Published By Ria Goff Worcester, MA
Copyright © 2007 Ria Goff
ISBN 1440416141 All contents here in are property of Ria...
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Published By Ria Goff Worcester, MA
Copyright © 2007 Ria Goff
ISBN 1440416141 All contents here in are property of Ria Goff with the exception of the song lyrics, written and performed by the band Default. All rights reserved and thank you to the band for not suing me! Copyright July 1st 2008, all rights reserved. Thank you to those who loved and supported me through this process. Creation is both exciting and painful. Thank you for sharing in my journey, Ria Goff.
Glass shattered across the street in the faded yellow house and the shouting continued. She adjusted her self on the folding lawn chair and looked over at the woman beside her. “How many times now you reckon she's caught him cheating on her now?” The other woman rolled her shoulders in a lazy shrug and raised her beer can slowly. “I'd of left his ass by now” she spat the words as if they had a horrible flavor to them. “Why you think she stays?” Again she watched her companion roll her lazy shrug and shook her head. “If Rick ever pulled this shit on me I'd hit his ass with my cast iron skillet.” “Terrible use for such a nice skillet if ya ask me.” she paused licking her lips. “But seems the son of a bitch would deserve it. Should no better than to stick his pecker anywhere other than the hole it's married to.” The screen door swung open and Trent ate up the lawn with his angry walk. He wore blue jeans that were ripped at the knee's, scarred black combat boots, a ripped and faded flannal shirt that seemed to have lost it sleeves. His hair was a long, middle of his head, screaming purple Mohawk. In his left ear he wore a skull earing and in his right he wore a plain old regular silver hoop he'd had forever. Over his torn shirt he pulled on an ancient leather jacket. He looked mean as he glared back across the lawn at Shannon as she came flying out the door holding her own skillet loosely by the handle. “I wasn't done talking to you.” She waved the pan around. “I'm not talking to you while you're threatening me” He smooshed his hair with his helmet and pulled the
motorcycle key from his pocket. “I'm threatening you?!” she exclaimed in mock exasperation. She tapped her lower lip with her pointer finger for a moment and thought about his accusation. “Well.” she said slowly, trying to sound calm. “Maybe if you'd quit sticking your dick in everything that moves I wouldn't have to go through this every couple of months.” She watched as Trent took a deep breath, then reached into his shirt pocket for a cigarette. He pursed his lips and drew deeply on it, seemingly pondering what to say next. “Maybe” he said dangerously low. “If you weren't such a lousy lay I wouldn't have to go get my dick wet elsewhere.” With that he turned the key on his bike and looked pretty happy about getting the last word. He looked over his shoulder and lifted the kickstand on his bike. “Here it comes!” Jane said to the woman sitting next to her in the equally ugly and ancient lawn chair. That's when they both watched in awe as Shannon swung her skillet. “Think he's dead?” Ester looked excitedly at Jane. “Couldn't be so lucky, besides, cheater had a helmet” Ester shook her head and smiled. “I didn't think she'd do it.” She looked on proudly across the street where Shannon was violating Trent's bike as he laid unconscious on the cold black top next to it. Shannon lifted the frying pan high above her head and brought it down hard against the front headlight of the bike. She laughed with satisfaction when it broke off and rolled across the drive way. Then without another look at the bike she turned, waved at Jane and Ester and disappeared back inside the house. “Looks like the shows over.” Jane lit a filterless cigarette and sighed loudly. “Looks like” Ester agreed and sipped her beer. Across the street Trent groaned and got slowly back to his feet. He saw his bike and made a choking sound before
moving slowly towards the house. “Looks like Mr. Dick is having some trouble finding his feet” Ester cackled. “Has no trouble finding his dick in all the wrong places though.” Jane puffed, wheezed and then puffed again. “Those things will kill ya.” Ester looked over disapprovingly at her friends cigarette. “So won't lecturing me about it” Jane raised an eyebrow and nodded towards her beer can. “Little early for a drink ain't it Es?” she looked at her watch and smiled teasingly. “It's happy hour somewhere.” Ester laughed and lifted her can again. Across the street the shouting began again. Followed by several moments of silence. Raising an eyebrow Ester looked from the front door to Jane. “Whatcha think their doing now?” she lifted a new can from the cooler. “Damn her, she can never say no to him.” Jane sighed and snuffed out her cigarette. They both watched stunned as Shannon came walking out of the house carrying a duffel bag and wearing an angry expression. “Where you think she's off to?” Jane frowned and watched her walk down the street. Trent came out the front door and watched her walk for a long moment. He then turned, walked inside and closed the door behind him. After he flipped off the two old hecklers watching him across the street. She had never been so angry. Those two old crones had sat across the street deriving satisfaction from their fight. She hated that house, those women, this whole stinking town. She had been here too long, it had grown too old and it was time she move on. She turned onto the main street and flagged down a taxi. She didn't need Trent. She had talent,
