Dust and Drizzle
The morning when it came matched her mood perfectly. It was overcast and wet, just enough wet to be considered a drizzle, not even enough vigor to be a real rain. She practically yanked the curtain back over the window as she turned to dress for the day. Their last day at the cottage. The last day in the village, in Ireland, at least for her. She had never thought it possible that she would not want to be in Ireland. It was one place where she had always felt more alive, but now, after everything, she just wanted to leave. Insane things did not tend to happen in the States, perhaps the country just did not have the temperament for it. Well, that was not precisely true, she mused as she pulled on her jeans. Insane things did happen, but they were predictable by most standards. Some psycho would decide it was time to end his life and that would not be enough, so a gun would burst out on a campus or in a fast food restaurant, even a church. That was definitely insane. But it was leagues away from what her family had experienced. Who would ever believe her boys if they told them that they had spent most of their holiday in Ireland cast in the form of Irish wolfhounds? What if she even tried to explain what had happened to her when she and Roary had gone off alone to the fort? She shook her head; she did not want to remember that or anything else that came along with that name attached. Picking up her pace, she pulled on her sweater, ran a brush through her hair and went to wash her face and brush her teeth before starting the breakfast. Their last here at the cottage. "Ugh, I have to stop it with this last stuff, or I'll drive myself mad," she thought. "Someone would think I don't want to get out of this place." She ran the cold tap and splashed it on her face, gasping when it hit her.
In the kitchen she cooked up the rest of the eggs, a full rasher of bacon, the couple of bangers they still had and grilled some tomatoes. Fiona wandered in and set the kettle on for tea, turning to slice the brown bread without a word, knowing that the quiet was as much a good morning as needed between them. Eventually the smell of the food brought Sean out of the room, followed shortly by Ian.
"Try not to cook the bacon too crisp for Ian," said Sean.
Lin turned with a raised brow, but pulled several pieces out and set them aside for Ian. "Ian, have you thought about what you plan to take home to Emma? I know you haven't really spoken with her as you planned, so you might need to upgrade whatever you had planned," Lin tossed casually over her shoulder, praying silently that Ian would answer. There were a few beats of silence though and no answer. She let her shoulders drop as she removed the rest of the food from the fire.
She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt the hand on her shoulder. Spinning with the spatula still in her hand and almost hitting the side of Ian's head as she did so. He just looked at her a moment, took the kitchen implement and set it aside and then hugged her. A long full hug that somehow she took to mean that he had heard her even if he wasn't answering. Then he stepped around her and picked up the platters, one with the meat, the other with the eggs, potatoes and tomatoes and took them to the table. Sean followed with a stack of plates and a glass full of silverware. Fiona was right behind him, one hand with a platter of slathered brown bread, the other carrying the teapot, its scent of breakfast tea adding to the parade in a fine wisp of smoke. Lin picked up the cups for the tea and followed them a bit more at ease with the day.
It was a good breakfast and everyone helped with cleaning up. Lin took down the last unopened bottle of wine and wrapped a ribbon on it with a note for the landlord to thank him for the space. It may not have been the trip they had planned. But they had survived and they were together, and it was hardly the landlord's fault for the the troubles they experienced.
She asked the boys to lay out the travel clothes for the morning and put together their packs and went to do her own. She was not sure what they would do with the rest of their day. Perhaps they could drive a bit and see something that did not involve swans, silks or the Sidhe. Fiona came in and sat on the edge of the bed.
"I was wondering what you planned to do with the day today?"
"I thought we might drive a bit, see what there is to see that does not have anything to do with our travails of late."
"Oh, I had thought you might want to take the boys into town again. They should probably stop and see Roary, thank him for all he's done."
"I think they covered that the first night. There is no need to beat a path to Mr. James's door."
"It's Mr. James now?"
"Yes, I suppose it is. Well, I think I have this well in hand. How about you?"
"Change in topic? I guess I should check just to make sure I have what I want for the plane, then I will be ready to go," Fiona gave her daughter a long look as she left the room. She was not at all comfortable with the rigidity of Lin's stance. She had seen that before and had not liked it then either.
Lin finished and made her way to the boys' room. She placed a hand on the door and spun in with a determined smile on her face. Sean and Ian were sitting on a bed together, heads bent.
"Am I interrupting something?"
