Chapter 50: Fall In

The elation and fright of what I’d just done with the necklace still fluttered violently in me when I arrived at my destination a little while later. I could still go back to the pier... ‘It was all a mistake, Darya ... A joke... !’

I swiped the ridiculous idea aside as I stared at the house. There was no need to climb the stairs and knock, on the chance that anyone would be there. The ‘For Sale’ sign out front and lack of decorations on the porch were enough indication that they’d moved out. I stood there for a long time, remembering occasions when I’d walked here late at night. Compared to other locations around Montauk, the memories were fewer since it wasn’t a place I usually hung out. But to see that it was on the market seemed to put a final point on things.

Salvation today would not come in the form of blonde hair and sweet brown eyes. I cast my mind out to Florida, wondering how it would go for my friend. Things had fallen apart quickly the first time her dad had come back, a year ago. But this time it sounded like it would be different. I doubted I’d see her anytime soon. Not all was lost, though: Julie had my number, and she’d promised to call once she was settled in. At the very least I could keep in touch with her on occasion, and that was one small and welcome comfort amidst the avalanche of recent changes.

I realized I was just stalling, though. I wasn’t expecting that I’d catch Julie, but I’d still taken the short detour to visit her old house, just to see what could be seen. Now I forced myself to walk on, my real destination weighing on my mind and legs like an anchor. Almost there... Although if that house proved empty as well, I knew I’d have to continue even further to the waterside again. I checked my watch, wondering when my mom might get antsy to leave. Then I dismissed the thought. She and Frej will just have to wait for me.

A much more familiar house came into view. I slowed, my heart pounding. A flood of regrets washed through me, as I wondered how much they had to be suffering in the current situation. I’d never called them after she left, unable to deal with it. Then weeks had passed, and months now.

I can still turn around and walk to Beth’s...

The air seemed to thicken with each step, but with effort I finally set my gear against the side of the house, climbed the steps, knocked, and waited. After a while, the door made some noise and then swung open. I felt woozy, as Mairead’s eyes locked onto mine. She didn’t look exactly like her daughter, but there certainly was enough of a resemblance that the sight of her made my breath catch. It made the absence just a little more real, the pain a little more sharp.

“Oh gosh!” she cried, covering her mouth.

“Hi, Mrs. Martin,” I rasped. “I’m just here for the morning, since we’re picking up Frej, and I came by to say hi.”

She remained bewildered. “Please, will you come in?”

I pulled the screen door open and stepped into the house. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was a relief to suddenly find myself in her embrace. She held tightly to me for a long time.

Neither of us knew quite what to say, though. What does she know? What does she think I know? What the hell do I even know? So little, as usual...

When she finally broke the hug, her face was moist.

“Oh, dear ... It is so good to see you.”

“You too. And I’m, uh...” I murmured, her voice reminding me of Muireann’s and driving another sharp pang of longing through me. “I’m sorry I haven’t called, since...”

Mairead squeezed my hand. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I know this mustn’t be easy for you.”

I sighed. “No, not really.”

“Please, come in and sit. Can I make you some tea?”

“Uh, sure, if it’s no trouble.”

“Yes, of course it’s not.”

“I can’t stay too long, but a cup sounds good. Is Mr. Martin at the market?”

“Yes, as always. I will go there later this morning, but I have some time right now.”

“Okay. We’re driving back home today.”

“Of course. Frej told us he was going to spend some time with your family. We will miss him, but it will be good for him to have a change of pace. He’s not been ... Well, he can tell you, if he likes. And how was school for you this year? I understand you were instrumental in setting up some sort of memorial fund for your friend?”

I related some superficial details about my spring exploits, and Mairead appeared to be quite pleased as she brewed and then served our tea. And why wouldn’t she be pleased? On the surface, it all seemed so damn noble. But underneath it all...

I caught her up on my folks, Lara, the twins. Eventually I ran out of small talk so she took over. She and Aongus still ran the shop and it was business as usual, even if a key employee was missing these days. The weather was nice. Frej’s new captain was a solid man. Montauk was full of tourists, more so than ever, which was good for business but intrusive nonetheless.

