Part X

Monday morning arrived far too soon. It felt odd to kiss Ronan goodbye and set off for work when I was so used to being with him all day.

“Don’t worry, à chuisle. I’ll find plenty to do with myself. There’s a whole city to explore."

“Be careful, Ronan. It’s not the safest place in the world, you know.”

“I know, but don’t fret. I’ve been here before, after all."

“I keep forgetting that. All right, have a nice day, then.”

“You, too. Good luck with Emily. What are you going to tell her?”

“Lord only knows, but I promise I won’t blow your cover.”

“Thanks. See you later."

***

Emily wasn’t the patient type. She kept trying to catch me in odd moments so she might ask a question or two, but I had a lot of work piled up after four weeks away. I wouldn’t even take a coffee break when she begged me to.

“Look, sweetie, you’ll just have to wait for lunch, or I’ll never get out of here today.”

“Yeah, and I’ll just bet you can’t wait to knock off for the day!”

“Stop it.”

“You involved with him?”

“What do you mean, involved?”

“You know,” she said, arching her eyebrows. “Involved. I wouldn’t blame you at all if you were. He’s a good-looking man.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. I’ll tell you more at lunch.”

“You’re killing me, Sarah!”

“Don’t die before lunch.”

“Oh, you’re awful!”

I flicked at the stack of papers in front of me. “If I don’t finish this pile soon, I’ll be eating alone at my desk.”

“I can take a hint. See you in a bit.”

She retreated, and I went back to my work, confident I could finish wading through the pile and be well into another before lunch. My heart was lighter for the task than ever before. No matter what unpleasant surprises the work-day might hold, Ronan would be waiting for me at the end of it, and that made all things bearable.

***

As soon as we had ordered our lunch and the waitress had gone, Emily leaned forward. “So, tell me everything. How did you meet this fella, and why did he really come home with you?”

I considered shading the truth, then decided against it. Lies were too hard to maintain, and the Liam/Ronan business was going to present enough of a challenge. Complicating that was definitely not a good idea.

“I met him face to face in New Zealand, but before that we met on the internet.”

“You’re not serious!”

“I am.”

“Good God!” she exclaimed. “You went halfway around the world to meet someone you chatted with on the internet? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? What were you thinking?”

Now, I realized, was not the time to tell her that I had gone without even seeing a photograph of him first. “I don’t know, Em. I had a good feeling about him from our correspondence. It just felt right. And besides, I—I needed an escape. I haven’t been with a man since Hal, and—Christ, Em! I’ve been lonely. Not that you aren’t a good friend, but I need a man in my life. Even if it turns out to be nothing but a good, solid friendship in the end, I like being with this man.”

“Like?” she echoed.

The waitress brought our food. We thanked her and began to eat. Maybe Emily was enjoying her meal, but mine tasted like sawdust.

“All right,” I conceded. “I don’t just like being with him. I love him.”

“Does he love you?”

“It seems so.”

“Is there really something wrong with his eyes, or were you only saying that to justify his staying with you?”

“No, he really does have a problem. Some infection he can’t seem to shake.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said at the airport,” Emily recalled.

“Well, he’s telling the truth. When I first got there, he only had it in one eye. Then after I’d been there about two weeks, it spread to the other eye. He thought he’d gone blind. He hadn’t, of course, but he didn’t know that in the heat of the moment. It happened in the middle of the night, of course, so he was disoriented to begin with. Then he panicked and fell trying to get out of bed; that’s how he broke his wrist. He hollered for me and I ran down to his room and found him on the floor. It was pretty awful.”

“Sounds like. You didn’t see much of New Zealand, did you?”

“Oh, no, I did! We had two good weeks before Ro—” I barely caught myself in time. “—before Liam’s eyes got worse. We went somewhere different every day, mostly on hikes, but he also has a beautiful boat, and we cruised around some of the most extraordinary places.”

