The Parting Glass by Emilie Richards

Author:Emilie Richards [Richards, Emilie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2003-11-21T20:00:00+00:00

chapter 21

Peggy and Bridie wore shorts, both with legs as pale as the whitecaps of Clew Bay. Wind blew in gusts, but the August sun was hot enough to make up for it. Bridie turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes in pleasure.

“I love sunshine. I want to pour it in a bottle and keep it for rainy days.”

“Me, too. When you live in a place where sunshine isn’t guaranteed, you learn to treasure it.”

“Kieran likes it.”

Peggy looked over at her shorts-clad son, who was sitting in a sandpile with a bucket and toy shovel. He was surrounded by wooden blocks, but so far he had only showed interest in the patches of light filtering through tree limbs. Banjax lay in the shadows, guarding him and enjoying the summer heat.

“At least he’s not afraid of the wind, the way he was when we first arrived.”

“He learns things.” Bridie paused. “Just not very fast.”

And that, thought Peggy, was the reason she awoke every morning with a heavy heart. Because Bridie was right. Kieran’s progress was so slow that she had run out of improvements to report to her sisters. She almost dreaded their phone calls and the inevitable questions about her son.

“I’m glad you could spend the day with me.” Peggy motioned for Bridie to move closer, and when she did, Peggy unplaited an unsuccessful braid, combed it with her fingers and plaited it again. The gesture was nearly automatic. She and Bridie had grown even closer over the summer, and now small affectionate intimacies were commonplace.

“My mom used to do that,” Bridie said. “Daddy tries, but he’s not very good. And I don’t think he likes it.”

Finn’s stiffness with his daughter concerned Peggy, but it was a subject they had never discussed. She knew he loved Bridie and that Bridie loved him, but the two were like strangers walking through the same forest on parallel paths.

“No one teaches boys to braid hair.” Peggy wrapped the elastic band around the end and patted Bridie’s shoulder. Bridie didn’t leave, she just snuggled against Peggy, and Peggy put her arm around her for a companionable hug. Bridie needed an adult who could show her love, and Peggy needed a child who could return it. The relationship was mutually fulfilling.

After a moment Bridie flopped down on her stomach. “When I grow up, I want to live far, far away.”

“Do you? Away from Ireland?”

“Why should I stay? This is where bad things happen.”

For a moment Peggy didn’t understand; then she realized Bridie wasn’t talking about politics or the country’s history of repression and famine. She was talking about herself and her family.

“Your daddy’s here,” Peggy said. “And he would miss you.”

“I don’t think so.” Bridie rolled to her back. “He doesn’t notice me very much.”

Peggy would rather have heard anger in the little girl’s voice than resignation. Clearly Bridie saw little chance of affecting the way her father felt.

“It may seem like it.” Peggy felt her way. “When sad things happen, the way they did to your family, everyone’s affected.

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