by Kelly Risser
***
Sunday morning I sat on my bed, staring out my window and contemplating what to do. I had the whole day to myself, and the house was empty. My grandparents and Mom had gone over to Lydia’s for brunch. Yesterday, after I talked to Kim, I finished my homework. Not exciting, but it had to be done. Last night, Katie and I went to Evan’s game. It was a close call. Evan’s team won. Afterwards, I only saw him for a few minutes. He needed to go back to the dorm and finish a big project. So, Brian took us to his favorite diner for burgers. Afterwards, we went home.
I told Katie that Kim was coming to visit. I was excited to introduce her to everyone. I planned to tell Kim about David, too. I hadn’t mentioned anything yet, wanting to see her face when I told her.
The house was so quiet. I read for a while and tried to watch TV. Nothing held my attention. I was finally desperate enough to clean my room. Turning my music on loud, the way I always cleaned, I got busy. An hour later, my room was spotless. It was time I got out of the house. Walking outside, I was surprised to see my grandmother raking in the yard. “You’re back?”
She looked up at me. “Sure, sweetie. We got back about an hour ago. You looked so busy in your room, so we didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Where’s Mom?” I asked. Since she went out this morning, I hoped that meant her migraine was gone.
The smile vanished from Grandma Mary’s face. “She’s sleeping in her room. Her head started bothering her again about an hour ago.”
I dug my toe into a small mound of upturned earth, swallowing the heavy lump in my throat. “I’m going to check on her,” I said, without looking up. I knew if I met my grandmother’s eyes, I would cry.
“Okay, honey. Let me know if she needs anything.”
Heading toward my mom’s room, I was lost in my own thoughts. As I neared her door, I paused and listened. How odd. I heard two voices coming from her room—hers, of course, and a deeper, male voice. It sounded familiar. I couldn’t quite place it. I knew it wasn’t my grandfather. I stepped closer, taking care to avoid the squeaky board in the middle of the hall, and came up short just outside of her room where I wouldn’t be seen.
“…Sharon, love, I would have come sooner, but I wasn’t sure how you were going to react…”
“How I was going to react? You’ve been gone for seventeen years, David. You left me with our infant daughter. I knew, of course I knew, the possibility was there that you were going to leave me. I’d hoped that my love for you, our love for each other, was enough to keep you here.”
“I never promised you anything, Sharon. In fact, if you recall, I warned you before we ever got involved.”
Silence ensued. As I waited for my mom’s response, I realized I was holding my breath, so I let it out in a quiet gush. The mysterious male voice was David. He was here, in our house, in broad daylight, visiting my mother. I wasn’t sure what to do, but something told me this was not the time to pop in and say ‘hello’. Curiosity got the better of me, and I waited silently, my back against the wall, to see what would be revealed.
Finally, my mom spoke. “You were right, of course.”
“Do you think that I don’t know my own nature?” His voice sounded sad. “If I could change things, change who I am, you know that I would. I would have liked to have been there for you both.” I heard something hit a wall with force, and I cringed. “Damn it, Sharon! Why did you have to take her to the mainland? Why did you hide her from me?”
“Do you have to ask?” Mom’s reply was so quiet that I barely heard it.
“Am I that much of a beast?” David asked. Hearing the tone of his voice, I pictured a sneer marring his face. “Do you think I would steal our daughter from you?”
“I didn’t think you would intentionally, but what about her? What would her choice have been?” I had to strain to hear my mom now. Without thinking, I had moved so close that I was within the doorframe and able to see my mom sitting on her bed, her back to David. He stared at her with a dark expression on his face.
“What if she had left me as you did?” Mom’s voice was little more than a whisper. I made out the words, but didn’t understand what she was saying. I was only a baby. Why would I have left her? How could I have left her?
Whatever I missed, David understood. His face softened and he dropped to her side, placing his hands on her face. “Oh, Sharon, is that what has worried you all these years? That she would come with me of her own free will?”
Mom nodded, closing her eyes tight. It didn’t stop the tears from escaping. “I couldn’t bear it, David. I couldn’t lose her, too.”
He kissed her, and she clung to him as if her life depended on it. I turned away. It was a private moment. Why did Mom worry that I would leave her? I would never leave her. She was everything to me. I walked back outside. I’d heard enough for one day.
Grandma Mary looked up as I came out. “How is she?”
“Resting peacefully,” I lied. I worried that something on my face or in my posture would give me away. My grandmother merely nodded and turned back to clearing the dead stems out of her flowerbed. I started past her, down the driveway.
“Wherever you’re headed, Meara, be back in about two hours for dinner.”
“I will,” I called back, although that was a good question. Where was I headed? I didn’t know where to go. This was turning out to be a strange day. I wanted to think more about my mom and David’s conversation. I had no idea where to start. I was trying to put together a puzzle that was missing all the center pieces. Sure, I had the border more or less figured out, but the whole picture, the main part of it, was a mystery.
Evan wasn’t coming over tonight, and Katie was either at work or hanging out with Brian. I was on my own.
I realized that I was heading down the path to the shoreline. Apparently, some part of my brain knew where I wanted to go. When I realized it, I quickened my pace. The brush cleared and I stood before a mile or two of rocky shore, the large stones smoothed by water over time. The sun, low on the horizon, bathed the ocean in fiery shades of red and orange. The scene staggered me—the rough, natural beauty of it. There was no one else in sight.
I sat on a large, flat boulder. Leaning back, I rested on my elbows, staring off at the roughest waves. That was when I saw it—a large, grey seal sitting on the edge of the shore. It looked at me with its enormous, wise eyes. As I watched, it nodded as if in greeting. Had I not been alone, I would have felt silly. Seeing as no one else was here to witness, I nodded back. It stretched its neck out and barked. Was it talking to me? No, I was being ridiculous. As we watched each other, I couldn’t help feeling a connection to the magnificent animal.
I rose and approached. It watched me cautiously. When I got within five feet, it turned and slid into the sea. I stood for a moment, feeling a profound sense of loss. I didn’t understand the feeling, but it was there nonetheless. I watched until the sky darkened to a brilliant pink purple. The seal didn’t return. With a sigh, I headed home.