Even as I said this, Doubtful Sound came to mind, and I was once again standing at the helm of the boat, gazing up at those amazing stars in the deep blue velvet of the sky, feeling the warmth and closeness of him. Though we were far more intimate with each other now, I would never forget the feeling of knowing that something magical was meant to happen between us. Had he known it, too?

I wondered.

Emily’s voice intruded, rather stridently. “Yo-oh! Earth calling Sarah!” She snapped her fingers under my nose.

I came back to myself quickly. “What?”

“You’ve got it bad this time, girlfriend.”

“I know.”

“What is it with you and blind guys, though? I don’t get it.”

“Oh, come on! Just because Hal was blind and Liam has an eye problem? Liam will be fine after he’s gotten proper treatment. He’s not blind now, and he’s not going to be in the future.”

“I hope not, but what if it does happen?”

“I’ll still love him and take care of him.”

“And where would you do that? Here or New Zealand?”

“Aren’t you jumping the gun a bit, Em?”

“Well, he’s got to go home sometime. Haven’t you thought about that?”

I had, though I didn’t want to. “Yes.”

“What if he’s just after a green card?”

I scowled at her. “Em, I might not be sure of much in this relationship, but I do know that Liam doesn’t want to stay here. He might like Boston for awhile, and he might make this a lengthy visit, but ultimately he belongs in New Zealand, and we both know it.”

“And what will you do when he decides it’s time to go?”

“Honestly, Em?”

She nodded.

“I wish I knew!"

***

The only thing I did seem to know, as Ronan and I got more comfortable and familiar with each other, was that I never wanted to let him go. But he was so polite and reticent, it was impossible for me to guess what might be in his mind. Maybe he would tell me someday, and maybe he wouldn’t. Though it didn’t please me to do so, I had no choice but to wait and see.

***

Apart from my company and the skills of some excellent physicians, one of the things Ronan liked best about Boston was the profusion of coffee shops where he was welcome to hang out for hours, reading and sipping mugs of cappuccino.

“This one place actually made me a triple!” he enthused, late one night after he’d been with me for about two weeks.

“And how many of those did you drink?” I asked, figuring that now I had finally found a plausible explanation for him being wide awake and chatty at two-thirty in the morning.

“Oh, I don’t know, really. It tasted so good, I couldn’t resist having more when they suggested it. Three, maybe?”

I burrowed under my pillow. “Jeeze, Ronan! That’s more caffeine than I drink in a month! Cut back on it, will you? I have to work during the week, and I can’t keep pulling all-nighters with you.”

“I’m sorry. Is it late?”

I groaned. “It’s two-thirty in the morning. I have to get up in four hours. Why don’t you go sit in the living room and read or something? And next time you decide to OD on cappuccino, get decaf!”

“I would’ve done that if I’d known it was an option. Next time I go, I’ll be sure to ask, though I don’t expect it’ll make much of a difference in the long run. Old habits die hard, y’know, and I was always a night person, thanks to my schedule.” He leaned over, plucked the pillow from my head, and kissed me. “I’ll wake you when the alarm goes off.”

“All right, thanks. Don’t let me hit the snooze button for more than fifteen minutes.”

“I won’t. G’night.”

***

He was true to his word and woke me on time, having prepared breakfast for me first. I wasn’t too sociable at that point, but by evening I felt more like talking. Over dinner, Ronan told me more about his favorite coffee house, which often featured live music on the weekends, and said he was eager to go and listen.

I was delighted that he so enjoyed rambling around the city while I was off at work. He turned out to be quite resourceful when it came to finding his way to anyplace he wanted to go, no matter how far-flung or obscure. The things he bought and carried home attested to that. It was all adding up to a very interesting collection.

In between his medical appointments and the time he spent with me, he browsed enlessly through book and music stores. More often than not, I would find him lying on the sofa when I got home, a book propped up on his chest, stereo playing softly in the background, and enticing smells wafting out from the kitchen.

