Nathan opens his mouth to speak, but Mum’s voice comes from around the corner, calling, “Coffee’s ready, kidlets,” before she appears, struggling under the weight of a large cardboard box.Nathan dashes across the room to take it, quietly admonishing her for not calling him to carry it.He sets the box on the piano bench, and a thin cloud of dust flies up, tickling my nose.
“Nathan helped me bring up some old boxes from the basement before I asked him to play for me,” Mum says breathlessly, dusting her hands off on her pajama pants.Dad’spajama pants.“This is for you, Fi.”
I lift the lid to find dozens of Dad’s old notebooks.Most of them are travel journals, but I recognize some of them as ones he wrote story ideas in or used for interviews and research.
“Oh my god,” I whisper.I feel like I’ve just opened a treasure chest and found something worth more than all the gold and jewels in the world.
“He’d want you to have those,” Mum says.The waver in her voice makes that familiar lump form in my throat.There are times lately when it gets so big, I don’t know how I can still breathe.
“Thank you, Mum.”I move around the piano bench to embrace her, burying my face in her neck, and closing my eyes as I inhale her familiar scent mixed with Dad’s Irish Spring soap.The meltdown I felt coming on earlier stirs inside me, and I do my best to tamp it down, partly because I don’t want to set Mum off, and partly because of Nathan’s presence.I release her and step back, avoiding her gaze.“I’m going to go shower before I have my coffee.”
“I’ll take the box up to your room if you want,” Nathan says.
For some reason, the words feel like an olive branch.After a moment’s hesitation, I nod.“Okay.Thanks.”I have a second to notice Mum’s small, pleased smile before I flee from the room.
CHAPTER TEN ~ NATHAN
What the hell wasthat?
I could have remained silent and let Fiona wonder how and when I learned to play piano.Or I could have simply told her Murph taught me to play over the years.Instead, I cracked open a piece of my heart and let her see it.The vulnerable, exposed feeling that followed, paired with the soft sounds of her grief made me…angryisn’t quite the right word, but something close to it.It’s similar to the sensation I’ve felt ever since she arrived, knowing she’ll be leaving again soon.
So instead of being kind and gentle, I poked at her by asking when she was leaving.Then I goaded her by proving I still knew her.It was as if something possessed me, causing the words to spew out against my will.I’ve been known as many things over the course of my life: son, friend, uncle.Quiet, reserved, maybe a little standoffish and wary of strangers.But until recently, I rarely would have included ‘asshole’ on the list.
I don’t want to start now.An image of Murph’s smiling face had flashed into my mind when Fiona asked where I was going with my line of questioning, causing the fire inside me to fizzle out.I don’t want to be this resentful, combative person.Murph may be gone, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop making him proud.Treating his precious daughter like shit isn’t the way to do that.
“The piano should be yours.”Mae nudges my arm and hands me a cup of coffee.I’ve been standing here staring blindly into the box of Murph’s old journals, so I didn’t even realize Mae had left the room and returned with two cups of coffee.“Seamus would want you to have it.He was so damn proud of you for sticking with your lessons.”
I smile absently, trailing my fingers over the familiar black and white keys.Like many things in this house, the piano has been here my entire life.Despite being an inanimate object, it feelsalivesomehow.As if some of Murph’s essence fused with it during the countless hours he poured his heart into playing.Into teachingmehow to play.“It wouldn’t feel right to take it.Not unless it’s too painful for you to see it here.”
Mae sighs and takes a sip of coffee.“Everything is painful.Every breath, every move, every memory, every word.Every moment of every day hurts like hell.”Tears shimmer in her eyes as she turns away to sit in Murph’s chair again.“We’ll leave it for now.There’s no rush.”
“And this way, I can keep playing for you whenever you want,” I say.She offers me a tired smile.“Besides, I think Fiona would likely hate me if I got the pianoandthe cottage.”
She makes a quiet hum that I take as agreement.“Has Fiona said anything to you about the cottage?”
“Not a word.Has she said anything toyou?”
“Not much,” Mae says.“I think she’s still in shock.She was completely silent for ages after the reading, and then all she said was that she assumed the house would be hers.She was going to suggest we get away from Honeywell for a while and go spend some time in Ireland.”
“You still can,” I say quickly.Murph put a clause in his will stating that I need to keep the house for at least a year before making any decisions about what to do with it.If it weren’t for that, I’d sign over the deed to Fiona or Mae in a heartbeat.“I still don’t know what Murph was thinking when he left it to me, but I’d never stop either of you from using it.”
“I know you wouldn’t, and I love you for that.I just think it’d be too much right now.I adore Ireland, and the cottage holds so many special memories, but…as difficult as it is to simply get through each day, at least I’m surrounded by my people here.I have familiarity and routine.Or at least thepossibilityof routine.”A guilty half-smile crosses her face as she looks down at her sweatshirt and tugs the too-long sleeves so they completely cover her hands.
We drink the rest of our coffee in companionable silence.When the shower turns off, I wait a few more minutes to give Fiona a chance to get dressed, then I take the box and head upstairs.The scent of her mango shampoo hits me the moment I reach the landing, sending me back to our teenage days.Fiona was always drawn to light, tropical scents, and to this day, I still think of her whenever I catch a whiff of mango, coconut, or papaya.I try not to think about how there was a time when I was intimately familiar with her scent.
With the box tucked under one arm, I knock on her bedroom door.I hear her moving around inside before the door opens.Her damp hair is piled on top of her head and pinned in place with a large clip, and she’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeve top with a pattern of pastel wildflowers.Her feet are bare, as usual, and her toenails are painted bright purple.They were red when I saw them the day before yesterday.
Fiona’s gaze goes straight to the floor, then she does a double-take when she sees me.She must have assumed I’d dump the box and run.Until recently, that’s exactly what I would have done.
“Mae and I had coffee and talked,” I explain.“When I heard the shower start, I didn’t want to startle you if you came out suddenly or…” I trail off as an image comes to mind of Fiona wandering out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, her skin dewy and pink.
“Thanks for bringing it up.”She moves out of the way, and I hesitate for a moment before stepping over the threshold.I set the box on the desk and turn back toward the door when the strongest sense of déjà vu hits me.This room is the same as it was the last time I was in here, which feels like a lifetime ago.
“Holy time warp, Batman,” I murmur, my gaze bouncing around the space, landing for no more than a second on something before it moves to the next thing.Fiona’s maps and collages; the vintage U2 poster Murph got signed by all four members of the band; her Spice Girls paraphernalia.“I used to come upstairs all the time to visit Murph in his office, but I’ve never come down this way.I figured your parents would have turned it into an extra guest room, especially after Rex claimed the spare room for himself.But this…it’s like time stood still in here.”
I can practically see the ghosts of Teenage Fiona and Nathan in here.Curled up together on the bed, watching shows on the tiny, ancient TV.Sitting on the floor with homework and school projects scattered around us.There are photos of us on the corkboard; a necklace I gave her for her sixteenth birthday hanging from a heart-shaped peg beside the bed; the stuffed penguin with the bright yellow rain jacket and hat that I spent way too much time and money winning for her at the county fair one year.
“We spent a lot of time in here,” she says quietly.
