Certain Sure (12 page)

“Who he’s been hurting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s all over,” Katie said.

“I wish your dad was my dad.”

“No,” Katie said in a hoarse voice.

“Sorry, I don’t see why you’d care. You don’t seem to like him much.”

Katie kept crying. Fin didn’t even care that then she wouldn’t have been born, or they might then be brother and sister. The way he’d kissed her, made her feel, she couldn’t be that stupid. Or maybe she was that dumb.

“Please stop crying,” he said as they pulled up to her house. Katie opened the door, jumping from the car as soon as he stopped. She tripped on the curb, but managed to catch herself on the fence. She ran into the side yard.

“Katie!” Fin shouted. His voice echoed in the still midnight. He approached her as she fumbled for her keys. “Let me.” He tried to take her keys. His hand was warm, a little rough. He stood so close, she leaned into his chest. The light above the door shone across them. Katie wanted darkness. She moved toward the fence. Fin grasped her arm.

“Let go. You wish I was never born,” Katie said.

“No.” He brushed her cheeks with his fingers. Warmth sizzled through her.

      Katie gazed up at him. She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh Fin,” she said before she kissed him. She tried to open her lips to his, ran her hands down his chest, she needed him to want her. He wasn’t responding. She pressed herself closer to him.

“Katherine Dillon!” a voice boomed from on high. Katie moaned. Fin tensed further, pushed her away before he took her arm and led her to the door. “Bring her up here.”

Fin opened the door and pulled Katie along as he went across the kitchen, the front entry, up the stairs, down the hall to her parents’ room. He knocked on the door. Katie’s stomach rumbled and rolled.

“Come in.”

Fin opened the door. Her dad sat in his chair while her mom, robe on, perched on the edge of the bed. Katie rocked, unsteady when Fin distanced himself from her.

“What’s all this? I heard you, Fin. When I got up to look out…I don’t like what I saw.”

“I’m sorry, Pat. She called me from Aleen’s, said she needed a ride.”

“Damn Aleen, getting my little girl drunk. I should apologize to you for her behavior. Still, is there something going on I should know about?”

“No,” Fin said.

Katie groaned and ran to her parent’s bathroom. Her mother followed behind her, holding Katie’s hair. “Fin,” Katie said.

“He didn’t see. I shut the door,” her mom said, helping Katie up, wiping her face with a cool cloth. “Let’s get you to bed.” She opened the door a crack. “Fin gone?”

“Yes,” her dad answered. “What’s wrong with you, girl?” he said as Katie followed her mom out.

“Not now, Pat,” her mom said. “In the morning.”

Katie slowly blinked her eyes open the next morning, noticing the light filtering in through the curtains seemed very bright. Her mouth felt heavy but overall she didn’t feel as bad as she thought she might. As she dressed after showering, she looked at the clock. It was already almost eleven in the morning. Katie couldn’t remember ever sleeping that late before; she had missed church. Then she recalled everything her aunt told her, the scenes with Fin, each piece coming to her like the light through the curtains. How could she ever face him again, or any of the Dunbars?

“There she is,” her dad said when she plodded into the kitchen. He sat at the banquette with a mug by his elbow as he read the paper. He folded it slowly, placing it on the table.

“Good morning,” her mom said, handing Katie toast on a plate, which Katie put on the table before she sat down.

“Thanks, mom.” Katie crunched the toast. The noise of it competed with her father’s fingers drumming on the tabletop. She drank a couple glasses of water, all the while avoiding her dad’s eyes.

“Done?” he asked. Katie nodded.

“Care to explain your behavior? I guess it’s a good thing you broke your engagement if that’s how you act. But Fin, of all people. He’s Fergus’s brother and you two have to work together at the pub, at least until I get this damn cast off.”

“I thought he was Michael?”

“This isn’t a joke, Katie. What the hell was Aleen thinking?”

“Giving us courage for the sordid story of the Dillons and Dunbars.” Katie’s stomach clenched. She shoved her plate away.

“What does that mean?”

“She told me about you and Mary, about James Dunbar--”

“She had no right.”

“I’m twenty-four, Dad, old enough to hear the truth.”

“The truth as she sees it.”

“You and Mary had a baby together. I had another sister.” A sister who died at three in a car crash with her father’s brother.

“We won’t talk about this.” His face twisted, red with fury.

“And your brother, you never mentioned him. Most people know about their relatives, even the dead ones.”

“Mavis, you deal with her.” He clenched his jaw, not acknowledging Katie as he grabbed his crutches and swung out of the room.

“Why did Aleen tell you now? I have a mind to call her,” her mom said. She tapped a mug of tea next to Katie’s hand on the table.

“Maybe you should.” Katie smoothed her hands around the warm cup. Tea, milky and sweet, her mom’s solution for all upset and anger.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“She knew I’d be wondering after seeing her and Mr. Dunbar together.”

“What? Oh no. Poor Mary. What are they thinking?”

“Mary knows. You must have suspected. I didn’t say how I saw them. She says it’s over now, so that’s that. Doesn’t explain why Dad never told me about my uncle or sister.”

“Mary knows? How long? Never mind. You don’t need to know everything. It’s painful for your father. It’s best left in the past, though I gather Aleen hasn’t left things. Always better to keep on the road taken and not look back. That’s how you get lost.”

“Or how you find your way home. She loves Mr. Dunbar.” Katie propped up an elbow and leaned her head on her hand. Her aunt’s story disturbed her in many ways. Not the least of which was the similarity of her aunt’s feelings for Mr. Dunbar and Katie’s toward Fin: disregarding all reason, a dangerous, reckless love. A love Katie chose to ignore, to run away from, as her aunt had Mr. Dunbar because her head told her what her heart wanted was the wrong choice. But their flashes, visions, spoke a different truth.

