A Little Learning (18 page)

“I like her a lot,” Rory said.

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Yes. Quite.” Rory hesitated, gazing at the ring on her hand, and said hesitantly, “Whenever I put this on, I’m afraid, Seamus.”

He turned to her. “Of what?” He handed her the latte.

“Thanks, it’s perfect. If Ki-Rin ever gets too old, you have a great future as a barista.”

“Ha ha. Afraid of what?” he repeated.

“Not sure. I wonder if it has anything to do with my job history.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Now, this is a theory to hear.”

“Don’t make fun of me. It’s just...I can’t seem to keep a job. And I’m not sure I like my new one, by the way. But I’m wondering if I’ve set myself up to lose jobs in the past. And if I’m afraid to stick with anything. And marriage is certainly sticking with something.”

“You stick with belly dance and fire dance.”

“True.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand it. I love you and I love your children, and I can actually
picture
us living happily together for the rest of our lives. But I’m anxious, and I don’t know why. I just know I should pay attention to the feeling.”

Seamus’s stomach knotted. It wasn’t that he wanted her to ignore her intuition. He simply wanted there to be no reason for her wariness. And there must be a reason. Intuition was the type of thing that could end their relationship. Because it probably represented something that was true.

Maybe there was a different future in store for Rory Gorenzi.

She said, “That probably doesn’t exactly make your night.”

“No. It doesn’t,” he agreed.

She embraced him again. “Maybe we should just keep seeing each other—without getting married.”

He shrugged. “I’d be willing to try. Who knows? Maybe Lauren would be easier with that.”

“If my dad takes over the school again,” Rory said, “I’m prepared to come here.”

He held her and kissed the crown of her head. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

W
HEN
K
URT
RETURNED
to Sultan three weeks after his surgery, Rory told him of her decision. “I’ve told Seamus I’ll move to Telluride. Just...after you’re able to take the reins again.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Why aren’t you sure?” Her father’s expression was keen. He sat on the front porch of the small cabin that had always been his, in a green rocking chair. Sultan’s dirt roads were a mess of slush and mud. Rory had walked to her dad’s on foot, and her boots were caked with the mud.

Evading, she said, “Oh—I just want to know what’s happening here. There’s no rush.”

“You’ve got cold feet, haven’t you?” her father said.

Considering his earlier prognostications on the subject, this was quite a turnaround. “What makes you think that?”

“We talked at the hospital, he and I.”

Rory shrugged. “There are just so many things up in the air. I have to confess, I don’t think I’m cut out to manage the school. I like being in the field and I like teaching. I
can
be an administrator, but I don’t care for it.”

“What’s bothering you about committing yourself to him?”

“Intuition, maybe. It’s not about him, anyhow. There’s just something that’s not right.”

“That’s a good thing to pay attention to.” Her father’s expression showed regret, whether because of her doubts or his own history, she couldn’t guess.

“What was your intuition,” Rory said, “before you married my mother?”

“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t have a moment’s doubt. I don’t regret having married her, Rory, any more than I regret that we had you.”

But he was a proud man, she knew, and her mother had been unfaithful.

Strangely, none of her doubts extended to the idea of living with Seamus and his family, even for the rest of her life. It was the thought of marriage. To anyone.

And she didn’t understand why she should feel that way.

She told her father this.

He laughed. “I understand why you might feel that way. Your own parents’ marriage didn’t have a happy ending. And you were raised by a single woman—a widow, yes, but also a woman disinclined to marry again.”

“That’s not enough to explain it. Maybe there’s some purpose in store for me that precludes marriage. Or that marriage would preclude.”

“I do know this,” Kurt said. “You can be a couple for ten years, but it’s not the same relationship you have after you say, ‘I do.’”

And that, Rory realized, was what frightened her. That she had no idea what would follow, if she said those words to Seamus.

But suddenly things fell into place for Rory. She’d never run from what frightened her, just because it was unknown, and she wasn’t about to run this time. She would marry Seamus Lee as soon as he was ready. It was what she wanted, too.

She fingered the ring that was still on her finger.

“Thank you,” she said. “This probably sounds crazy, but what you’ve said actually helped.”

* * *

T
HEY
SET
THE
DATE
for June twenty-first. The wedding would be in Sultan, outdoors if the weather permitted, in a meadow a few hundred feet above the town.

Seamus told his children all together, as he’d told them of the engagement, on a Saturday in May. Rory was coming to Telluride to go for a hike with him and the three younger children. Lauren said she didn’t want to go.

