Ava Comes Home (33 page)

Roger became a close friend and they formed a strong bond. They were lucky enough to get jobs almost immediately after coming home. That's when he made plans to build his own house. His father's drinking made life at home unpleasant and he wasn't prepared to put up with it any more.

He'd drive out this way time and time again, always gravitating towards the beach where he and Libby had been together. When a piece of property came up for sale, he went straight to the bank for a loan and bought it. His parents were concerned that it was out in the sticks and he'd get tired of being isolated. What they didn't know was that this was the one place that gave him the most comfort. Looking out over their beach was a touchstone for him. It meant she was real. She wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Of course, they never knew that.

And now what was he to do? How could he help her? He was adrift in uncertainty. This was something that was too big for him and he knew it. All he could do was hope that his love for her would eventually make everything all right. But who was he kidding?

He must have dozed off in the chair, because he didn't hear her until she had her hand on his shoulder. His eyes flew open and he sat up straight. “Is everything okay?” He shook his head to chase away the cobwebs.

“Hold me.”

Holding out his arms, she crawled into his lap. She still had on his t-shirt. She snuggled under his chin and he put his hand over her hair to get it out of her face, then kissed the top of her scalp and pulled her tighter.

“I slept for a long time, didn't I?”

“Yes. I'm glad you did. Do you feel a little better?”

She nodded. They didn't speak for a few minutes.

“Thank you for being there last night.”

“I should've been there ten years ago.”

She lifted her face and placed her finger against his lips. “Shhh, I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to ruin today, too.”

He kissed the pad of her finger. “Okay.”

They sat and let the early morning breeze bring the smell of the ocean to them. The sound of the surf soothed them. She pointed at an eagle flying by in search of prey. They watched it until it disappeared from sight.

Everything was all right in the natural world that morning. Maybe the sense of calm and normalcy could infect their spirits too. The sound of chickadees and crows, blue jays and squirrels. There was even a woodpecker nearby. When he tap-tap-tapped on the tree, they looked at each other and grinned. Then Seamus's cat made an appearance, coming home after a hunting raid, no doubt. He strolled up the deck stairs and seemed surprised at the company.

“Hi Dexter. Any mice left in the neighbourhood?”

Dexter sat, blinked and then yawned. He plunked on the deck and rolled over a few times. He stayed on his back for a minute, but apparently no one was interested in giving him a belly rub, so he pretended he wanted to lie like that anyway. He dozed off.

“I wish I was a cat,” she said.

“I'd rather be a dog.”

“But a cat doesn't need anyone for their emotional well-being. They're happy as they are.”

“You're right. We dogs are a desperately needy lot.”

She threw back her head and laughed. It was a wonderful sound. She hugged him. “I love you.”

Seamus didn't mean to do it. It just happened. He felt himself losing control and he didn't have the strength to keep his arms around her. He leaned against her and let the tears fall as she held him tight.

“I'm sorry.”

“Shhh.”

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.”

“It's not your fault.”

“I should have come after you. I should've tracked you down and found you. But instead I let you suffer alone. I'll never forgive myself for that.”

“We were kids, Seamus. We were just kids.”

“I should've known you'd never leave without saying goodbye.”

She wiped his face with the end of the shirt she was wearing. He put his head back against the chair and looked up at the sky. “I can't believe this happened to us. Why?”

“Why does anything happen? Why did Sally die? Life is good and bad, beautiful and ugly. It's all a game of chance.”

He looked at her. “I want to give us a chance again. Is that possible?” She got out of his lap then and walked over to the edge of the deck. She leaned against it and looked out over the water. “I think we need time, Seamus. And time is our enemy at the moment.”

He got out of the chair and came up behind her, putting his arms around her. “We love each other. That's all that matters.” She was still. He was afraid he'd said the wrong thing.

“If only it were that simple.”

He turned her around. “Be with me. Let me show you.”

“I do want to, but…”

“Trust me.”

She looked at him and nodded ever so slightly. He picked her up and carried her into the house. He took her back to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. Her legs were bare and his t-shirt was so big it fell off her shoulders. She got up on her elbows. “I don't want to disappoint you.”

“In a million years, that would never happen. Believe me. I just need to touch your skin.”

He got down beside her in the bed and gathered her into his arms. She fit perfectly. They held each other for a long time before he gathered up the courage to kiss her. And the minute he did, he knew he was in trouble. It was one thing to kiss her on the porch or in a car, but to have her lying next to him was a completely different sensation. As his hand traveled under her t-shirt and felt the warmth of her satin skin, he knew he was lost. Too quickly he pushed her shirt up, and the sight of her naked body was too much. He stopped.

She opened her eyes. “Seamus?”

At that moment, he knew he couldn't control himself. He was terrified of making love to her. He turned his head and rested his cheek on her stomach. His face rose and fell with her breathing.

“Seamus?”

“I can't. I can't do this. I'm going to hurt you.”

“No, you're not.”

“I have to stop. You have to believe me.” He pushed off her and, without looking back, walked out of the room. He went into the bathroom and turned on the tap, dousing his face with cold water before leaning over the sink and letting the water drip. He didn't know when he'd felt so miserable in his own body. It was at war with his mind and he wanted it to end. And now he didn't know how to go out and face her. His head pounded and his throat was parched. Maybe he was coming down with something. He felt sick, very sick.

And suddenly he was. He didn't make it to the toilet. He vomited all over the bathroom floor. Again and again, his stomach tried to get rid of the agony of the last twenty-four hours.

He heard the door open and she stood there in her bare feet.

“Seamus.”

“Please, please leave me alone. I'll be okay. I just need a min—” He spewed over the floor again. “Go.”

