The Parting Glass (24 page)

“Well, you were a boy once. That gives you a different kind of advantage. You can tell her what they’re thinking.”

“I can tell her that they
aren’t
thinking, more likely.”

She dried the final dish. Finn washed like a pro, not like most men, who felt that whatever spots or flecks of food they left were good seasoning for the next meal. She was surprised how homey working in the kitchen together felt. He was the most difficult man she’d ever met, at least the most difficult man who had interested her. When he dropped that pose, though—and more and more, she thought it was a pose to keep people at arm’s length—he was warm and funny and intelligent. Those were the big three as far as she was concerned. Four—remarkably attractive—was the bonus that tied the other three together in an irresistible package.

“I owe you an apology.” Finn faced her, leaning against the sink with his arms folded.

She didn’t wave the offer away. Apology was good for the soul—that had been drummed into her by the other stubborn women in her family.

“I reacted badly the night I told you I was an alcoholic. I didn’t want your understanding. I’m still not sure I do, but I do want your forgiveness.”

This, too, was new to her. True, most of the men she’d known had little to apologize for. She had chosen them for the minimum of effort she’d had to put into knowing them. But when they had erred, most of them hadn’t been willing to admit it. Phil, on learning of her pregnancy, had even blamed her for asking him to use a condom instead of taking care of birth control by herself.

“I appreciate the apology, Finn.” She felt she needed to do more. He stood there, proud, alone, arms wrapped around his chest as if he expected her to come after him with her fists.

She took a step and touched his arm, just the lightest touch of her fingertips. It was rock-hard, as much from tension as a working man’s well-developed muscles. “Would you like to go for a walk? I know you have already, you and Kieran. But I’d love to be outside for a little while, just to smell the ocean. I can’t be gone long.”

“It’ll do you good.”

“And how. Just let me get my windbreaker.”

He was waiting outside, stooping and conversing with Banjax, when she joined him. The dog’s head was cocked, as if he was following the topic with interest and just waiting his own turn to respond.

“I see Bridie’s not the only animal lover in the family,” Peggy said.

He got to his feet. “I’m glad Irene took him in. I don’t think Bridie would have forgiven me if his life had ended badly.”

“Irene’s thrilled to have him here, though she’ll never admit it.”

“I’m sure she wonders what will happen to him when she dies.”

It was the second time that day that Irene’s death had been mentioned. From the beginning, Peggy had known that the old woman was dying. But she didn’t want reminders. She wanted to enjoy this unexpected and very welcome link to her ancestors.

“Maybe Irene will outlast Banjax,” Peggy said.

“You were a medical student.” It wasn’t a question.

They started down the lane. There was a well-worn path through the fields that led to a rocky shelf overlooking the ocean, and Peggy planned to take it.

“You’re doing a great deal to make her final days good ones,” Finn said, after they’d made the turn into the field.

She heard the subtext.
Despite what I suspected.
“I think that’s another apology.”

“Not at all. I had every reason to worry about Irene and want to protect her. How could I know you’d turn out to be a blessing, not a curse?”

“I doubt she felt I was much of a blessing this afternoon. Kieran’s behavior was enough to give a healthy woman a heart attack.”

“She relishes having you here. Irene has always been resourceful, and well able to keep herself busy and happy. I think when she was younger, living alone suited her well enough. But now she needs companionship. I’ve tried to tell her that for years.”

“You just didn’t expect the answer to be a young American woman with a difficult toddler.”

“I didn’t.”

“I don’t know what I expected, Finn. I’m normally rational to a fault. I think everything through and act on my conclusions. I believed if I could just get Kieran to myself, if I could just find a way to work with him for hours every single day, that his behavior would shape up, that he’d have a chance at something like a normal life. I didn’t realize what a drain he’d be on me and, I’m afraid, on Irene, as well.”

“You expected him to become normal in a month or two?”

She silently debated the question, but in the end she shook her head. “No. At first I was sure the doctors were wrong. It was his hearing, or attention deficit disorder, or something else we could fix with surgery or medication. But that only lasted a few days. Once I began in-depth reading, I realized the way everything fit together. And the long-range prognosis.”

