by T L Harty
When Gramps answered the phone, he told me that Grammy wasn’t there. He was surprised to find out that I wanted to talk with him. I asked Gramps to call dad at work to let him know that Jed would be arriving a day early and needed a place to stay. Gramps would tell him that Jed was arriving early this evening. Technically, he would be arriving (again) earlier in the evening. Gramps didn’t need to know that Jed had already arrived or that Jed and I were dating. Hopefully, Gramps’ lack of unnecessary communication would work in my favor.
Gramps asked why I couldn’t just call Dad myself. It was a really good question to which I didn’t immediately have an answer. I explained that I had to call Gramps collect from a pay phone because I wasn’t at home, but Dad’s work wouldn’t accept collect calls. It was all true, but equally suspicious at the same time. Before hanging up, I told Gramps that I loved him. The whole situation was now out of my hands.
I just about jumped out of my skin after turning around from the pay phone because Jed was right behind me.
“Did I hear that right?” Jed wondered. “You love someone else. I came all this way and you love someone else?”
In my mind, I quickly ran over all the things I could say to torture or tease poor Jed, but the sad look on his face made that course of action seem cruel.
“That was your great-uncle Wayne,” I told him. “And, yes, I love him very much. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Oh,” Jed said, relieved. He smiled, trying to erase the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. “Why did you call him?”
“I am hoping that Gramps can ask my dad to let you stay overnight,” I said. “I’m afraid this will be a big deal for my dad, and if I ask- the answer will be no for sure. My father is not thrilled with the idea of us as a couple.”
“Well, your dad wouldn’t like the idea of you datin’ anyone,” Jed pointed out.
“He will love you,” I said, reaching up to Jed’s cheek. We kissed by the pay phone with no concern for his father or mine. It was a freedom we had never experienced, making us feel suddenly grown up.
We decided to hang out at a local park for a while. Before my father was due home, Jed would drop me off a couple of blocks from my house. To not arouse suspicion, I put out some chicken breasts to defrost for grilling later. But, if plans went as expected, we’d all be going out for dinner tonight instead of tomorrow night.
Dad arrived home around his normal time of 6 p.m. We greeted each other. He put his briefcase down at the kitchen table and saw the chicken on the counter. He picked it up and placed the chicken in the fridge. Why wasn’t he telling me the wonderful news that Jed was going to be in town soon? Conversational fishing was in order.
“I thought we could grill some chicken,” I said. “Why did you put it away?”
“We have other plans tonight,” he answered.
“Oh. Did you have a good day a work?” I wondered. Sticking to our normal exchange for a while would be best.
“It was work,” he replied. “Nothing out of the ordinary except your grandfather called me today. Apparently, Jed needs a favor.”
Thank goodness I was already aware of what was happening. Had this been new information, I may have very well jumped up and down with excitement. As it was, I had to concentrate on staying calm. I took a couple more minutes to respond, making sure my speech wouldn’t include any high-pitched squealing.
“Hmm,” I said, sounding very uninterested. “What does he want?”
“Well, Jed is not coming tomorrow,” Dad shared.
He was trying to see how badly this news was going to upset me. What a brat, I thought. My dad had taught me how to play poker a couple of years ago. One of his friends couldn’t make it one night and he needed a spot filled at the table. This was one of those instances where my poker face would come in handy. It also didn’t hurt that I could see his hand, and knew exactly where Jed was.
“That’s too bad,” I reacted, unaffected. “He has to get here pretty soon. School starts in two weeks.”
He watched me for a couple of minutes, quite pleased with my lack of reaction to the news. He most likely assumed that Jed must not be that important to me if I showed no signs of devastation. The lower my level of interest, the more likely that Dad would allow Jed to spend the night.
“Jed is going to be here soon,” Dad announced. “He’ll stay here tonight until he can move into his dorm room tomorrow.”
“Yay!” I celebrated. “Does this mean that we can take him out to dinner today?”
“I suppose,” Dad said. “He will be here soon. You better get the pull-out bed ready in the den.”
There was more that he wanted to say…I could tell. He had thoughts and words rolling around in his mind. I could only hope that they weren’t all for Jed’s arrival. He was agitated because he had not made up his mind as to how he would greet Jed or present himself.
My dad loved me dearly. He didn’t want me to be upset about his interactions with Jed. There was much for him to consider and I didn’t envy his position or know what was best. Even so, a strange peace loomed, knowing that Jed was such a good person and my dad wanted desperately to do the right thing.
“I’ll go get the sheets,” I said, disrupting both our thoughts.
While I made up the sofa bed in the den, Dad went upstairs to put on more comfortable clothing. Summer temperatures were still in effect, so he donned some shorts and a t-shirt. After finishing the bed, I went upstairs to apply a little make-up and change my shirt.
The doorbell rang. I quickly raced out of my room. Dad was already half way down the stairs so I followed after him, making it to the door at the same time. My heart raced in anticipation of the two of them meeting.
Dad looked back at me. “You know, we could pretend we’re not home,” he said, smiling at the suggestion.
“Very funny,” I frowned. “Please open the door.”