She shut the door. He bent over with his hands on his knees, saliva hanging down from his lips. He waited to see if that was it. He had to keep swallowing. She knocked on the door.

“What?”

“Seamus, do you need me?”

“No. Please. It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“Yes. I'll be better then. Come tomorrow.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I know. I…” He never got to finish his sentence. He was sick once more.

He eventually started to feel better once all that misery was on the floor instead of in him. He brushed his teeth and took great gulps of mouthwash to rid himself of the taste. It took him a long time to clean it up and by the time he was done, he was exhausted, so he limped into the shower and stayed there, letting the water pound the back of his neck and his shoulders. When there was no hot water left, he got out and, still wearing the damp towel, stretched across the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

At around suppertime the phone rang and woke him up. He wasn't sure where he was at first. He grabbed the phone. Maybe it was Libby.

“Hello?”

“Hi Seamus, it's me.”

“Oh, hi.”

“Listen, I didn't hear from you so I wondered if you wanted me to keep the kids again tonight?”

“I'm sorry, I should've called. I've been in bed all day. I think I have the flu.”

“Oh dear. Well, obviously I better keep the kids for another night.”

“That would really be a help. I think I'll stay in bed and try to get some rest.”

“You do that. Lots of liquids now. And if your temperature goes up, you can always take Tylenol or something.”

“I know, I know.”

“Okay, well, if you're sure you're all right.”

“I am. I'll call you if I need you. I promise.”

“Okay then. Oh, Sarah wants to say something.”

“Okay.”

“Hi Daddy.”

“Hi baby. Are you being good for Aunt Colleen?”

“Yeah.”

“Daddy misses you.”

“Me you too.”

“Is Jack there?”

“No. He baseball.”

“Okay, don't call him in. Give Aunt Colleen the phone and I'll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“Too.”

“Hello…did you want me to call Jack in? He's playing outside.”

“No. Just tell him I'll probably see him tomorrow.”

“Okay, dear. Love ya.”

“Love you too.”

He hung up the phone and lay on the bed for another hour at least, not thinking of anything. Then he got up and put his bathrobe on. He was hungry but he wasn't. In the end he had some cereal. He fed Dexter then he went back to bed and turned on the TV. It was still on when he woke up the next morning.

Seamus felt much better because he knew she was coming today. They'd be able to talk about things more rationally. It had been too emotional to make any sense of anything before, but now that they had a chance to go away and think it would be easier.

He got dressed, tidied up, and made lunch. If it was like before, she'd come after she'd spent the morning with her aunt and uncle. He didn't want to think about it being her last day, had to put it right out of his mind. He wanted her to see that he looked a little more normal today.

The first hour after lunch he laughed to himself, because she was always late. The second hour he was concerned about her. Maybe her family found out where she was last night and were giving her a hard time. The third hour he thought maybe he'd pushed her too hard. He shouldn't have asked her to marry him, should have waited to make love to her. The fourth hour he still knew she was coming because she'd never leave again without saying goodbye.

At eight o'clock that night, he called the MacKinnon house.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is Libby there?”

“Why no. She's gone. Flew to New York today.”

That wasn't right.

“She was supposed to be leaving tomorrow.”

“I know. We were pretty surprised and sorry to see her go. It's been such fun, but she told us her agent called and said she had to leave today.” He held the phone to his ear and breathed into it.

“Who's calling, please? Would you like to leave a message?”

He couldn't move.

“Seamus? Is that you?”

He hung up the phone.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

She didn't blame him. He had every right to be sick. Sick about what she'd told him, sick at the thought of making love to her, knowing that she'd been used like tissue and tossed aside. Ava knew exactly how he felt. She'd felt it herself for years. What made her feel guilty was that he tried so hard for her. A loving and caring man who tried to help her but in the end couldn't mask his true feelings. They were plain to see splattered on the bathroom floor.

She had to go. It would be fairer in the end to step out of his life and let him get on with his. She knew he'd be upset for a while and then angry with her, but anger was good. Maybe anger would allow him to pick up the pieces of his life and move on. She refused to hurt him anymore. Loving him was a beautiful dream that would simply never come true.

The twenty-minute drive into Glace Bay was spent preparing for her role as loving niece and sister without a care in the world—who'd come back for Christmas and maybe even Easter, if her schedule allowed.

She drove into the yard and waved to Geranium, then took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen. “I'm home.”

Uncle Angus was rocking in the rocking chair. He looked up from the paper. “Hello darlin'.”

She bounced over and kissed him. “Hi. What's new with the state of the world?”

“Nothin' that a good kick in the arse wouldn't cure.”

Aunt Vi came out of the pantry. “Good morning, honey. Did Rose give you breakfast?”

“You know Rose. I couldn't leave without stuffing my face.”

Her aunt came over to her and lifted her chin with the crook of her finger. “You look peaked. You have bags under your eyes. Did you get enough sleep last night?”

“We were up pretty late, you know…girl talk.”

“Hmm.”

“I think I'll go have a shower.”

“Okay, dear. Should be some hot water left.”

She went upstairs and closed the bedroom door. Her clothes were as she'd left them before she went to him last night. Was it only last night or was it a thousand years ago? The shower beckoned because she had to think. By the time she was done she had a plan. But of course it would depend on whether she could keep from going out of her mind.

Back in the bedroom she picked up the cell phone and called Air Canada. There was a plane out of Sydney in the morning so she booked a first-class ticket to New York. Time to call her agent.

“Hi Trent.”

“Good God, she's alive!”

“Sort of.”

“You can see I kept my word,” Trent said.

“What?”

“I didn't bug you all summer.”