colt and Robert for their fine work and expert seamanship. Colt tells Robert to go on without him, then leaves the Wanderer and dashes over to see the old man. He catches Pete still on board. Colt looks back at the Wanderer to ensure his dad isn't watching. He climbs to the bridge and sidles over next to Pete and says, "Mister Pete, sir, I have a favor to ask."

  "Go ahead, Skipper," smiling broadly knowing the boy is proud of his work today.

  "Thank you, Mister Pete. It was neat." He pauses, looks to see if Sean has seen him yet. He hasn't. Whispers to Pete as if his dad could hear. "I need a big favor."

  "What is it?"

  "I don't know much about my dad. He's told me a few things. Mostly about he and my mom. Since you've known him all his life I wonder if you could spend some time with me this afternoon, telling me about him. About things he did in the Marine Corps. That kind of stuff. Things he hasn't told me and most likely won't."

  Pete looks at the boy for several moments, eyes growing misty. He drops his head, chin barely resting on his chest. He turns away for a moment, looks to the sky, then he turns back facing Colt, eyes still misty.

  Colt says, "Did I say something wrong, Mister Pete?"

  Pete shakes his head. "No, Colt. You haven't. I'm just an old man who can't hide his emotions. Sure I'll tell you. I'd be proud to. And I'll show you pictures, some articles and things he's sent me over the years. He'll never show them to anyone, but you need to know firsthand what kind of man your dad was, and is. . . and believe me, they don't make many like him."

  Colt is affected by the old man's emotions. He says, "That's great. Can we do it this afternoon?"

  "Well, okay, but we'll have to hurry. Go peddle over to Anna's. She'll get you something cold to drink. I'll be along shortly. Everything I want to show you is there."

  "You won't tell him, will ya?"

  Pete stands staring out over the bay, then looks at the boy, "No, it'll be our secret. But we'll have to make it fast. Big doin's tonight, and I would guess my Anna will be a might edgy."

  Colt says, "Thanks, Mister Pete," and clamors down from the bridge and off the boat running for his bike.

  Pete looks across the slip to the Wanderer and sees Sean fiddling around on the bridge of his boat. Pete mutters, "One more secret won't hurt." Looks up at the sky, "Lord, help me with this one." He tilts his head, looks out over the island toward the ocean. Hearing no thunder this time, he smiles and climbs down from the bridge.

  * * *

  Grace is home by mid-afternoon. She thought the day would never pass. In the morning she had gone to her two shops and told her managers a shortened version of her and Sean's story. Then the same with all her employees at her real estate company. The reaction wasn't as subdued as she had hoped. At her company it was more of a giddied, happy and excited one as if she had told the women she was getting married today along with Pete and Anna. Perhaps that is what they expect to happen and were simply reacting to a given in their mind.

  Chuck Barto was delighted and saw this as perhaps a way to entice Sean to join the Chamber. Another male on the board to offset the flounce of a nearly all female slate. She told Barto that the idea was his and between him and Sean. Not her and that if he wished, she would have the ladies all wear pants suits to lessen the ruffle. He quickly forgot her original announcement having tasted the sting of this feisty Irish wench.

  After pretending to be busy at the office she left for her appointment for the full treatment at a busy salon because of the wedding and it's the only one in town. After the trim and cut, manicure and pedicure, Grace is at home in her robe, clothes laid out for the evening. She is nervously sitting in the living room trying to read while wondering where Colt could be. Just as she is about to call the docks, she hears the clattering of the bike against the house, the kitchen screen door slashing open and slamming shut.

  "Hey, Mom. I'm home. You'll never guess what happened today and where I've been."

  "Let's see. You threw your father overboard to get even?"

  "Naw. Dad let me skipper the boat today. Everything. He worked the deck and the customers. I was at the helm. Pickin' the fishin' spots. And guess what else?"

  "What?"

  "He did all the cleaning of the catch, and the boat. I was the Captain today. And so was Robert. Well, more or less anyway. It was great."

  "That's wonderful but perhaps you should have a small snack before getting cleaned up. Big doin's tonight. What'd ya think?"

  "Yeah. A sandwich or a bowl of ice cream. Do you know what else?"

  "A sandwich. And no, what else? "

  "I went over to Miss Anna's. Mister Pete showed me all of dad's stuff. The medals, newspaper articles and the citations that go with the medals. Man, Mom, dad did some heavy shit. You--"

  "Colton. What kind of language is that? I won't have you talking like some damn drunken sailor."

  "Mom, you just cussed."

  "That was to make a point. Now then, does your dad know you've seen all this?"

  "No. Pete is going to keep it a secret. He swore."

  "Colt, I love Pete. But that old man couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it. And, if you want my advice, don't start a relationship with your dad by having secrets. I suggest you tell him later on today. Then see how he reacts. You might have to ask him to be easy on that old man."

  Colt stands gazing at his mother. Starts nodding his head slowly, lips tight, then says, "You're right, Mom. I'll tell him. But, Holy Smokes, Mom, dad has certainly done some . . . some stuff. I mean, Mom, the Navy Cross! Wow! That's the second highest award there is. And Mister Pete has a picture of dad in his Blues with all his medals on and stuff. He's jumped from airplanes. Been on Subs. You should see it all."

  "I will if your dad wishes to show me. I'm glad you got to see it all and know something more about your father. He's good man. Now, then, why don't we go in the kitchen and I'll fix us a sandwich to tide us over. Okay?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Is there any iced tea made?"

/>   "Yes, sun tea. It's setting on the deck railing. How about bringing it in for me? "

  * * *

  Anna looks at Pete after the boy leaves. She shakes her head.

  "What's the matter?"

  "Two things. First, you can't have the boya start off hisa relationship with hisa father by havin' secrets with you. I thoughta you woulda have learned by now," Anna says angrily.

  "Anna, the boy asked--"

  "I don'ta care. You tell Sean what you've done."

  "Okay. I will, later."

  "Ponzio! No. Today." She calms herself. Takes a deep breath. "And you'll have a wonderful opportunity because you're leaving here right now. All your clothes are at Sean's. Remember? And you are not supposed to see the bride before the wedding. "

  "Non importa."

  "It does matter. To me. And put our bags in the pick-up. We're leaving for New York right after the reception. And Rome tomorrow. Now, go, but give me a quick kiss before leaving and keep that a secret."

  He gives Anna a kiss, then runs his hand across his lips as if zipping close and mumbles as he turns for the door, "A presto."

  Anna laughs and says after him, "I heard that. Yes. Very soon. And forever."

  CHAPTER 42

  The wedding goes perfectly. It's held on the dock adjacent to Sean's and Pete's boats. The boats are decorated with colorful ribbons from the bridge to the lower deck railings and to the dock. The priest is Father Grace, and like Pete he is an old timer in Harvey Cedars. Sean is Pete's best man, and Anna's older sister by a few years, Gina, is the matron of honor. The ceremony is short; conducted in English; and the guests number forty or more. They include Grace and Colt of course; Chuck Barto and Ellie; Robert and his parents; three or four friends of George who have known Pete well for years; ten or twelve fishing boat captains and wives; and the restaurant's new crew of the F&B Manager, Chef and Head Bartender.

  Borrowing from an old Italian tradition, some of the fishing boat captains' wives placed objects in the path of the bride as she walks to the restaurant from the dock for the reception. A broom for example, which if the bride picks it up it means she will keep a clean house. Anna picks up the broom and in good humor swats Pete in the seat of his pants. That gets a riotous round of applause and laughter.