They jumped away from each other as if a snake had been dropped on them. Which was actually saying quite a bit given how much Sean disliked snakes. Sean turned and started to push something into his suitcase as Ian moved to stand in front of him.
"Don't think I can't see that you are trying to put something in that case that you don't want me to see. Pull it out, Sean, and hand it over."
Ian turned and looked at his brother. Sean nodded to him. It seemed that whatever it was, Sean was telling Ian it was okay that Lin had asked for it. This silence thing was actually pretty creepy at times, thought Lin. Sean turned back to the suitcase and pulled out a pillowcase-wrapped object, handing it to his mother.
Lin took it, her hand starting to quiver as she felt the heft and shape of it. She knew what it was immediately. "Bloody damn hell," she fired under her breath. "Sean, you and Ian are going to have to take this back to the book shop. It is far too expensive a book for you to keep and I am certain it was a loan."
"No, Ma, Roar..., Mr. James said the other night, after everything that happened, I could keep it," Sean replied, a question in his words.
"It's not right for you to keep something like this and you know that. You have to take this back. Your Nana and I are planning to go for a bit of a tour today, so don't spend much time. Just go and thank him for his offer and get back, is that clear?"
"Yes, but it was a gift. Isn't it rude to give a gift back?"
"Not when the gift was given in the heat of the moment. I am sure that the man has come to his senses by now and realizes that he gave you far too expensive an item. If he offers you a reasonable gift, that's fine, but I expect you to know the difference."
The boys put on their jackets and shoes, tucked the book in a bag rather than the pillowcase and set off to the village. Lin and Fiona watched them from the cottage.
"I can't believe you are letting them go on their own," remarked Fiona.
"They have to know I trust them. Otherwise how will they leave the whole experience behind them?
"I guess so, but if it were me, I don't think I would start trusting until we were well away from this village and perhaps even off this island all together."
At the shop the bell rang with a hollow sound. Roary was not up front as one might have expected and the shop felt eerily empty. Ian seemed caught up in the new scent of dust and age that the shop offered and went off into the stacks, while Sean ventured forward toward the office. He found Roary clutching a tea cup and staring at its now empty bottom.
"Excuse me, Mr. James?"
"Sean?"
"I think so," Sean smiled.
"I thought ye and yer family would be leaving today."
"Our flight is late enough tomorrow that we can drive to the airport then. Nana doesn't want to stay in a hotel."
"Och, well then, what can I do for ye."
"Well, I think that might be a bit complicated. I don't have a lot of time, but I need to ask you something. If you will help me," Sean looked at him, his chocolate eyes pleading.
"Well, I'll be needin to know what ye want first."
Then Sean sat and with the book cradled in his arms, he told him. He told him everything, about fighting the old hound and mating with Cait; coming to be truly mated. He spent time detailing how he felt about watching his pups grow in her. Then he told Roary about needing to run with his brother and about knowing that she had birthed two pups just before he had been forced back into this world. He was crying by then, not loud sobs, just silent tears that streaked down his cheeks. Roary handed him a handkerchief, struck by how much the boy had been through. He was so young to be carrying the burdens of a full grown man.
"I just want to know if you will look out for them. I mean, I know they are not likely to be here, but maybe they might be in one of your books someday. I have a feeling they might be worthy of a book; they are special, I think, part human, part wolfhound. I may never get to be the father I wanted to be, but I can't help wanting to know what happens to them and to her."
Roary ran his hand through the boy's hair. "Ye are so young. Aye, I'll read all I can on the subject to see what I can find."
Sean smiled up at him, thrusting his parcel into Roary's hand. "My mom said I couldn't keep something so valuable. I am very glad you let me read it though. I slipped my address and phone numbers at home and at school inside. If you find anything, will you promise to get in touch with me?"
Roary pulled out the book and slipped out the page with Sean's tight script on it. "I wish ye could keep the book, but I ken what your mother is sayin. Aye, I'll contact ye if I find anything. But don't go gettin all disappointed if it takes awhile. There's quite a bit of research to get through."
"I'll try not to, but you could write, or call, just to do it, too. If you want to," Sean and Roary rose when Ian stepped in, somehow covered in dust.
"What the devil did ye get yerself into, lad?" laughed Roary.
Ian just shook himself vigorously as if somehow that would clean him fully. Instead it sent a fine spray into the air. When the dust settled, all three occupants of the little room looked like they had been standing still in time, just letting the dust have its way.
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