After telling them of the wedding date, the boys and Belle wandered off to pursue their own interests while Lauren lingered behind with her father.

The two had maintained a shaky peace ever since Lauren’s birthday. She wore Janine’s letter jacket every day, and Seamus wasn’t even sure that she liked it. He knew she hadn’t forgotten the things he’d said at lunch that day. After such arguments, she always seemed remorseful and appeared to take the blame for making him angry. At those times, he felt hope that she
understood
that her mother hadn’t necessarily always been someone to emulate. But then her attitude would change again and they’d be back to square one. Rory’s birthday present remained in its box, stacked on top of a pile of books in one corner of her room, as if forgotten.

It puzzled Seamus that Lauren could be so disinterested in this gift, when she had previously been so taken with belly dance and fire-twirling. She
had
liked Rory—until Rory had agreed to marry her father.

Now, Seamus pointed this out.

“There wasn’t anything else to do in Sultan,” Lauren said morosely. “Look, lots of women like you, Dad, and I’m sure they know that liking us is also some kind of requirement for landing you. You know, making things permanent. And sure, I believe she actually likes us, but it was pretty clear that the two of you were mostly into each other. Anyhow, I know you’re not going to do what I say, but, no, I don’t want you to marry her. We don’t
need
her.”

“I’m not sure your brothers and sister would agree with that.”

“Oh, they
like
her. But they don’t really care one way or another what you decide.”

“Why don’t you want me to marry her?”

Lauren shook her head, looking exasperated. “It’s just like you want someone on your
side.
”

“My side in what?”

“Against Mom. You wanted to divorce her. I know that, and you can’t hide it or deny it.”

She was right, he silently acknowledged. He had, by the end, wanted to divorce his wife.

“So it’s really like my parents are divorced,” Lauren said, “except that my mother is actually dead, and my father doesn’t miss her. And he gets to write history the way he wants, because she can’t defend herself.”

Her interpretation staggered him—particularly the accusation of rewriting history.

She said, “I suppose we’ll be moving to Sultan, now.”

“I haven’t decided about that.”

“It would be okay,” she said. “I mean, it’s not like there are any guys I like here who are my age, either. At least there...” Her voice drifted off. Clearly, she feared she’d said too much. She shook her head.

Seamus waited.

“I just wish we could move there
without
Rory being part of it. I wish you thought we were enough for you.”

“It’s not a question of your not being enough. I fell in love with Rory, and not least because she loves all of you. I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“What if she starts doing things you don’t like, the way Mom did?”

Seamus considered this. When
had
he begun thinking about divorcing Janine? Not until she’d bought the gun? Was it just that one issue? No. But it was the gun that had made him think there might be no way other than divorce to get past their differences. He’d known, however, that even if they were divorced, she would still own a gun and sometimes the children would be in a home where a gun was kept.

“I’m sure there will be times when she does things I don’t like. That’s part of marriage.”

“She’s not as smart as Mom. Mom was an attorney. Rory’s just had a bunch of blue-collar jobs.”

Seamus decided to let that pass for the moment. “Lauren,” he said, “I love Rory, I plan to marry her, and I expect you to respect her and treat her courteously. You will be part of our family and go where we go.”

He watched her, waiting.

She said, “Fine. Whatever.”

* * *

B
EAU
AND
S
EUSS
RACED
up to Rory when she arrived. As she got out of her car, Beau said, “Watch this.” He crouched in front of Seuss, who was stamping his forefeet impatiently. “Seuss, hug.”

The German shepherd put his paws on Beau’s shoulders and licked his face.

Rory grinned broadly. “You are so good with him, Beau. He’s a good puppy, and he’s going to be a great dog, the way you work with him.”

Beau’s eyes rested on Seuss with pride.

They went into the house together through the front door and followed the sound of voices to the kitchen.

Lauren said, “You said you don’t want me to be like Mom. You don’t even respect her that much.”

Rory hung back.

Beau’s eyes shifted right and left, and he dropped his head.

“But I
am
like her, and I
want
to be. You just demean her.”

Seamus glanced up. “Rory. Beau.”

Lauren spun around, unfazed to learn she’d been overheard.

Beau stepped toward his sister. “Why don’t you give it up, Lauren? You didn’t even see what she did to herself.”

Rory saw Seamus freeze and she knew what must be running through his mind. She stared at Beau as his father said to him, “Neither did you.”

Beau met Seamus’s eyes and he looked as if he might flee. From what?

