Learning to Swim (19 page)

He laughed. “It doesn’t need to be,” he said. “You know half the people here already. I can give you the lowdown on anybody you don’t know.” He came up to stand next to me so we could face the others and point. I played along and let him explain the most infamous of the locals.

He pointed out his mother, his father, a few people I would never remember, a few Johnson children, and I added my own commentary to them all. Spiked or not, the punch was doing its job; I was talking more than I intended.

“All these people celebrate Loo—uh …?” I trailed off.

He laughed. “L
ú
nasa.” He pronounced it
LOO-nah-suh
. “And no, as far as I know, nobody in Oyster Beach knows what L
ú
nasa is. Or anyone in Ireland, for that matter. It’s a really ancient Celtic holiday. It’s more of a way for my parents to remind people they’re Irish.”

I glanced toward where Mrs. O’Brien was unloading more food from a trolley onto the long table near the back of the office building. Aidan stood nearby, helping. “So what
is
L
ú
nasa?”

“It was a harvest festival. It marked the beginning of the harvest season. They celebrated the god Lugh and all the food the Earth gave them. It was apparently a really crazy party. Poetry, music, games, dancing—all the modern makings of a party, at least. They also had this weird tradition called … damn, what were they called? I don’t remember, but they were these trial marriages. Kind of like a blind marriage, a guy and a girl would hold hands through a wooden door, and they’d be married that way. But the marriage only lasted a year and a day, then they could both walk away from it. Like a trial run.” He seemed to become embarrassed all of a sudden.

“With today’s divorce rate, that could probably help America a bit,” I said.

He grinned. “Sorry, I was rambling.”

A loud booming laugh broke through our little world on the side of the patio.

“That really loud guy is Captain Harville,” Rory said, as if to change the subject. “He’s the head of the local police.” The cop was boisterous and friendly, and when he noticed Rory pointing toward him, he bounded over.

“Miss Manchester! How are you doing?”

“I’m good, officer; thanks,” I said.

Rory looked at me, perplexed.

“How nice of you to join us!” Captain Harville exclaimed. He carried a plastic cup filled with a golden-brown liquid. It smelled like something my dad kept in a cupboard at home. Perhaps whiskey. “You have to meet
everyone
! And, Cora—” Captain Harville’s voice dropped a few decibels, as if in concern for the topic at hand. “You do remember Mr. Hall, don’t you?”

I nodded weakly. A glance told me the old man was still perched on his folding chair in the corner. The sight of him flooded me with pity for Jen Johnson (which was the last thing I wanted to feel right now) and concern for Mrs. O’Leary.

“I’ll just go wave him over—”

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “Please don’t, he looks so comfortable …”

“I was actually just going to show Cora around a bit,” Rory jumped in deftly. I eyed him with adoration. Could it possibly be that he wanted me to himself?

“Oh, all right then,” the big cop’s face fell. “I only mention it because he was asking about you only the other day.”

My cheeks burned. Why on Earth would Mr. Hall do that?

Captain Harville took a sip of his drink, which seemed to reinvigorate him. He became bouncy again and finally left us after eliciting promises of everyone dancing later in the evening.

“How do you know Mr. Hall?” Rory asked when he’d gone. “Or Captain Harville, for that matter?”

“Mr. Hall was the one who … the one to … well, he was the one to help me when I found—I mean—”

But Rory was nodding in understanding. His eyes flicked involuntarily to the corner where Jen Johnson stood amid a gaggle of girls. Did I imagine her eyes were smoldering?

“He also …” I faltered. “He told me a lot about—”

And that’s the unfortunate moment when Mrs. O’Brien approached us to say hello. I was polite, and I was overly friendly, but even when she had wandered away, the chance was gone. It didn’t feel right to talk about Mrs. O’Leary here, among everyone having a wonderful time without her.

Behind me, I heard snorts of derision from Blondie, in response to who-knows-what. It felt unnatural and out of place, her being here.

“You’ll all be going home soon,” Rory said absently.

“That will hardly be a tragedy for you.”