I finished my cup of tea, and she hers. We both seemed to be searching our brains for a missed aspect of everyday life that we hadn’t touched on. But no ... There was really only one topic remaining that made any sense to broach. Otherwise, I should just take my leave.

Steps...

“Can I ask you just one thing?” I finally ventured. “I don’t need to know any more than this, but I’m just wondering ... if she’s doing okay. That she’s happy up there, with Frej’s sister. I would like to know, but I also don’t want to hear any more than that, because I promised that...”

Because she cut me off ... She left me...

Mairead smiled sadly, an emotionally unsteady expression that I was suddenly having a hard time looking at. “Don’t worry,” she said quietly. “I can tell you very little, because I don’t know very much myself.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you call her?”

She shook her head. “We call Birgitte on occasion, or Frej does. But she says almost nothing about Heather. She will not speak of her, whether she is still working there, or ... anything at all.”

I gaped at her, my entire world withering. “Are you saying that you haven’t talked to Heather since she left?” I said, my voice hoarse.

Mairead glanced at me, her eyes suddenly unsteady. “I’m afraid we have not.”

I shifted my gaze outside, utterly dumbfounded. “I can’t—I can’t believe that,” I stammered. “Not even once? What—How is that possible?”

She seemed shaken as she sighed. “Can I pour you another cup?”

I waved my hand vaguely. Luckily Mairead knew what I had answered with that gesture, because I didn’t know myself. This was too crazy to process.

“Has Frej talked to her?” I finally asked.

“Surely not. But you could ask him, if you want to be sure,” she said, her words getting choked off by a sob.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Martin! Somehow I didn’t think it was like this!”

I felt awkward, unsure if I should give her a hug. Eventually, she composed herself a bit, at least enough to pour my tea and sit again.

“It is that way,” she murmured.

“Jeez ... I mean, it’s just so strange for her to not speak to you at all.”

“It may seem strange ... But it’s not.”

I glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

“She’s never done things the way they’re meant to be done.”

“Well sure, that much I’ve figured out. But this ... It’s just hard to imagine that she’d cut everyone off, so completely!”

Mairead took an absentminded sip from her cup. “It’s her way.”

“Her way?” I frowned. “You mean she’s done this before?”

She gestured vaguely. “Not to where she’s gone and left us ... But there have been times when she will not speak to us for weeks.”

“Weeks! Are you serious? Why? Because she was angry with you?”

Mairead looked at me with an odd expression. “Angry? Oh no. Quite the opposite, dear.”

I shook my head in confusion. “Opposite?”

Mairead stared out the window for a time. “Heather does not do things out of anger. How to explain, though ... No, ‘opposite’ is not the right word. But it’s common for her to be completely absorbed in something to the point that nothing else exists. I think you don’t see that, not all of it, as you only spend short periods of time with her, here and there. But the time between, it can be quite ... interesting.”

I pondered all of this. “All right. I know that, at least somewhat,” I said slowly. “Her projects can be pretty intense. Especially the vision one.”

“Indeed. All-consuming, I’d call it.”

“Fine, but still ... Not talk to you for weeks?”

“It’s her way,” she repeated. “You don’t know the troubles I have with her school.”

I grimaced. “School? What do you mean?”

“We often get calls from them.”

“Really? She’s the most brilliant person I know; how could she not do well in school?”

“It’s not her grades, so much, although this year has not been good at all. A complete loss, in fact...” Mairead then smiled slightly. “It’s more that she causes one headache after another.”

I was pretty sure I was the main recipient of her schemes of late, but apparently not the only recipient. I imagined Heather working her tricks at the school, messing with teachers and students alike when it suited her. But that image didn’t seem quite right, though. In fact, it didn’t fit at all.

“Often she can’t even be bothered to attend,” Mairead continued. “When she has something more important to do, classes are simply a nuisance. I don’t know how many times she’ll leave for school, only to go do something else for the day. And later, we receive a call. ‘Mrs. Martin, do you know where your daughter is?’”