“Hello, sir,” Jed said, as soon as the door was opened. “My dad wanted me to bring you some onions from the farm.” Jed handed over a bag of red onions. He was so nervous, reminding me of Jed’s awkwardness a couple of years ago.
Dad held the bag of onions in his hand, looking at Jed. He set the bag down on a little table and shut the door with Jed still outside. I was horrified, as Dad waited for almost a minute until he opened the door again.
I’m sure my face had an expression of anguish, but Jed’s smile was huge. Dad returned the sentiment to Jed. Perhaps this was some man-code that was beyond my scope.
Jed and my father shook hands. “It is nice to meet you Mr. Cavenaugh,” Jed said. “My name is Jed. I’m your daughter’s boyfriend, and it would be nice if we could get to know each other.”
“Very nice to meet you, Jed,” Dad said, releasing the handshake. “Please come in.”
Jed and I refrained from kissing or hugging in front of my father. That kind of comfort-level would take some time, if it happened at all.
As Jed walked past my dad, he said to him, “Thanks for the do-over.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Dad told Jed, while winking at me.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Dad asked Jed.
“A glass of water would be great,” he replied.
“Your dad and grandpa probably let you drink beer,” Dad assumed. “Would you like a beer?”
This was a test! My dad didn’t think there was anything wrong with beer- if you were of legal age and not dating his daughter. Jed, on the other hand, was allowed to drink beer and may have thought this was a legitimate offer. When dad turned his head for a second to get a beer from the fridge, I gave Jed a look that let him know not to accept the beer.
Dad tried to hand Jed a beer. “Oh, no, Mr. Cavenaugh,” Jed explained, “I appreciate the offer, but I’m only eighteen.”
“That’s right,” Dad said, knowing full-well that Jed was eighteen. “Muriel, why don’t you get a glass of water for your boyfr…uh, for Jed?”
That little test of Dad’s was a good
indication that he was looking for faults…little chinks in Jed’s armor. I would have to pay close attention to conversation, as Dad could be very sly. After handing the glass to Jed, Dad motioned us all into the living room.
“Let’s have a seat,” he suggested. “We can get to know each other a little better.”
That sentence was spoken in the lesser-known language of “Dadenese,” and could be translated to mean: let’s go find out if you are worthy to date my daughter.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 17- Morrigan, Goddess of Battle
Bridget had only stayed on at the castle for an additional week of training. It wasn’t of much use, however. There was nothing retained past the knowledge that my grandparents were killed.
Of all the people that could be coming to the castle next, Macy was the perfect choice. She would understand my anger. Perhaps, even encourage me in it. Rick was no longer highest-ranked on my shit list. Whoever harmed my grandparents had now overtaken the honor of the top spot. I never had a list before this month, but it was filling up quickly.
Thinking about Rick reminded me that I hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of weeks. His lack of control of the situation had to be driving him crazy. It was Sunday, so he’d most likely be home. I picked up the receiver, thinking it would be good to let him know he’s still not in control.
A female voice answered the phone.
“Seriously,” I asked, “you answer the phone there?”
“Muriel, you need to understand that I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Lorrah pleaded.
“I’d like to talk to my husband, please,” I said, ignoring her attempt to explain and purposely using the term husband.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you this entire month!” Rick said, barking through the receiver. “I’ve called everyone you know.”
Ignoring his whining, I inquired, “Are you still planning on going through with a divorce?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I was hoping you could meet me at my parent’s house in Vermont. All the papers have been drawn up. Are you available next week?”
“I honestly don’t know, but I will be in touch,” I informed. “If we can meet later in the week, possibly Thursday- that should work. Did you want to say hi to Deidra?”
“Give me your number so we can firm up plans,” Rick demanded. “And I talk to Deidra quite often, so it’s O.K.”
“I’ll call in a couple of days to let you know about Thursday,” I said. Then, without a hint of remorse, I hung up on him.
Walking across the hall, I slipped into Deidra’s room, where she was putting away her laundry. Between Bridget, Bruce and Tracy hopping in and out to spend time with her, we hadn’t hung out much these last couple of weeks.
“So,” I started, “you talk to your dad a lot?”
“Maybe once or twice a week for ten or fifteen minutes,” she responded.
“He doesn’t have our phone number,” I stated. “That’s good. You didn’t tell him where we are, did you?”
Deidra didn’t verbally answer my question, but the look on her face said it all. She most definitely did not.
“Mom,” she addressed me, “you do understand that someday it will be me that has to take your position. I’m being trained right alongside you.” She finished with her laundry, turning toward me. “I grasp the importance of maintaining secrecy,” she said. “My natural giftedness just doesn’t compare to yours.”
“If I could give it to you now, I would,” I confessed. However, if danger was soon to be introduced, I would try to keep her as far away from it as possible.
“Hi Ladies,” a voice from Deidra’s doorway spoke, practically making the two of us jump out of our skin. Macy had arrived for this week’s training. “I hit some traffic on the way here, and was supposed to be here earlier this morning. Have you both eaten lunch?”