He was an ideal housemate, apart from his late night insomnia. Even with his broken wrist, he did what he could to help out around the house. Cooking was a bit of a challenge, but with a rubber glove over the cast and a working knowledge of my many time-saving gadgets, he prepared all kinds of wonderful soups and salads for our dinners. And one day, after his internal clock had finally adjusted to New England time, he bought me a bread machine, and every day saw him experimenting with a new variety.

“You’re spoiling me, Ronan,” I scolded, as I helped myself to a sample of the latest recipe.

“It’s just bread, Sarah, and my pleasure to see you enjoy it,” he said, with a smile. “Besides, it’s the least I can do, after you’ve invited me to stay as long as it takes for my eyes to get better.”

“I’m glad to have you here for as long as you want to stay. You know that.”

“Yes, and I appreciate it. Oh, and I’ve been meaning to tell you! Guess what I found out today!”

“Well, judging from your enthusiasm, it’s either something to do with music, or you’re on a caffeine jag again.”

He laughed. “No, I’ve been a saint in regard to the coffee. I promised you. However, as far as music goes—I found a seisiún.”

“Really? Where?”

“Not far from here, actually.”

“Refresh my memory. How did you say a seisiún works?”

“Well, you go and listen first and decide if you want to sit in. If you do, you talk to the leader and see if the group is willing to have you, and if they are, you show up at the next one with your instrument.”

“What kind of music does this group play?”

“Irish traditional and folk—or so I’ve been told. It would be an ideal workout for me. D’you think I could borrow your guitar?”

“As if I wouldn’t loan it to you, of all people! Honestly, Ronan!”

“You don’t mind, then?”

“Of course not, but what about your wrist? You went to the orthopedist today, didn’t you? What did he have to say?”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“No.”

“Sorry, I thought I had. Well, the doctor was pleased with today’s x-rays and says he’ll take the cast off next week.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!”

“Yeah. I can’t wait to start practicing! It won’t be long at all ’til I’m in decent enough shape to play with a seisiún group. Will you come with me to hear them this weekend? You could help me decide if they’re beyond me or not.”

“Beyond you!” I scoffed, smiling affectionately. “Ronan O’Farrell, no one’s beyond you.”

“I don’t know about that. For one thing, I’ll be rusty. I never did pick up my guitar while you were visiting, and then I broke my wrist. By the time the cast comes off, I’ll not have played for about eight weeks.”

“Oh, you’ll shape up quickly enough once you can practice again.”

“That all depends on how badly I was hurt, doesn’t it?”

“It can’t have been that bad, if the ortho thinks it’s safe to take the cast off right on schedule.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But you never answered my question. Will you come with me on Sunday afternoon?”

“Of course. I’d love to.”

“I think you’ll enjoy it. The guitarist is really extraordinary.”

I knew Ronan did not bestow such high praise lightly, and figured the man in question must really be exceptional. “Really? Where does the seisiún meet?”

“In a little coffee shop on Charles Street. Wood and brick inside, with lots of plants in the front windows, and they make a mean cappuccino. Quite a lovely place.”

“Oh, I think I know the one you mean. I used to stop in there a lot, before my office got moved a couple of years ago. There was a fella who used to bake for them and work the counter—tall, skinny, with red hair and glasses—”

“I’ve never seen him, just a couple of young guys with long hair, and sometimes there’s a pretty lady who appears to be the owner. She has a baby boy, must be about a year old, just starting to walk. She was sitting in a back booth with her baby and the seisiún leader, and I wouldn’t have found out anything if he hadn’t happened to be playing guitar when I went in for my coffee.”

“Oh, then that was the counter guy. I seem to remember hearing that he was a guitarist.”

Ronan shook his head. “No, not this fella. For one thing, he doesn’t match your description. He’s real skinny and wears glasses, all right, but his hair’s gray and I don’t know if he’s tall or not, ’cause every time I’ve seen him, he’s been in a wheelchair. I doubt he could work in a restaurant kitchen.”

“Oh. It’s not the same guy, then.”