“You were outside,” Seamus said.

Beau seemed to consider whether or not to speak. “I went in the French doors.”

Seamus turned white. “The police never told me.”

“They were mad.”

“I
wanted
to see her,” Lauren said.

Rory couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Beau had seen what Seamus had seen.

“There was so much blood. The bullet went right through her neck,” Beau told his sister. “You’re being stupid, just like her. You don’t even know what guns do. Why do you think we had to stay in a hotel for three days? It wasn’t just because she died in the house. They had to clean up the blood! They even painted. Don’t you remember the paint?”

Rory moved close to Beau and put her hands on his shoulders. He was shaking violently. “Two of my friends weren’t even allowed to come over here because their parents knew Mom had a gun. I told her that, and she just looked at me and said, ‘Oh, well.’ That’s what she said, Lauren!”

Lauren stood stock still. “You’re all ganging up on her. Nobody loves her but me.”

Lauren’s words terrified Seamus. There was a desperate finality in them, a conclusion that it was Lauren and the memory of Janine against the entire world. A conclusion that Lauren was utterly alone and had no allies.

He said, “Beau, please take back what you said about your mother and your sister.”

Beau burst into tears, broke away from Rory and fled. The front door slammed behind him.

“He only said what you think!” Lauren accused.

Seamus hated that part of this accusation was true.

Rory said, “I’m going to check on Beau.”

“He’s only started to act this way about her since you appeared,” Lauren said. She was speaking to Rory, and “he” was Seamus.

Rory walked out of the kitchen and then out of the house, following Seamus’s older son and his dog.

* * *

S
EAMUS
SAGGED
AGAINST
the counter, then went to the table and sat down. “You win, Lauren,” he said.

“What do you mean?” She was sneering.

“We’ll remember your mother the way you want,” he said, hardly understanding what he was saying, knowing only that he could not let his daughter believe herself isolated from the rest of her family.

“Beau was probably lying,” she said somberly.

Seamus reached out for her hand and pulled her into the chair next to his. He waited for her to look at him.

“He wasn’t lying,” he said, and he reached out and hugged his daughter. “I didn’t want any of you to see what I saw, and I don’t think it’s good at all for Beau that he saw it. I think he’s probably going to have to talk to someone about it.”

“Like a psychiatrist?”

Pulling back, Seamus shook his head. “A grief counselor. Or someone who’s the right person for a boy his age. Lauren, would you like someone like that to talk to? Someone who listens to you and sympathizes with you and isn’t offended when you tell her your feelings?”

“If you’re talking about Rory...”

He shook his head again. “I’m talking about a counselor, Lauren. And Lauren, I meant what I said. I’ll help you remember your mother in the way that’s true for you. It’s wrong of me to do anything else.”

“But you think it’s a lie.”

He considered. “No. I think it’s who she is to you, and no one has the right to take that away from you. I know I don’t.”

Lauren leaned forward, and he realized that his daughter wanted his embrace again.

So he held her and said, “You’re a wonderful person, Lauren. And if you’re like your mom, that’s a credit to both of you.” He had thought he would choke on the words, but as he spoke them he realized it wasn’t so hard. She was still a child, and he didn’t have to tell her lies about Janine—and he didn’t have to tell her the truth. She was going to idealize Janine, for now, and maybe forever.

He said, “Lauren, I have to check on Beau now. You understand?”

She nodded.

He left her and followed Rory to find his son.

* * *

T
HEY
WERE
UNDERNEATH
the tree house Seamus had built when Beau was quite young. They sat on a fallen tree trunk that had been converted to a bench. Rory, with her hair in a loose braid, wearing Carhartt shorts, T-shirt and hiking boots, looked like a teenager herself.

They saw him coming. Beau was wiping his eyes.

Seamus neared them and crouched in front of his son. “I wish you’d told me.”

“I didn’t want to get in trouble. The marshals had already yelled at me.”

“I understand.”

“Why did I look?”

“It’s pretty natural.”

“But she was my mom! Why did I want to see that?”

“You didn’t,” Seamus answered. “You didn’t know what you would see.”

Rory said, “Beau thinks it would be okay to talk to a counselor about this.”

And Lauren said Rory isn’t smart,
Seamus thought. Well, she had enough common sense for him; enough common sense to see that his children couldn’t handle this alone.

Just as she’d helped him see that he couldn’t, either.

That he couldn’t live life alone.

* * *

T
HAT
EVENING
, R
ORY
knocked on Lauren’s door.