“There’s a wide range of behaviors, as well as potential.”

“I don’t know what normal means anymore, but I don’t expect his autism to disappear. I know it’s going to be part of who he is for the rest of his life. But there’s hope because we’ve caught it so early. Some autistic kids go on to college, to professions, to marriages. I want the best for him, the best he’s capable of. That’s all.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Finn was the one to break it. “Perhaps I’m out of line here, but I don’t think that’s all you want.” They had reached a group of boulders, Mother Nature’s benches, overlooking the water. Finn put his foot on one and stared out at the ocean. “I think you want to make amends to him.”

She sat on the boulder beside his, but she looked up at him, not at the water. The sun had gone down, and the rising moon was one sliver from being full. Already the countryside was bathed in an heirloom sterling glow. “There’s autism in Phil’s family. He has an autistic brother, who was born two years after he was. Phil’s parents chose to put him in a residential treatment center after the diagnosis was made.”

“Does Phil want the same for his son?”

“Phil can’t articulate his feelings, so I’ll probably never know what he wants. He married last year, and his wife got pregnant immediately. I do know he’s worried that this new child might be autistic, too, even though researchers haven’t completely proved there’s a precise genetic link.”

“He feels guilty about Kieran anyway. Is that what you’re saying? Even if he can’t say so?”

“I think he does.”

“And what is it you feel guilty about, Peggy?”

She had hoped she was steering the conversation away from that. She was surprised he had followed up. “We have mental health issues in our family. I told you about my father. But I don’t have any real reason to think my genes had much to do with it.”

He was silent. She suspected he was waiting.

“I should have been there for him,” she said at last.

“Kieran?”

“I thought I could have it all.” She swivelled to look out over the ocean to Clare Island. “I was going to be Super-Single-Parent, a heroine worthy of her own Marvel Comics series. I finished college while I was pregnant, took a little time off after he was born, then plunged right into medical school. I’d planned to wait a full year, but Kieran was in such good hands. I had family clamoring to take care of him, and he didn’t seem to need me, the way some children do. I thought that was because he’d always had so many people making a fuss over him. And they all adored him. What could be wrong with letting them help?”

“What could be?”

“You’ve been to medical school. I’m sure it’s the same here as it is in the States. All-consuming.”

“I still haven’t caught up on my sleep.”

He was encouraging her to talk. She knew it, and it made her uncomfortable, but still she couldn’t stop. “I wanted to be a good doctor. I tried to spend as much time with Kieran as I could, but my time was limited. And when I was with him, my attention wasn’t focused on him. He didn’t seem to care, and I let that guide me. His needs were being met by people who cherished him, and I was preparing for a career that would support us well. I was even going to find a specialty with regular hours, so that I could be around for those weekend soccer games and Cub Scout campouts.”

“And now you feel guilty about all that time away from him. Even though you know—since you say you’ve done all the research—that children like Kieran are born, not made.”

She was silent, because of course she felt guilty. She had abandoned her son. Yes, to loving caretakers. Yes, in the name of a better future. But she had adored medical school and everything that went with it. As her own child deteriorated, her personal dreams had been fulfilled. And she had missed the signs.

“I should have known.” Simple, forthright and true. “I’m his mother.”

“But you don’t want to be his mother, do you? At least not sometimes, like today. And that’s what you feel the worst about.”

“He’s my son. I love him.”

“I have no doubt of that.”

The silence stretched. Moonlight sparkled on the water now, and stars had begun to appear.

“There are days when I wish things were different,” she conceded. She didn’t know why she was telling Finn this, when she’d never said the words before.

He countered. “Every parent would say the same. Even parents of the most relentlessly normal children.”

“I think he deserves better.” Her voice dropped. It was barely audible to her own ears. “He deserves endless patience, unlimited resources, a mother who wakes up every morning knowing exactly what to do and how to do it. A father who’s involved in his life on every level.”

“Unfortunately, children are born on earth, not in heaven.”

“I try not to have unreasonable expectations of myself. I really do. But there are days…”

He joined her on the rock, which surprised her. They sat shoulder to shoulder, like two people comfortable together.