contacts and places to go. The world was her oyster and she was going to start taking advantage of it. She gave the driver the name of the airport and leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed. She didn't open then again until a half an hour later when the cab came to a stop at the front door of the airport. She paid the driver hastily and went inside. There she stood looking at a huge board of flights that had arrived recently and others that were about to depart. Closing her eyes she pointed at the board with her finger and opened her eyes. She frowned at the destination but decided to honor her mental commitment of 'I will go where my finger lands'. She scooped her bag up from the floor and made her way to the ticket counter. “One ticket to Logan, please.” The attendant typed feverishly and shook her head. “That flight is full” she smiled apologetically and offered to help her go anywhere else. “What flights do you have openings on?” Shannon bit her lip and waited. The attendant rattled off a list of locations, none that really appealed to her. “If you had talent a credit card and the desire to get the hell out of Hurley to find yourself, where would you go?” She watched the attendant think it over. “Before you tell me, take that location and turn it into a ticket for me.” Shannon nodded to reassure her. The attendant looked unsure as she typed and frowned at her. “My dream destination and yours may be different.” she warned her as she printed the ticket. “Maybe my dream destinations have all worked out wrong.” Shannon said under her breath. She took the ticket, handed over her credit card and frowned. “Really, this is where you would go?” she raised an eyebrow at the attendant. “No other place like it.” The attendant smiled. “Well then, I guess I'm saying good bye to the east coast.” With that she picked up her bag and fastened the tag on it
the attendant handed her. “Thanks” she smiled over her shoulder and left to check her bag. She boarded the plane less than 15 minutes later. Her life had changed so drastically that morning. She was no longer Shannon of Crimson Bitch the band she had fronted for 2 years with Trent on the lead guitar beside her. She was Shannon, the-fuck-up-who-could-never-catch-a-break, again. She twisted her necklace and hated her father for slipping into her head just now. He had said she would never be anything. Maybe he was right. She shook off the uneasiness of being her fathers one great failure. She had never been smart enough, strong enough, girly enough for him. He had never been a man for her. He had never picked her up when she had fallen, he had never held her after a nightmare and he certainly never held his head up proudly and proclaimed, that is my daughter!. So what? She asked herself. Wasn't it his loss or something like that? The flight attendant stepped into the middle of the aisle and began explaining to them all what should happen in case of emergency. Uneasily she closed her eyes as the plane began to taxi down the run way and dreaded the flight ahead of her. She hated flying. She let out a deep breath and thought for a long hard moment. This could be good for her right? She had 15 ½ hours to think about it. The plane lifted itself from the runway and she looked at the window for the last time at New York. She hoped coming down in Clare County, Ireland would take her breath away half as much as leaving the only city she had ever known, was. She landed at the Shannon airport at 4:30am local time and she was exhausted. Her flight had been long but luckily she had fought so hard with Trent that she had slept 13 hours of the trip. They had landed barely an hour later, ahead of schedule. Her knee's were weak and her stomach pitched slightly as she stepped off the plane. What in the hell had she been thinking taking off to Ireland and leaving her life
behind? She blew out a breath and tried to steady herself. “You are looking a bit lost.” His hair was as thick as his accent and she was taken aback a moment before she smiled and nodded. “I had no idea I was coming here till about 16 hours ago.” she laughed. He smiled in return and smoothed the baseball cap he had in his hands. “Why the sudden trip then?” she stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head and lowering her eyes. “Well that's fine then. You will tell me when you are good and ready. When I am behind the bar in my pub people tell me things. Maybe you will come by, have a pint...talk some.” he smiled widely at her, then looked past her and smiled. “Here she comes now.” Pride flowed in his voice like warm honey. She watched him curiously for several long moments. She turned and watched as a younger woman came off her plane and ran to him excitedly. She studied the way the older mans eyes danced while he stood embracing his daughter and something inside her chest ached. “Do you know where you are going then lass?” he asked her softly as he stood patting his daughters shoulder affectionately. She shook her head and tried to smile bravely. “Well then. Let's get your bag. Our family owns an Inn here in county Clare.” The young woman smiled at her before gently taking her hand and leading her to the baggage claim. “I don't want to impose.” She began. “Tis not imposing when you have an invitation.” her eyes danced at her. Shannon smiled slowly. “Besides, we also own a pub, there is plenty of work to be had by those we are wanting it.” Her mischievous eyes continued there dance. “You don't even know me.” She was breathless from everything that had happened.