If the situation wasn’t so heart-rending, I’d have been laughing my head off by then. As it was, I only smiled a little, suddenly remembering Heather’s clandestine outings with Frej on his boat. Frej... Unsure if it was still meant to be a secret, I said nothing, though.

Mairead put her cup down and leaned closer to me. “Matt, you’re a good lad, as Tommy would say. Maybe it’s best that you know this about her now.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I know how much you care for her. I imagine that very few people, if any, would tolerate Heather for very long.”

“Well, for some reason, I’m one of those very few people.”

Mairead laughed gently. “And you will never know how much Aongus and I appreciate that. I say with all my heart that you have brought my daughter joy like no one else has. So you should know that you are the focus of much of her efforts. But as well, how shall I say this ... you’ve seen the results, but not very much of the process.”

I sighed heavily. “Well, I used to be the focus. Not anymore.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, I don’t. But everything is up in the air. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“I wish I could tell you. I do wish! But you know that with her, you cannot say what will happen. Perhaps she is about to knock on the door in a few minutes. Or perhaps we will not see her for months yet. I wish I knew, just like you. But we can only wait for her.”

“No, don’t wait,” I said softly.

Mairead cocked her head. “Don’t wait?”

“Heather said not to wait for her. Not to waste my life, waiting. Because like you said, it could be today, or it could be years.”

She shivered and nodded slowly. “That may be sound advice, then.” She fingered the edge of her cup, her hand trembling. “Sound advice, indeed.”

“What would happen if...” I hesitated, as the question was stupid. “If you made her come home?”

“How do you mean?”

I shrugged. “You know, as her ... parents,” I said, feeling my throat tighten at this fuzzy statement. “Tell her she has to come home, to finish school.”

Mairead eyed me. “You’d be more successful trying to change the schedule of the tides.”

I sniffed, nodding. “No, I know she probably wouldn’t come back, but what would she do if you tried? Get mad? Leave forever?”

“None of those things. She would simply smile and continue on. There’s only one thing that can change my daughter, and telling her what to do is certainly not it.”

“What can change her, then?”

Mairead finished her tea. Her hand was still shaking as she set the fine cup down with a bit of a clatter. “Accepting who she is.”

I felt my blood slow to a crawl. “But if you accept who she is ... you don’t change her.”

She smiled at me, again very emotional. “You’re a keen young man. And so you see why I’ve not talked to her since she left, why I’ve not insisted on it, or driven to Birgitte’s house to collect her ... I’ve made too many mistakes, and it’s why I sit here, every day, hoping for a phone call,” she wailed, “or a knock on the door, to see my dearest Heather, but at the same time doing nothing but waiting!”

“No waiting,” I whispered absently, feeling uneasy at the sudden change in mood. Not that it wasn’t sad to begin with, but everything was suddenly on edge.

“Yes, she would say that to you. Be careful, Matt,” she said softly, her eyes moist and yet sharp.

“Careful? Why?”

“You don’t have to cast your lot with her,” she said almost inaudibly.

My insides jolted. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

She wiped at her wet cheeks. “You’re still very young. There are easier ways to live a happy life.”

I shook my head. “Mrs. Martin, I love her like crazy.”

“Yes, I know. But—”

“And I’m sure she loves me, even now!”

Mairead nodded, giving up on trying to dry her face. “I know, dear, I know she does. But you must know that she’ll never settle down. She’ll leave you again and again. That is her way. I don’t know what she’s told you, but that is who she is.”

I sat up in my chair. “Are you saying you don’t want me to be with Heather, if she comes back to me?”

“No, don’t you see? Heather doesn’t come back to people. They can only come to her. She doesn’t wait. For anyone.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked, trying in vain to remain calm.

“It is a constant race. You don’t see it all, Matt, the effort of keeping up with her. Every day, another surprise.”

“Which is one of the most amazing things about her!”

“But you only see the good times of being together! The fun result of this unpredict—”

“Mrs. Martin, I haven’t seen her in months!” I cried. “You can’t say that I’ve only seen the good times! She has left me this time, and it’s the craziest of things. But I’m still here, hanging on to a bit of hope. Yeah, it’s the tiniest little bit these days, but it’s what I have!”