“Let me tell you what I see,” Finn said. “Enthusiasm and intelligence. Someone who saw the signs while her son was still young enough for the best outcome from intensive treatment. A woman with a sense of humor about her own shortcomings. More patience than any two women I’ve known. Look at the way you supervise Kieran’s diet, Peggy. Only the freshest, purest ingredients. No sugar or additives. The well-thought-out educational plans, the constant striving. Coming all the way to Ireland, with no guarantees, because it seemed like the best choice for helping him.”

“I’m no saint. Some mornings I wake up and I’m not sure which foot to put on the floor. I feel at sea when I’m working with Kieran and nothing’s going right. I never wanted to be a teacher. I miss being in school. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to pursue a medical career.”

“Would you send him back if you could?”

“What, trade him in for a more normal model?”

“Supposing you could?”

She considered. “Can I keep Kieran and just trade in his neurological system?”

Finn laughed. She liked the sound. It was robust and unfettered. She could feel it rumbling through him, the twitching of his arm, vibrations in the hip nestled against hers.

“On my best days, I think he was sent to me for a purpose,” she said. “Lessons both of us need to learn. That’s pretty New Age for a good Catholic, but there it is. I think he’s taught me so much already. So no, I won’t trade him for another model. He’s mine for the long haul, and I love him.”

“Strength through adversity?”

She was enjoying this intimacy, and she was fully aware that she might be about to destroy it. “Did you feel this way about your children sometimes? Or about the losses you suffered? Not that those could be good in any way, but that something will come from it, despite the horror?”

“Have you simply tired of talking about yourself?”

“No, I’d like to know you better. You make it hard, as you well know.”

“I don’t talk about my children.”

“Yes, but that’s the ultimate burial, isn’t it? It’s like they never existed. Even Bridie is afraid to mention them.”

She felt him stiffen. She sighed. “Finn, I’m not your patient, so you didn’t have to make me feel better tonight. I thought maybe we’d reached a new plateau here. Friends who could really talk about their lives.”

“Talk about my life? I killed my children, and my wife.” He got up and walked to the edge of the cliff. There was a narrow rock-strewn beach six feet below, then nothing but water until the horizon was broken by Clare Island, three and a half miles away.

He faced her. “Is that what you wanted to know? Is that the plateau you’d hoped to climb?”

She sat and waited.

“You’ve heard the story by now,” he said.

“I know it was a boating accident.”

“We went out to Clare. Sheila loved the water. Her father was a fisherman, and as a child, she went out with him frequently. She felt at home in a boat, and she wanted our children to feel the same way. We bought one, nothing expensive or exotic, but sturdy and comfortable enough for the trip. Bridie gets seasick, and she didn’t want to go, so she begged to be allowed to spend the day with a friend.”

“I’m so glad she did,” Peggy said.

“At first Sheila insisted Bridie join us, but in the end she gave in. We left early, and the crossing was problem free. We spent the day swimming and hiking. The weather changed in the early afternoon, but I didn’t pay it much of a mind. It was only cloudy, a relief of sorts after the morning’s sun. Others were staying. We stayed. Little Brian fell asleep, and Sheila was reluctant to wake him to strap him into his life jacket again and carry him to the boat. So we waited for his nap to end.”

Peggy didn’t want to stop him. She nodded but didn’t reply.

“By the time Brian woke, the skies were darkening quickly and the wind had picked up. Waves were slapping at the sides of the boat, and I had a moment or two of hesitation about whether to make the crossing. Sheila felt we’d be safe, and I was afraid if we didn’t leave then, we might be marooned for the night. So we got the boys in the boat and started across.”

He turned away and stared out at the ocean. “We would have been fine. The rain began to fall. Softly at first, then the heavens opened. Still, we were safe. Our boat was sound. I opened the throttle to get us home quickly. To this day, I don’t know what we hit. The seas were rough, but nothing seemed to be in our way. One moment we were speeding home, the next we were all in the water, somewhere between the island and the mainland, and the boat was in pieces around us.”