by Annie Cosby
The silence that followed felt like weights on my brain. Mom stood, arms hanging limply at her sides, knife still in one hand. Dad stared at me, eyes squinted, as if I had disappeared into thin air and he could find no trace of a person before him.
And finally, he broke the silence. “You’re going to Western,” he said evenly, calmly.
I gulped, the lie on my lips. I wasn’t ready for that confession yet. For them to know that I irrevocably could not attend Western University. “I never got a letter—”
“You will,” he said.
I scoffed.
“It’s your dream school, I don’t know why—”
“It’s not my dream school,” I said.
“It was your dream school—”
I was on my feet and screaming now. “It was not my dream to go to Western! It was your dream!”
I whipped around and left the room as quickly as possible. These were the most hurtful words I’d ever spoken to my parents. I didn’t want to see the effect. I was too angry to let it be marred by anything like pity.
Compoird sa Stoirm
Comfort in the Storm
The porch door slammed behind me, but Princess had slipped out first. There was some doubt in my mind where I would end up, but not for Princess, who hadn’t seen her good friend in a long time. She started running once she realized I intended to. She bounded ahead of me, her little feet pounding the boardwalk to Mrs. O’Leary’s tiny yellow house.
With her recent track record of invisibility, I hadn’t expected Mrs. O’Leary to be outside, but I wasn’t prepared for the person who was. Rory looked up just in time to see me stop short in the front yard, panting, eyes streaming.
Jesus! Why was he always around when I was crying?
Princess had already jumped up the stairs and stood pressed against his legs, imploring him to scratch her back.
“Cora, what’s wrong?”
I backed away abruptly. He got the hint.
“Where’s Mrs. O’Leary?” I asked.
“She’s inside,” he said, lingering on the bottom step. “I think she’s going to sleep.”
The tears were fast and I knew I looked like a tomato, but I wasn’t ready to let my guard down just yet. “Where were you?” I finally squeaked out. He was confused. It was clear on his face. “Where was Mrs. O’Leary?” I added. “She hasn’t been out here recently.”
“She’s been sick,” he said. He seemed to be weighing how much to tell me. I didn’t blame him. My current state obviously hinted at some mental instability. “She’s been pretty weak lately. The doctor’s been in nearly every day.”
My heart plummeted. Selfish, selfish Cora. Of course I hadn’t even bothered to worry about her.
“Is she okay?”
He nodded. “She misses you. Talks about you to anyone that will listen.” I sniffed loudly, and he took a tentative step off the stairs. “I missed seeing you around, too.”
I was silent. Act detached. Act detached. That’s what Rosie would have advised. Don’t let on that you think about that kiss all the time. Act detached. Detached! But I was still crying. “I’m gonna go home,” I mumbled, stumbling backward.
He stepped in front of me. “Cora, stop, you’re obviously not okay.”
“It’s nothing you’d understand,” I said.
I’d forgotten how warm his eyes were. Just looking at them made my insides melt. And the way the corner of his lip curled up in a pathetic smile hit me in the gut. “Try me?”
A sobbing, blubbering mess, I told him everything I’d said to my parents. We sat on the pier, legs dangling over the edge at first. But when it was clear I was beyond composure, Rory put his arm around me and I collapsed into a puddle in his arms.
He sat, one arm around me, one around Princess, and before I knew it, I was telling him things that I had previously thought quite unrelated to my fight with my parents. I told him about Rosie and her never-ending line of boyfriends. To my later mortification, I found myself telling him about Josh Watson. I told him about the swimming lessons I tried to go to at the beginning of the summer and the swimming lessons I’d gone to when I was young. Oyster Beach seemed a thousand miles away as I told him all about the little girl that had drowned before I was born. And somehow, in some way completely unbeknownst to me, I concluded with,
“And I just want … I just want (sniff) I just want to live in Mrs. O’Leary’s attic and (sniff) and I’d just talk about selkies with her for … for the rest of my life.”
Rory laughed.
“Am-am I crazy?” I sputtered, wiping my eyes.
“It’s quite possible,” Rory said. I snorted a particularly unattractive sound.
The pier was lashing more violently than usual in the waves. I vaguely remembered something about a storm in the forecast, and I vividly remembered Mrs. O’Leary’s account of the dog days.
“Regardless, you should go home now, it’s got to be past midnight,” he said.
“I’m not going home,” I said.
“Why?”
“I’ve never said things like that to them before. I can’t go home. Not yet. I’ll wait here until they wake up and leave the house, go about their day, then I’ll go home.”
“Cora, they’ll be worried sick.”
I shook my head. “I’m more careful than even my mom after a few margaritas. They know that.”
Rory looked as though he was about to protest, and I didn’t expect him to understand, but at that exact moment, I distracted the both of us. I had an idea so wonderful, I did something more courageous than I had ever done before. I let go of his hand and ran off the pier. I came around to the side of the pier, right up to the gentle waves. I ripped off my shoes (and nothing else, not quite that courageous) and took a few tentative steps into the water.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
“I’ve got to learn sometime,” I said. The water was past my knees now, but I was too scared to go farther. Rory was already behind me, standing at the cusp of the tide.