Rory grinned. I loved the way he grinned. The corners of his mouth drew up sharply and his lips grew tight, revealing just the barest hint of white teeth beneath. “I think I’ll miss some people,” he said.

I heard Blondie call my name from somewhere behind me, but I blocked it out.

“Oh?” I said breathlessly.

Rory nodded and was silent a beat before saying, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah?” I was already dreading it. He had a knack for embarrassing me.

“That night at the jetty, why were you crying?” he said. “I mean, you were crying before Princess ever fell in the water.”

I stared at the floor, willing myself to disappear and miraculously reappear somewhere far, far away. Like St. Louis. Or China. Perhaps Jupiter.

“And, I mean, I know I’ve thrown around my fair share of insults,” he went on, “but they never fazed you. And, I do consider myself rather clever. So if my wit couldn’t unsettle you, make you cry—not that I was trying! Anyway, I just … well, I just didn’t know what on earth could get to you like that.”

His insults never fazed me?
If he only knew! I wanted to come up with a really good lie about the tears, but none of them seemed good enough for Rory.

“If you don’t want to tell me,” he finally said, “it’s seriously okay.”

“No, it’s fine,” I said. “I was just having a fight with someone.” My eyes involuntarily flitted in the direction of Owen where he was talking to a group of local girls. To my dismay, Rory followed this.

“Oh,” he said, nodding his head slowly in a Mrs. O’Leary fashion. I watched as Blondie and the bimbo and Benjamin gathered around Owen, looking bored. “So he’s your boyfriend?”

“What? I … no. No, no, he’s not.” I knew I was blushing, but perhaps it was too dark for him to notice. I waited a beat. “Is Jen …?”

“No,” Rory said. “She’s a good friend. The sister type.”

I nodded. What was the appropriate follow-up to such a brazen question as that?

“It looks like that means we’re both free to dance,” Rory said. “That is, if you dance?” My stomach took flight. A slow song had just come on, that was certainly something I could muster up some dancing skills for, at least some mediocre swaying. But Owen suddenly moved in my peripheral vision. He had removed himself from the local girls, and the others were looking around for me.

“Um …”

“Cora!” Blondie was gesturing for me to join her as the others headed for the exit. She looked incredulous that I was taking this long to disengage myself from a local boy. Owen saw her gesturing and his eyes zeroed in on what he could only assume was an unnecessarily long conversation with Rory.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Rory said softly, almost inaudibly.

The little lights were making everything glow in a strangely surreal way. There were lightning bugs dotting the darkness beyond the party, giving the night a soft friendly glow.

But in looking at Owen across the patio, I could hear echoes of my mother’s angry voice.

But
Jesus
! Rory’s eyes were gorgeous.
So big, so brown. So very, very big and brown
.

“I don’t think I can.” I spoke just as quietly as he had.

I turned quickly away, avoiding his magical eyes. I just barely saw him nodding slowly, but I couldn’t bring myself to look back as I joined the others, loitering near the gate. A few were already pushing down the walkway toward the boardwalk. They were loud and unapologetic.

“God that was so boring,” Blondie said.

“Did you see that girl with the pink dress?” the bimbo shrieked. “It looked like a Barbie dress. Seriously, I had one just like it for my Barbies.”

Aidan O’Brien stood leaning against the fence with two other boys I didn’t recognize. I caught him looking at me as we walked past. I walked as quickly as possible out of his sight.

When we reached the boardwalk, I felt it was safe to glance back. Aidan and friends were joining the party again. Rory was standing right where I’d left him, on the edge of the patio, gazing absently into the throng of dancing couples. He had the tiniest trace of a lost smile on his lips, and his hands were resting in his pockets. But the effect was quite different from Owen’s signature stance. Owen always looked like he was posing. Rory looked, well, dejected. And for some twisted reason, this made my stomach do a few happy somersaults.

Ina Coilíneacht

A Colony

Outside on the boardwalk, it became apparent that Benjamin Huston was harboring a great number of beers under his polo shirt. It became apparent because he tripped and they all came spilling out onto the boardwalk with a series of unbroken thuds. He tried to hand the bottles out to the group, but the ones on the ground were already rolling away.