Mairead seemed to suddenly shake herself out of things.

“Oh dear,” she murmured, her eyes streaming. “What am I saying ... I’m so sorry ... So sorry!”

“What are you trying to tell me here?” I asked, settling into my chair again.

She was quiet for a time, fingering her cup again. “I deeply apologize. I got carried away. It’s been so hard, not talking to her, after what’s happened ... I didn’t mean—”

Now she really broke down. I hesitated, and then moved to crouch by her side. Taking her into a hug, she melted against me.

“I am so sorry,” she cried softly. “I feel like this is all my fault. For not telling her the truth when she was younger, and for not exerting a firmer hand as she grew up. Now she runs away from all of us, and for what? For nothing.”

“No, not nothing. You said it yourself: it’s who she is,” I said quietly.

“Yes, yes, Matt. Of course it is ... But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

I was quiet for a time. Mairead calmed herself and gave me a little squeeze before excusing herself to the bathroom. I took to my chair again, sipping my tea, contemplating everything Heather’s mom had told me, and everything she seemed to be implying.

She’ll leave you, again and again...

A part of me found this so hard to believe, even as another wondered if it was the truth. Well, I wasn’t wondering. It was the truth, actually. The entirety of my relationship with her was exactly that. Surging and receding...

I sniffed, hearing Lara’s voice in my head, calling me Barnacle Man...

I sat there helplessly as these two ideas fought with each other in my brain, somehow feeding two opposing feelings at once: Heather is coming back ... Heather is never coming back... My heart tightened at the echo of Mairead’s words. Sure, she had hope for us, but she also had been rather definitive, for that brief moment when she’d cracked open.

And so, the tide shifted a little more to one side. ‘Hope springs eternal,’ they say, and yet the projection of how fast mine was fading certainly seemed like it was going to make a liar of the person who came up with that horrible saying.

Mairead returned, her face still a little flushed and her expression extremely dejected.

“I apologize,” she said, taking to her seat again. “I fear this whole episode has caused me too much pain to speak clearly about it. Please don’t take what I said to heart. I don’t know what will happen, or what you have agreed between Heather and yourself. I meant no harm by telling you about her, and yet I fear that I have harmed things even further today.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand what you’re saying about her, and I do appreciate the advice.”

“It was not good advice, and it was unkind to both of you. Very unkind.”

I hummed. “Or maybe it’s what it is. I’m not in the best shape right now either, so I’m sorry I got worked up. But earlier this morning, I realized—”

Mairead looked up at me when I stopped.

“I guess I realized that just like you said, she’s not coming back,” I finished, feeling unexpectedly hollow. “Not like she was before, anyway.”

She let out a long breath and closed her eyes.

Abruptly I rose from my chair, figuring that the point of this conversation had long been lost. Way too much talking... “I should probably get back, since we’re supposed to leave soon.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied quietly.

“Again, I’m really sorry I haven’t called to say hi.”

“Don’t fret about that. We know where your heart is, Matt. We are most grateful to you.”

She accompanied me to the door, clinging to my arm. I felt bad for not staying longer; for leaving her behind as well.

“Um ... Is Heather’s photo exhibit still up at the vision place?” I asked.

Mairead nodded, her face pained. “They planned to have it up through the end of August, at least.”

“How...” I swallowed. “How was the opening night?”

She brushed at her cheek. “We didn’t go.”

I felt even worse now. “Have you been there to see them?”

She shook her head, her face flushing with shame. “None of us have gone.”

“I’m sorry. But I completely understand why.”

She gave my arm a squeeze and nodded sadly.

I cleared my head as best I could and smiled a little. “Say hello to Mr. Martin for me, please?”

“I will.”

I stopped short. “Oh, no. I brought back his drum. The, uh...”

“Bodhrán?” she supplied, smiling only a little.

“Yeah, that. After all this time you’d think I’d remember how to say it right. But anyway, I should’ve brought it over, but I forgot. I can have my mom drive by here on the way out.”