“In county Clare there is no need for formalities. When you come into our country we will take care of you.” she smiled at her warmly. Shaking her head, Shannon shrugged and gave in, where else would she go? Already she felt like she was at home. Walking up in another country was almost completely too much for her. Shannon rolled over, opened her eyes to the scene outside her window and felt the urge to cry pressing in behind her eyes. She needed a lawyer, a job...a clue as to what had caused her to run so far away from home. She squeezed her eyes closed for a long time, refusing to think, refusing to feel. She had just forced herself to sit on the side of the bed when someone knocked on her door. The door opened slowly and Ceara O'Neill's hair was as red as fire against her lightly brushed freckled skin. Her skin itself was paler than Shannon was used to. Where she should have looked shabby, she shined here in her room in the morning light. Her smile was wide, bright and real. After living in New York for so many years she considered herself a pro at spotting false smiles. She blushed slightly but her smile survived the scrutiny somehow. “Do you stare at everyone in such a way?” she walked around the room gently touching things. “No.” Shannon cleared her throat and looked out the window again out over the hills. “Long way from home. You must be missing your family by now.” Ceara looked over at her sympathetically. “No, not really.” Shannon shook her head but didn't offer anymore. For a few minutes Ceara didn't say much, she just sort of flitted about the room straightening up some as she went. “I came to tell you it was time for breakfast. My sister's Dealla and Nessa have been making a royal mess downstairs in the kitchen.” she smiled warmly at the memory.
“You are the first New Yorker to ever stay in our Inn and they are dreaming up a million things to ask you.” She smiled apologetically at her and stopped the flitting very suddenly. “No formal dress, just whatever you would wear at home for the day.” she smiled warmly again and took her whirlwind of energy back downstairs as quickly as it had come upon her. Several long moments had passed and Shannon was still sitting on the side of the bed wondering what she should do. When through the air vent in her room wafted the scent of something heavenly. Without another thought she was dressed and down the stairs. She walked slowly into the kitchen and felt the heart warm in her chest immediately. The old kitchen table could seat 12 easily. It was long, scarred and full of people. The two girls she assumed were Dealla and Nessa where in their early teen years. They argued amiably over the puppy who lay with his head resting on his paws under the table. Three young men sat on the opposite side of the table, eating from brimming plates and not wasting time on conversation as they female counterparts were. They were in varying stages of youth, the oldest male, Deven she was told, was 19 and looked nothing like a 19 year old New Yorker. He wore no Mohawk, he had no piercings and his clothes looked freshly washed. All of which were clear signs she was no where near home. The next older male was 17 and had fire engine red hair like almost every other person in the room. His name was Bram and though he resembled his siblings, his features were fuller, his nose slightly wider and his hands could have easily palmed a basketball. His older brother had him in age but Bram had both his brothers in size, standing a full foot and a half over them, even seated. The last male was roughly 14 years of age, she heard one of his sisters squeal the name Keelan and assumed this was him. His hair stood in bright red spikes, though it did not seem intentional, more than likely he had not brushed his
short hair after his shower. She walked further into the room and did not sit at the table right away. She was met by 7 pairs of sea green eyes and felt slightly self conscious till every single face smiled back at her. The O'Neill's were noisy, were messy, were disorganized and were one hundred percent open to having her sitting at their foreign breakfast table eating muffins and some of the best eggs she had ever had. Then the bacon, sausage, toast and orange juice they piled onto her. Nessa and Dealla assaulted her with questions about New York, what was popular there? What music did she listen to there? They were both thoroughly impressed, as young girls should be by there guests. The boys however ate in quiet concentration, absorbing every word that was spoken and packing it away for later. The last pair of sea green eyes were those of the older man from the airport. She learned quickly that their father was a quiet man and his children respected him. Quite a feat these days she thought to herself. He was older, broader and quieter than his brood. He had a long scar that ran the length of his left cheek of his face. It made him seem tougher, but the toughness melted under the light that shone from his eyes. He had the same screaming red hair as his children. His however was toned down some by age. He smiled while she struggled to eat some of everything on her plate. “They didn't feed this lass back in the states” he laughed and watched her skin flush red. She smiled and lowered her eyes. There was a series of loud barking outside and then all four men stood up and walked to the back door. They each pulled on heavy boots, lined rain coats and hats. They each smiled and said bye with a hearty wave before disappearing outside through the back door. Shannon watched them walk across one of the fields that seemed to stretch on forever here. “Is it always this loud here in the morning?” she smiled shyly and slid into a chair at the table.