“Cora, it’s dangerous,” he said. “Come on.”
It was stronger than I thought it would be. And I was more scared than I thought I would be. If seals were in this water, what the hell else could be in there?
“You don’t understand the ocean; can you trust me? I swear I’ll teach you, just not here with all the waves and undercurrents.”
I didn’t move.
“Let’s go to the resort, I can get us into the pool there, just please will you get out of there?”
I suddenly began a retreat to the beach. “I have a better idea,” I said and winked at him. I actually winked at him. A classic Caroline Manchester move. I was actually turning into my mother.
An Cúnamh D'Fhostaigh
The Hired Help
“I can’t do this, Cora,” Rory said. He stood beside the pool, throwing nervous glances up at the giant, sleeping house. Princess sat resignedly outside the white fence, watching us. I had never felt so brave in my life, and I was already sliding out of my shoes.
“What’s the matter?” I said playfully. “Afraid the statues might be watching?” With a grin, I stepped cautiously down the steps into the shallow end of the pool. It was cold, but I resisted shivering and kept going until it was past my waist. God, I felt courageous.
But Rory’s face was seriously worried, and he crossed his arms. He threw another anxious look up at the dark windows of the Ritz house. I’d thought sneaking in to use the massive Ritz pool was one of my better ideas. “I don’t want to do this,” Rory repeated.
Riding high on a million emotions raging inside me, I stepped up to the side of the pool. I put on the most beguiling look I could muster and began to unbutton my dress. My fingers faltered on the second button. “And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”
He groaned. I was relieved when he bent down and buttoned the one button I’d managed to undo. But my pride was a pinch wounded, too. “Well, if—”
He interrupted me. �
�Cora, I could get fired.”
I froze. “Please tell me you mean ‘fired’ as in set ablaze, and you’re just really confused about science and—”
“Cora, I’ve been working here.” He looked miserable as he stood back up.
“You work here? Here?”
He shrugged. “It started out with me just cleaning out Mr. O’Leary’s shed and fixing some things, Mr. Hall got me the job, but then they had other stuff around and …”
I didn’t know why I was feeling fury inside, but I was. I stepped slowly out of the water and stood shivering and dripping by the stairs. “You work for the Ritzes?” I said.
He nodded guiltily, like a toddler caught stealing cookies before dinner.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “It never came up. Besides, things were going so well with you not hating me.” His smile was easy. Why was he so goddamn easy-going and smiley? “I didn’t think that to admit to working for one of your friends would exactly be in my favor. I didn’t know if you’d be mad at me or think less of me for working for your friends, but either way, I knew it wouldn’t be good.”
“They aren’t my friends,” I said coldly.
“Cora, why do you care?”
“Why do I care?” I repeated mutinously. “I care because I would rather spend time with you than worthless Marshall Ritz who has never worked a day in his life and probably never will. But the world seems intent on forcing me to hang out with him while you’ve been working away in his ridiculous house. With those absurd statues!”
I ran over and pounded my fist on a small cement woman dressed in the robes of ancient Athens. It only hurt my hand and I groaned in frustration.
Rory chuckled. It annoyed me. “Rory, I’m serious!”
He stifled a grin. That heart-stopping grin of his. “I know you are. But if I’m not mistaken, this you-wanting-to-hang-out-with-me thing is rather new.”
Not as new as you think.
“But,” he continued, “you’ve got time with me now.”
I rolled my eyes. “I was talking—”
He reached me in two long strides and kissed me lightly on my lips, which were twitching in anger. It was enough to shut me up, which I think was the intention. Then he took my hand and pulled me back toward the boardwalk. “Come on, let’s get out of here so that I get paid next week.”
I let him lead me out of the yard, but walked slowly to keep some form of my petulance. At the back of the Pink Palace, he paused. Princess dashed away up the stairs and waited for me to open the screen door. The lights were still on inside, but the light in my parents’ room was out. The house glowed softly in the night, framed by the darkness of the houses around it. The windows shone with a faint peachy rim, but the rest of it could have been black or green or any color at all in this light. It was almost pretty.
“Should I even bother telling you to go to bed?” Rory said.
I shook my head. “I’m going to let Princess in, don’t move,” I said.
“You’ve got to at least change!” he hissed after me.
“That would be admitting defeat,” I said.
We walked back along the boardwalk; I was barefoot but left large wet footprints on the wood.
“You are the most stubborn person I know.”
“You have no idea,” I said.
We kept walking, but near the resort, he paused again. “So I’m supposed to just leave you to sleep in a wet heap on the jetty?” he said. “For the sharks or the morning swimmers to find you?”
“There are no sharks and I’m not particularly afraid of the morning swimmers,” I said.
He grinned. My heart beat furiously, but I wasn’t up to the challenge of broaching that topic yet. “I’m not going to sleep,” I said quickly, to change the subject.