“No, I’ll be at the market soon. Leave it at your aunt’s, and I’ll go over this week and pick it up.”

“Okay. Please thank Mr. Martin from Lara, because it really was nice of him to let her borrow it all this time.”

“He was most happy to see someone take it up and learn some of the music from our home.”

A last hug, and I stepped outside. Perhaps it was my random glance at overhead telephone wires, the ones that used to connect me to my girl, but for some reason an odd memory struck me. I turned to Mairead.

“I know this is going to be a really weird question, but ... do you have something on your phone that shows you who’s calling, when it’s ringing?”

Though she did answer me, she didn’t have to, since her face twisted into dubious surprise.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Does it exist?”

“Yeah, something new. I guess you can rent it from the phone company. I was just wondering.”

“We certainly don’t have that here. It sounds like magic.”

I held her gaze for a long moment. “Yeah, magic ... That’s because it is. Take care, Mrs. Martin.”

She watched me as I gathered my fishing gear and walked off down the road. I turned around once, looking at the house, the door already closed. It was a senseless thought, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wouldn’t be seeing the place for a very long time.

Sarah was just finishing breakfast with Frej and Beth when I got back. Since I had nothing to pack, having lost my only other set of clothes to the impish waves, I visited the water for the short time before we left. Out on the sand, I sat down and took a last look at the ocean.

Families were already populating the beach; kids were running around, laughing and playing. A dad was putting the finishing touches on a rather intricate sandcastle he’d built with his son and daughter. The water level was rising, though, so I knew it wasn’t going to last the hour. Funny that ... The sweet spot for castle building was between the lines of high and low tide, where the sand was just the right consistency and moisture ... And yet that was the zone of certain destruction as well, given the surging and receding waters.

For now, the man had built a break wall in front of the structure, and the little building lived on even as the water occasionally parted and foamed around the thick bulwarks.

It would all be for nothing, though. The sea would let nothing so beautiful stand forever. Indeed, even as I watched, an above-average swell collected itself out on the surface, like a whip, and surged toward us. The family ignored the sound of the large crash, but their noticing it would’ve made no difference anyway. They could never stop such power.

The leading edge sped forth, accelerating into the sandy incline and spilling over itself so eagerly, closing the distance ... It smashed into their pointless little protective shell, leaping over it in a fountain of joyous flooding. The kids shrieked as suddenly everything was overrun. The base of the building started melting into the moat; seashells and seaweed that had served as decorations jumped ship and floated away on the retreating eddies.

After a moment, the family turned their heads at a flanged sound that faded in to everyone’s ears. I followed their gaze and watched a seaplane fly by, a long banner stretched out behind it. It was morning, and therefore a strange hour to be flying advertisements, I thought, but what did I know.

The dad soon went back to fixing the half-ruined construction with urgency. He was admirably dedicated, although he now looked over his shoulder at the sound of each breaker. The fear of destruction had gripped him, given the ocean’s betrayal at sending that unexpected wave.

His kids helped out by bringing new seashells and seaweed for decoration. The encircling protective mask was shored up... So useless... But then I realized that I myself was sifting the sand next to me and pulling up little white decorations. And I was even on the verge of standing up to deliver to them the few good ones I’d found so far. Useless beauty...

“Hello!” came a little voice beside me.

I turned to find a young girl of perhaps five standing there smiling at me.

“Hi there!” I replied, tossing my pointless shells aside.

Despite her enthusiastic greeting, she seemed to shy significantly at suddenly discovering that I would actually talk back to her.

“Are you having fun on the beach?” I asked.

She nodded bashfully. Then she extended her arm, offering me something.

“Oh, what’s that?” I asked.

She dropped a little white car into my palm and immediately ran away to where her mother sat reading a magazine near some bright colored towels.

I laughed, amused by her cute act, and a little sad that I hadn’t had a chance to give her at least a seashell in exchange. I shook the sand out of the car, peering at it curiously. An unexpected flush of warmth ran through me, from the gratitude I felt at being gifted this prize.

I stood up and walked over to them. The girl watched me approach, half-hiding behind her mother’s chair, though her face was more shyly curious than scared.