We nodded. “Great,” she said. “Let me put my bags in my room and I’ll meet you in the gym. I need to get a little workout in because I’ve been in the car for way too long. You guys should put on some shorts and we can all work out together.”
“Might as well,” I agreed. “We’re going to be there anyway.”
Deidra and I entered the gym to find Bruce hugging Macy, welcoming her back to the castle. They were catching up on each other’s lives and made plans to get together for a beer that evening. I’d been doing all I could to avoid Bruce, given his effect on me. But, seeing the two of them having such a wonderful time, made me jealous.
When Bruce turned around, he said hello to Deidra and I before leaving. His workout was obviously complete as he wiped beads of sweat from his exposed skin.
“If you don’t choose to be with him,” Macy warned, “there will be a line of women ready to take your place. He’s too yummy to go to waste.”
Macy’s comment came as a shock. I had been keeping Bruce at arm’s length, not thinking about all the options available to him. “Do you think you might be one of those women, Macy?” I wondered.
Macy crinkled her nose. “No,” she answered quickly. “Maybe a few rolls in the hay, but nothing serious. It’s not my style.” Macy started a jog on one of the treadmills. There were only two in the gym, so I let Deidra get on the other one. The rowing machine was fine by me.
“So, how did you enjoy your time with Bridget?” Macy asked.
Deidra and I answered at the same time. My answer was “okay” and hers was an enthusiastic “great!” Everything about this experience was more to Deidra’s liking. The training with Bridget may have been deemed something other than okay, if it hadn’t included the news about my grandparents. That was hard to forget, torturing my thoughts and visions ever since Bridget shared the information.
“There is something I can’t figure out,” I said. “If my Grammy was so good at concealing where she was from, how was she found? Deidra tells me that this council had been in contact with her for at least the last year of her life.”
“We got lucky,” Macy explained. “Your grandmother believed that the record-keeper was part of the post of Ellowee but, his bigger service was with us even if he was not aware.” Macy slowed her pace on the treadmill, as she was getting out of breath, and continued, “There were three people the information traveled through and, quite frankly, the first two were completely devoted to your grandmother. We searched for years to find this mysterious record-keeper, but his identity is still a mystery.”
“The record-keeper is brilliant. For the final leg of the delivery, he selected a man with one foot in the grave who wasn’t expected to make it back from the assignment,” she explained. “Sometimes they came to us in wheel chairs or on oxygen. One gentleman died a few feet from the front door of this castle. They traveled with no identification, hailing from all over the globe.”
“He wasn’t a young man when we were in Ireland,” I mentioned. “He must have been replaced.”
Macy smacked the button on her treadmill to stop the machine. “Probably,” she answered. “Anyway, this third man was a randomly selected person who had no knowledge of what he was delivering or why. Your grandmother most likely assumed the information was for updating the book of Deidra.”
“So if the record-keeper is still at large,” Deidra interjected, “how did you find her?”
“The second man in the process,” Macy answered. “One year a gentleman arrived here who was neither infirm nor particularly old. It was very peculiar. We asked him to stay here for a few days as our guest.” All the machines in the gym were silenced while she told the story.
“It was two years ago,” Macy remembered. “The man, who showed up here, was taking a fare to the airport. The man in the cab was sickly. He told the cab driver that he had always found a sick person to deliver a letter, but this year, he was the sick man.”
“I know it all sounds confusing,” Macy admitted. “We kept that poor man here, questioning him incessantly and trying to find a hint or clue to any connection to your Grammy, no
matter how small. Thankfully, he liked to talk, and we all shared stories, including all manner of Irish history. The day he was planning to go home, he mentioned something that struck all of us.” Macy took a long pause.
“He told us about an argument he overheard,” Macy continued. “A teenage girl was going on about Sheela-na-gigs. This teenage girl spoke with such authority that he believed her when she argued that women, not men, had formed the little sculptures. That teenage girl was you,” Macy announced. “The man was a customer in a Kildare restaurant you had dined in.”
I took a moment to think back. “Giblets versus fun bags,” I mumbled.
Deidra started laughing. “What did you say?” she asked.
“The man in the restaurant…” I started. “He said that no man would prefer a woman’s giblets over her fun bags.” I shook my head. “There is no way you could have found my grandmother because of that interaction,” I decided. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“The man distinctly remembered thinking that you were a loon, blaming it on the fact that you were Scottish,” Macy informed.
“What!?” I exclaimed. “There was no talk of ancestry or where I was from.”
“No, there wasn’t,” Macy agreed, “but you were wearing a polo shirt with a small logo on it that read: Carlmont Scots. I believe he said there were two crossed rackets under the name.”
I knew exactly which shirt she was referring to. It was my high school badminton shirt. Our badminton team was pretty good, so the school bought us very nice shirts.
“There is only one high school in all of America with the name Carlmont Scots,” Macy grinned. “You don’t get much luckier than that. We went through the yearbooks, found all the girls in racket sports, and paid the man from the restaurant a hefty sum to identify you out of the pictures.”
“Your grandmother was just a legend up to that point,” Macy added. “We weren’t sure that a line of Enya really did exist. The reports from the record-keeper were all we had to go on. And to have proof of your existence was a relief.”