“No, but I’ll tell you, he can sure play the paint off the walls. He was finger-picking a twelve-string last time I was there—really impressive!—so I had to stop and compliment him. He was friendly, invited me to join him after I’d got my coffee, and we talked about music for awhile. Based on some of the things he told me, and on hearing him play, I think he’d be great to jam with: a real challenge for me.”

“There aren’t too many guitarists you’ve ever considered a challenge, are there?”

“Well, I don’t know,” he demurred. “I’m sure there are some. I just haven’t had much of an opportunity to seek them out. I was always too busy with my own gigs, right?”

“Right.”

He smiled at me. “Sarah, I can’t tell you often enough how glad I am that I let you talk me into coming home with you. I’m really enjoying our time together, and being in a city again.”

“I’m glad. How are your eyes today?”

“A lot better, but I still need the shades in bright light.”

“And the pain?”

“So much less. I almost feel normal again. I didn’t think such a thing was possible.”

“It wasn’t, with that bungler in New Zealand mismanaging the situation.”

“True. Ah, but now life is so good! D’you know, I feel like I have more energy now than I’ve had in years?”

“I can believe it, especially when I hear you talk about trying to link up with other musicians.”

“I think enough time has gone by. Hopefully I can get back into it without being recognized.”

I didn’t think he should count on that, but decided not to say so. It was important for him to find his way back into performing, recognition or no recognition. Ronan O’Farrell needed to make music again the way all living creatures need air to breathe. “This coffee shop seisiún sounds like a good place to start. I take it you introduced yourself as Liam O’Malley?”

“Of course, though if the guitarist is as good as I think he is, then he knows my work and he’ll recognize it, even if my physical appearance doesn’t ring a bell. However, he seems the sort of man who wouldn’t blow my cover. He might want to know the truth for his own sake, guitarist to guitarist, but he’ll also know that it wouldn’t matter much to anyone else.”

“So, you’d tell him if he asked?”

“I think so. Would you like a little more soup?”

“No thanks. It was wonderful as always, but I’m stuffed.”

“All right.” He rose and started to clear the table.

“Ronan, you’ve done enough today! Go sit down and relax. I can load the dishwasher.”

“Then we’ll do it together,” he insisted, stopping long enough to kiss me as he passed.

As many times as he had kissed me by now, I still found it hard to believe that it was all for real. Ronan O’Farrell, very much alive, had become my dearest friend and also the lover I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams. I couldn’t bear to think of the time when he would have to return to New Zealand. Would he ask me to go with him? And could I allow myself to go if he did?

I certainly wouldn’t be leaving behind much that I would miss terribly. As an only child, now that my parents were gone, I had no family left, beyond a few cousins with whom I exchanged Christmas cards. My job had changed a great deal in the last five years, and not for the better. If I had some new opportunity, be it employment or a permanent relationship, I would have no regrets about moving on. Emily, though—her friendship had always meant a great deal to me. If Ronan and I did make a serious commitment somewhere down the line, would she understand if I chose that over everything else? And of course there was Hal. Though I hadn’t been out to see him in weeks now, I did stay in touch with his sister, Lynne, by telephone on a weekly basis. I knew he was still alive, and I doubted I could leave him behind. He still had a hold on me, much as I did not want to admit it, and memories of him kept me from giving my heart and soul entirely over to Ronan.

My body, on the other hand, responded to him all too well, and tonight was no exception.

“We could continue our conversation in the bedroom,” he suggested, once we were finished with the dishwasher.

I must have hesitated for a moment, because he then drew close and slipped his arm around me, and brought his mouth to mine. “Shall I be persuading you, then?” he murmured, and traced the curve of my upper lip with his tongue.

“I won’t need much of that sort of persuasion,” I responded, and together we walked down the hall to the bedroom. In addition to being the ideal companion in so many other ways, Ronan was turning out to be a wonderfully tender, considerate lover. His initial awkwardness had not been repeated, and rather than ask any questions about his apparent lack of experience, I gently guided him and taught him what I liked best. He learned quickly, and finally, once we had achieved a certain level of comfort and ease with each other, he’d made a confession.