“I’m going to call her.” Her mom sighed. “Please, Katie, try with your dad. He’s got enough to worry about.”

“I could help, if he’d only let me.”

“You have a good heart, but you need to learn to meet people halfway. Then, slowly, you can change things. I’ll be on the phone a while. Don’t forget we’re going to the Dunbars’ at four.” Her mom stood, rubbing her arms. “Katie, are you sure there’s nothing you’d like to tell me about you and Fin?”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Not according to Fin. Her mom sighed again. Katie’s stomach fell as she watched her walk out. Her throat hurt with the sting of disappointment, her own and her parents’ in her.

Chapter Eleven

Fin walked into his parents’ living room. Katie stood dwarfed by the cold fireplace, her cheeks pink when she glanced at him. He’d hoped to see her at church this morning, but she hadn’t been there. Probably she didn’t drink very often so she’d be suffering the effects today.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked after making his way to her.

“Okay, thanks. I’m sorry. I act like that when I get drunk. I’m not easy, though.”

“No, sure and you’re not,” Fin replied. Maybe he had Katie all wrong. Maybe she only looked innocent, with her childlike gaze and smattering of light freckles across her pert nose. Why did it matter? The pit in his stomach told him it did, even if his mind told him it shouldn’t.

He strode away as Rose burst into the room, his parents following. Fin spun Rose around, feeling himself smile as Rose shrieked in delight. She let out another shout when Maureen and Fergus opened the door ten minutes later; greetings and hugs were exchanged.

Katie stood with his mom, Maureen, and Rose when Fergus pulled him into the far corner.

“What’s going on?” Fergus whispered.

“You know as much as I do,” Fin said.

“I see how you’re watching Katie.”

Fin glanced around the room. His father sat talking to Mavis while Pat hunched in a wing chair, frowning. “She had a rough night last night. I was concerned, that’s all. We work together, you know.”

“I know you never want to tell me anything. I don’t think you talk to anyone, not about what matters. I’ll tell you what I did when Katie first came into our family: don’t bother her. I’m bigger than you now, too.” Fergus grinned but his eyes shone with the determination of their father and grandfathers. Fergus would trash himself, but he wouldn’t let anyone hurt the people he loved.

“I’ll always be your big brother,” Fin said. Though guilty pins pricked, he smiled and clapped Fergus on the back. Fergus was about to speak but their mom called everyone for dinner.

As they went into the dining room, Fin noticed his father seemed uncomfortable, fine beads of sweat on his brow. He was usually cool and collected. His silence, unusual around Pat, pushed an edge of worry into Fin.

Fergus, Maureen, Rose, and Pat talked enough for the rest of them. Fin sat shoving his food around his plate, while his dad and Mavis looked preoccupied and his mom glanced around concernedly. Katie didn’t eat much either. She must have some hangover.

“Is Aunt Aleen out this evening?” Maureen asked. “She’d be sorry to miss this cherry cake. It’s her favorite as well.”

Fin watched Katie as she glanced at his father. Her brow furrowed as he rubbed his chest, obviously pained. Maybe his father had heartburn from all the stress he put himself under, no joy in his life. Fin’s hands clenched. Where was the joy in his own life?

“Shall we take coffee in the living room?” his mom asked. Everyone rose and followed her out. Maureen held a bouncy Rose on her lap while the rest took seats around the room, except his father, who stood by the window, frowning. Fergus approached their father. Fin listened.

“Dad, are you all right?”

“Just a little uncomfortable. Maybe I should go lie down,” he said.

“Maureen and I should get Rose home anyway. Will you call if you need anything?”

Their father nodded as Fergus patted his back. The rest of them kissed and hugged the three. Katie’s parents motioned to her as they all waited in the hall once Maureen and Fergus were gone, a protesting Rose in tow. Before Katie could walk to join her parents, Fin’s father sat on the stair, clutching his chest.

“James!” his mom said, standing still.

Fin ran to his father. “Dad, what is it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, chest pain, I can’t talk.”

“Katie, call an ambulance,” Fin said. Fin’s chest tightened but he stayed steady.

“No, I’ll be okay,” his dad said. His breathing seemed an effort.

“Oh God,” his mom said. Katie’s parents surrounded her. She leaned on Katie’s dad.

“It’ll be faster to drive him to the emergency,” Katie said to Fin.

Fin almost lifted his father up and led him to the door. “Mom, he might need you.” Fin was not going to panic. He was not letting his father get away with dying on them.

“Mavis, call Aleen, please. She should meet us there,” his mom said.

“What’s she got to do with anything?” Fin asked, looking back at his mother while Katie held the door for him. His mom shook her head, tears coursed down her cheeks.

“I will, Mary,” Mavis said. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” his mom said as she followed them out. She grabbed Katie’s hand. “Please come too, Katie,” she whispered. Katie glanced at her parents, who nodded.

“You call us,” Pat said, hugging Mavis to his side. She kissed him and went into the living room. Katie followed them to his dad’s car.

“Let Katie drive,” his mom said as Fin helped his dad in. Fin jumped into the passenger seat. Katie slid into the driver’s seat, her hands shook while his mom sat behind her. Something was wrong, more than the immediate crisis.

“Why did you tell Mavis to call Aleen?” Fin said with his body turned so he could see his mother.

“She needs to be there. Oh, James, I’m so sorry. I should have let you go. Now your heart has broken and it’s all my fault. I’ve been so selfish.” His father shook his head.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Fin said.

“Not… Katie,” his father said. His voice sounded tight, his breathing ragged.