“Shh!” the bimbo spluttered drunkenly.

“You stole their beer?” Owen said. He’d taken the words right out of my mouth. But there was a smile on his face.

“That was really rude,” I said.

Benjamin hadn’t even heard me, but the bimbo was incredulous that I would dare to insult her hero.

“That was rude of
you
to say that,” she shot back.

“I just don’t think you need to steal from people who …” I trailed off.
Who had less than us
.

The unspoken words twisted in my throat. Did I really regard the people back there as a charity case? Rory and his family and his friends and neighbors?

“Who
what
?” the bimbo demanded, daring me to finish that complicated sentence. When I didn’t answer she stalked off ahead of me.

We were passing Mrs. O’Leary’s house, and I slowed unconsciously. The little yellow house was dark. What was she doing in there by herself while the rest of the town was at a party?
She’s nearly always alone. What does she do?

“Hey, forget about it all,” Owen said, breaking into my consciousness. I was obviously trying very hard to do just that. I looked at him blankly. “They’re nice people, and you have a huge heart.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Let’s go have some fun,” he said.

The rest of the group had stopped to wait for us a little ahead, but they were all tangled in their own conversations. Only the bimbo still glared at me between watching Benjamin stumble around as he tried to stand still.

“Hey—Cora.” Owen turned my chin to face him. I was disappointed that he could read my thoughts so clearly. “Forget about them. All of them.” He waved vaguely toward the others. “They’re drunk and annoying, I know. Let’s go back to my place, just you and me.”

I didn’t resist as he steered me after the others. “My parents are gone for the weekend,” he went on. My back stiffened. “You can spend the night, just you and me, and I’ll walk you home in the morning.” I stopped walking.

Was that why he’d been hanging around me all summer? He wanted to sleep with me? Little did he know I was a virgin, one with little experience in any of the romantic arts. And—

“Oh
my
God!” Benjamin yelled. To my utter horror, he had been listening. He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Will you sleep with the guy already? We’ve been listening to him
whining
about it all freaking summer! We’re so
sick
of it!”

A cold crept over my heart as I realized all the thoughts and evenings and laughs I’d wasted on Owen Carlton that summer.
A nice guy
was the conclusion I had drawn.
Different from the others
. When in fact, he had been going around babbling to his friends about how I wouldn’t sleep with him. We weren’t even in a relationship!

Everything in my body froze. I was waiting for Owen to protest, to debunk it as a drunken lie. Or even to half-heartedly tell Benjamin to shut up. Even that would have been enough. But he didn’t.

Instead, he laughed.

I tore away from Owen and stalked away from the group. There was only one way to avoid them: I headed south toward my refuge.

“Cora—Cora, hey—come on, Cora!” Owen called after me.

Benjamin’s voice was the last thing I heard. “Oh, let her go, she’s such a freaking tease.”

At the pier, I sat down right at the edge where it sloped into the water. The surface of the water was rather still in the hot night, but it still lapped gently over the edge and onto my bare legs. The waves were unnaturally warm.

I didn’t want to cry, I had been crying so damn much lately. Which was
not
how it was supposed to be. Rosie had always regarded me as some kind of stonehearted fortress. She was always crying over boys, and I never was. Well this summer would have provided a nice role reversal. I didn’t really think I would cry this time—I wasn’t sad, I was angry.
Angry as hell.
But that just brought angry tears to my eyes. It wasn’t long before I was huffing and heaving, expending most of my energy trying to fight back the tears. For some reason my sorrow always brought me back to Mrs. O’Leary. Visions of dead bodies and seals and ashrays danced before my eyes, mingling with the tears. Selkies and more dead bodies and Jen Johnson.

“Hey, do you have a death wish?”

I nearly toppled off the edge of the pier in fright.

“As I recall, you can’t swim.”

I looked over my shoulder, eyes puffy and nose dripping despite my best efforts. “How do you
do
that?” I demanded. “Whenever I turn into a crumpling mess, whenever I shed a tear—there you are! It’s like you always catch me at my worst!”