“Hello?” I called.

The woman glanced up and then pushed her giant sunglasses up over her forehead.

“Sorry to bug you, but your daughter just came over and gave me this car. I actually have to take off, though, so I wanted to give it back to her.”

I held the toy out and the mom looked at it briefly.

“Oh, that’s nice of you... ! But I don’t think that’s ours. I’ve never seen it before. Addie, is this your car?”

Still hiding behind the beach chair, the girl shook her head.

“Oh, did you find it in the sand?” her mom asked sweetly.

Now Addie nodded. The mom grinned and turned back to me.

“She must have thought it was yours. So sorry she bothered you!”

“Oh no, it’s okay. And she can have it, since she found it.”

“Did you hear that, Addie?” the woman said, taking the toy from my palm. “This nice person is giving the car back to you. Can you say thank you?”

The little girl flashed me a smile and took the car from her mom. But she didn’t speak, so the mom turned back to me. “Thank you,” she mouthed, a knowing smile on her lips.

I looked back at little Addie. “You know, I used to play with cars on the beach when I was younger, so I know how much fun it is. Anyway, enjoy your day!” I chimed, giving them a wave as I walked off, smiling to myself.

Rings of energetic tingles were coursing up and down my spine, though I didn’t know why.

I was almost at the porch steps when I felt like someone was approaching. I turned to find little Addie running toward me, the sand swishing at her feet. Before I could react, she reached me and pressed the car back into my hand. As she skipped away once more, her black hair danced in the breeze. I saw her mom standing by her beach chair, watching us. The woman spread her arms and shrugged, her amused grin almost as wide as her gigantic sunglasses.

I waved back, pocketing the car as I climbed the steps to the house. Once inside, I felt remarkably light, touched by the simple generosity of the little girl. It was just a generic little toy, and yet to her it was a treasure, and one that she’d had the enormous heart to gift away ... twice, even. And that of all the people on the beach this morning, somehow I deserved this present?

Crazy...

I laughed, wondering if my sudden happiness at this smallest of gestures was only because everything else was so depressing at the moment. In darkness, even the glow of a tiny ember might seem as bright as the sun.

But no, there was something else to it, which I couldn’t quite put my finger on. A longing ... to be like little Addie again, perhaps?

“Ready?” Sarah asked, intruding on my thoughts.

“Whenever you are.”

“Sure. But Aunt Beth would probably appreciate you closing the fridge before we go.”

I sheepishly glanced at the open door and then at my aunt’s amused face in the living room.

“Sorry. I was just about to grab a soda,” I explained.

“Three minutes ago, yes,” Sarah teased. “How was your morning?”

I sniffed. “I have no idea...”

She frowned. “Did you catch anything at the pier?”

“I have no idea,” I repeated, fingering the little car that I had in my pocket. “But I’m really wanting to go home and get back to Lara ... I think she’s really missing us.”

Sarah nodded and handed me the keys. “Say goodbye and we’ll be in the car in a few minutes.”

“Wait, I’m driving?”

“You are.”

“And what, are you going to sit in the back with Frej?” I teased, surprising myself.

She gave me a patient look. “Aren’t you up for driving?”

“I don’t know. After all, I was just too distracted to close the fridge!”

Sarah patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll sit in the front seat and keep an eye on you, don’t worry.”

As it turned out, getting behind the wheel was the perfect foil for my mental state. Being still very new to driving, the act demanded focus, and this served to take my thoughts off of all other possibilities. No one was particularly talkative, which was fine by me. Only two things occasionally seeped into my thoughts; the feel of four little plastic wheels against my thigh, and a vision of Lara’s sweet face.

Although, at one point, a third idea reminded itself in my head.

“Interesting ... Have you found a short cut across the Sound?” Sarah asked me, as I made an unexpected turn.

“No ... I just have a favor to ask you.”

She frowned at me, but soon her expression softened as she realized where I was heading.

“Why do you need a favor from me?” she asked softly.

“I just want you to go in and tell me if they are as cool as I imagine they are. I don’t think I can look at them myself.”