“Not just the morning.” the one they had called Nessa laughed and sipped her tea. With a nod Shannon accepted a plate heaped with food from Dealla and picked up her fork. “Never realized a 15 hour flight could make you so hungry.” she dug in with a happy sigh. “Tis the Irish air, it brings on hunger like nothing else.” Ceara smiled at her as she walked towards the table holding a steaming coffee pot. “What caused ya to leave the states?” Nessa tipped her head to the side in curiosity and expertly missed her sisters dirty looks. Shannon didn't look up right away, instead she continued to eat for a moment longer, pondering her answer. “Leave her be.” Ceara clucked her tongue at her sister. “We've guests out front.” Dealla peaked through the swinging door to the front of the house. “I'll see to them” Nessa put her stone ware mug stone with a hearty thump and disappeared through the door a moment later. Dealla excused herself to see to some laundry, leaving the kitchen silent at last as Shannon pretended to continue eating. “Never mind those two. Nothing but gossips.” Ceara began to clear the table, scrapping plates and stacking expertly as she went. “Do you need help?” Shannon offered and was surprised to be looked at so amused. “You help? Now there is a first.” Ceara smiled and shook her head. “Never would I let a guest help me, this is my home and the life I have chosen.” she moved to the sink and set the dishes to soak in sudsy steaming water. “I am not a guest. I don't pay. You don't even know me.” she countered and stood to clean her own plate off in the trash can. “Other can” Ceara corrected. “The one of the right is for the farm animals, the one on the
left is for pick up.” Shannon nodded and dumped her plate in the right one before Ceara took it from her hands and dumped it in the sink with the others. “Well if I can't help what am I supposed to do?” she leaned against the counter and stared off out the window. “Explore Ireland. Go see the Cliffs of Moher or O'Briens tower or perhaps you could visit Crauggaunowen. You came here, you had a desire to see this place, so go see it.” Picking up a sponge she began to scrub one of the plates that had been soaking. “The Craug-a-what?” Shannon looked confused and stared at her as if she had three heads. “The Crauggaunowen is a museum. Do you like museums?” She continued to scrub as she studied Shannon for a long moment. “I love them.” She answered. “Them?” Ceara shook her head to clear away the cobwebs. “Museums. Back in New York I spent as much time as I could going to as many as I could. I could never get enough.” for a moment the sadness had left her eyes and she looked happy. “What do you do in your New York?” wiping her hands on her apron she moved over to the table and poured to fresh cups of coffee. The pans needed to soak and she liked to sit in between the pots and dishes. “Well, I did sing in a band for the last few years but that's over now. I'm not quite sure what I'll do when I go back, if I go back.” she took the chair opposite of Ceara and smiled in thanks for the coffee. “If you go back? If you don't go back, where will you go?” she raised an eyebrow and watched her companions mood shift in her eyes. “I am not sure. There are so many places I want to see. Now that I don't have to worry about Trent...” she stopped, stared down at her finger for a long moment, twisting the wedding band. She wore no diamond, odd Ceara thought to
herself. She didn't poke or prod over who Trent was, she let it slide by and sipped her coffee quietly. “What was the name of your band?” she asked after several long moments of what seemed like sad silence on Shannon's part. Shannon, who had been mid sip of coffee, laughed with a gurgling sound and looked at Ceara with dancing eyes. “It's stupid.” she said softly and smiled. “Did you come up with it?” when she shook her head no Ceara smiled and gently patted her hand. “Well then, you have no reason to feel foolish.” Shannon sat on the other side of the scared kitchen table, dizzy from the mileage between her and her home and for the first time in days let out the first real bellow of laughter as she told Ceara the name of the band. Ceara clucked her tongue and smiled widely. “Well that does seem like a silly name.” she told her and sipped her last sip of coffee before eying her pots. “Whys that?” Shannon asked over her shoulder as she set her mug down on the counter