He groaned again, that half-annoyed, half-pleased sound from the depths of his stomach that I was beginning to enjoy. “Come on,” he said. “I can get us into a cabin.”
My stomach twisted and I stopped. “Rory—I’m not going to sleep with you,” I blurted out.
He smiled, but kept walking. “That’s okay; I’ve always thought sleeping was a solitary activity.”
I ran a few paces. “You know what I mean! Rory, I’m serious!”
He stopped and turned to face me, this time his face serious. “I know. So am I. I would never make you do anything you don’t want to do. It’ll be warm in a cabin and we can sit down.” I had never felt more comfortable taking his hand.
I did, however, feel vaguely guilty as he came out of the office with a ring of keys in hand and I followed him to cabin 24. But visions of a kind, cheery Mrs. O’Brien were the last thing my brain wanted at the moment and so I sat down at the kitchen table, my eyes on Rory.
There was a small block of wood in the middle of the table, with the same words painted across each side.
“What does that say?” I asked.
“Céad mile fáilte,” he said. It sounded like “cad meel-ah fall-shuh.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“It means, ‘a hundred thousand welcomes.’ It’s Irish.”
“I …” … didn’t know that was a language?
“Most people here call it Gaelic, but over there, they just call it Irish. Not many people speak it anymore, but I’d like to learn.” He disappeared into another room.
The fatigue hit me all at once. My eyes were heavy, and I moved to the couch across the combination kitchen-living room. I knew if I so much as put my head down, I’d be out like a light. I was also soaking wet, and so I perched on the edge of the couch instead.
“How did you know about the seals?” I asked. “The ones we went to see?”
“It’s a resting colony, a haul-out. People aren’t allowed to go down there, there’s some sort of law, so everyone knows where they are.”
“Are they always there?” I asked.
“No, around this time of year they go seek out secluded caves where they’ll have their babies. Did you see their eyes? They have amazing eyes. They’re huge and round and super complicated since they have to be able to focus them both in water and in air.”
I’d rather stare at yours. I couldn’t stop looking at his own huge, beautiful eyes.
And then a big white fluffy towel hit me in the head.
“I won’t look,” he said, already turning back to the kitchenette.
I smiled and hesitated only a minute before slipping out of my clothes and wrapping the huge towel around myself twice. Then I curled up on the couch and tried to keep my eyes open. I figured I wouldn’t be very romantic when I was snoring, and I was determined to remember this night for the rest of my life (or at least long enough to recount to Rosie).
Rory appeared in front of me. “You know there’s a bed,” he said.
“I think that would be tempting fate, Mr. O’Brien,” I said.
“Whatever you say, Miss Manchester.” He disappeared into the bedroom and returned a moment later with a pillow and a blanket. “Lift your head.”
He slipped the pillow under my wet head and spread the blanket around me. As he leaned over to tuck the blanket around me, I grabbed his shirt. I held it for a moment before he took the initiative and bent down to kiss me. It was soft, comforting.
He finally pulled away.
“Where are you going to sleep?” I asked.
“I think it’s the gentlemanly thing to offer to sleep on the floor, but since there’s an open bed …”
I laughed. “I have a better idea.” I lifted the blanket for him to join me on the couch.
“You’re so kind, saving me the trouble of having to sleep on the floor or that wonderful empty king-size bed.” He slipped in beside me. We had to lay on our sides to both fit. Our faces touched on the pillow.
“Are you all right now?” he asked.
I nodded into his forehead. A sob got choked in my throat and I laughed, shaking my head. “At least I thought so.” He slipped an arm under my neck and rolled me into
his chest. The gesture made me want to sob. “What am I going to do?” I said.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
“I want to stay here forever.”
“Nobody ever wants summer to end,” he agreed.
“No,” I said. “I want the summer to end. I want everyone in the big houses to go home. I want to stay; I want to see what Oyster Beach looks like in the winter.”
“Then do it,” he said after a thoughtful pause.
“I can’t. I don’t have any money.”
“Get a job,” he said simply.
“Where? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly qualified for much.”
“Lucky for you, not many qualifications are needed for cleaning cabins or serving burgers on Main Street. But I can tell you, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” He was smiling. “You can ask any of the O’Brien kids about that.”
“It’s got to be better than going back with them,” I said instead.
“Cora, what do you really want?” he said. “You don’t really want to stay in Oyster Beach. That’s just a form of running away, which is preferable to going home for you. But you’ve gotta think about what you really want. From what I know of you, you don’t want to run away. You want to find something. Your life. But you’ve got to think about what that means. Where that is.”
I was silent for a long time. I could feel him relaxing, his breathing becoming more regular.
“How did you know you should go to Ireland?” I finally said.
I thought maybe he hadn’t heard me. I was about to check to see if he was asleep when he finally replied. “I didn’t. It was just an idea. An idea that wouldn’t get out of my head until I tried it. But I was never sure it was what I should do. I’m still not sure. In fact, when I met you, Oyster Beach regained a lot of its old luster.”
I leaned back so that I could look him in the face. “So why are you going?” I asked.
“Are you asking me to stay?” he said.