“Sarah?”

“Mm?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, but—”

“What, Ronan?”

The covers rustled as he propped himself up on his elbow.

“You’ve been very sweet not to say anything about it, but I know you can’t help being aware of how clumsy I am in bed.”

“Well—you were a bit awkward at first, but not now.”

“I have gotten better, then?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie about that, Ronan. If it wasn’t good, I’d find more polite ways to avoid doing it than either of us could count. But you get better every time, and I love being with you.”

He chuckled softly. “That feeling’s mutual. I’m sorry if I can’t help wondering how I rate.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, how I compare with—I mean, you’ve been with men other than me, right?”

“Isn’t that sort of inevitable at my age?”

“Not always. Some people believe in saving themselves for the right person, the right moment.”

“And sometimes even if you believe in that, the right person at the time turns out to be the wrong person later, as I’m sure you know.”

“Well—”

I expected to hear a lengthy discourse about the many love affairs he’d had over the years. After all, he had traveled the world and been handsome enough to attract women in every port.

I recalled some old concert footage I’d seen once. The audience was going wild, especially the women, and one of them daringly fired a bra at Ronan while he blazed his way through a lengthy solo. Somehow, he’d seen the piece of errant lingerie coming his way and managed to dodge it, playing all the while, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world to have women throwing their underwear at him. So his answer to my question surprised me.

“Well, I was in love once, not long before I left home, but the girl’s parents disapproved of me. I was a damn good guitarist, but I wasn’t good for much else, plus I’d let my hair grow long, and word had got out that I wanted to go and seek my fortune elsewhere. How is it you Americans put it—three strikes and you’re out?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s how it was. The relationship went sour, and after that there was nothing to hold me back. I stood in the bow of the ferry and wept all the way to Galway, but it was better than staying on the island and seeing her married to the man her parents had chosen. We’d been bitter enemies since grammar school, forever in trouble for getting into fisticuffs, and just the thought of her shackled to him still makes my blood boil, though truth to tell I fell out of love with her long ago.”

“Is she still there?”

“Yes, with a great brood of children, and still beautiful in a faded sort of way the last time I saw her. But the husband looks like one of those roving seisiún men—few teeth, old before his time from too little honest work and too much poitín. So much for her Mam and Da’s approval, eh? But that’s neither here nor there. You might find it hard to believe how many times I was propositioned over the years. I could’ve had my pick from any number of lovely women, and I might have taken it, but—I was too damn shy to accept any of them. Once or twice I got as far as setting up a rendezvous, then never had the nerve to show up for it. See, I’d always believed in my heart that one-night stands were the ultimate in shabby treatment for both people. ’Twas never a thing I could enter into casually, so I—” He broke off and cleared his throat.

“Ronan! Are you trying to tell me you never—and I’m—”

He touched his finger to my lips. “Yes. Do you think less of me for it?”

“Not at all, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised. You were so vital and—and sexy when you played, it’s hard to believe you never—but I suppose that would explain why you were so—” I cast about in my mind for a tactful way to put it, and he supplied a word that summed it up, but not kindly.

“Inept. Yes. I’m glad to know you think there’s been some improvement since that first time.”

“Oh, there definitely has been,” I assured him, as his good hand slipped between my thighs and caressed me. “Of all people, though, I would never have guessed—”

“Well, now you know. Shall we change the subject?” He stroked me gently and moved in closer, his mouth seeking mine.

“Mmmmm,” I murmured, feeling the soft tickle of his beard against my cheek as we kissed. “Was it worth the wait?”

“What do you think?” he countered, languorously draping himself over me.

We kissed awhile longer, and when I felt him rising against me, I broke free and arched up closer. “Now, Ro,” I whispered urgently. “Now.” And I put my hand to his sex and guided him into me.

***

C.P. Warner
© 29 June 2007

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