top. “Because you seem so nice, not really like a bitch at all.” Ceara smiled and walked back to the sink. For a moment Shannon felt the heat of her closeness, then the door opened and Nessa called out a breakfast order for Ceara to fill and the moment was gone. Color flushed her cheeks as she wondered if she had imagined it or not. Excusing herself she went back to her room and tried to figure out what the hell she was doing with her life. *~*~*~*~*~*~* ~* A hot shower made her feel more human than she had in days. She wished for a camera as she walked out the front door of the O'Neills inn and took in the flowers that ran along the edge of an old wooden fence that marked the land on the front of their lot. On the other sides of the house she
had noticed old hand built walls of stone and rock that marked the edges of their land there as well. It seemed these lines ran down the sides and along the front but out back she hadn't seen any marker of the land ending. She assumed it went back a few acres and that is where the men had disappeared to earlier that day. They asked her no questions and she was trying to return that favor. It had been a week since she had landed here and she had walked the village every day trying to learn about everything around her. The day before she had met a sheep herder named Osef who had been blocking the road with his heard on her morning walk. He had bowed low to her and smiled widely exposing twin dimples and fiery, dancing eyes. She had been amused by him for a good portion of the afternoon. She thought back now with a smile as she looked down the vacant road and remembered him and his enchanting stories of Ireland's history. She had shared his lunch with him on the grass of a deep green field and watched the sheep frolic and play. She had never realized how much sheep poop, she laughed at her exclamation of exactly that the day before and the way Osef had had to hold his sides when they began to ache from laughing at her. He had assured her that they were actually being quite considerate because she was there and told her a tall tale about a field covered in the stuff. It had been her turn to hold her aching sides as she pictured 20 frolicking, pooping sheep all wearing sailors hats and dancing an Irish jig. Osef had been kind enough to offer to show her around some of the country side. She had smiled and accepted his offer with joyous enthusiasm. He reminded her so much of her little brother, Dole, that it made her ache. The heart sick herder would have hated to hear that. She walked down the hill to the village and wondered where Osef was off to. He didn't appear to be near McKinnons as he said he would be. As she looked at the front door of the pub she wondered why he was late. She thought about Ceara and wondered if
she had noticed her avoiding her. She felt guilty but she wasn't ready to talk about Trent yet and she knew if she spent another quiet morning with her sipping coffee that she would break open and tell her everything. She sat down on a bench outside the pub and daydreamed. She often wondered what her life would have been like if Trent had been an adult instead of a horny prick. She had wanted such big things for them. To get out of the band, have a family and maybe a real home. She had always wanted a real home. She hugged herself as her mind wandered and shook off the sadness that always seemed to cloud her when she thought of home. When he stepped up in front of her and blocked the sun she was startled for a moment. Then she smiled up at him and he took off his page boy cap and bowed to her low at the waist again and made her laugh. He wore an old brown and yellow puffy vest over a white wool sweater, faded corduroys and a smile that said good morning. “Do you need me to say top of the morning again?” he offered with a kind smile. She shook her head no and smiled widely. When he had said it the day before it had been so unexpected she had almost fallen over laughing so hard. She had exclaimed, Oh my god people do talk like that! And he had laughed with her. He reached out for her hand now and led her to his truck. It was an old ford work truck, complete with wooden rails along the back and a dog in the bed. It was rusty red and ready to go, she climbed into the passenger side and settled back against the seat. He turned the key and had some wonderfully low and beautiful Irish music flowing from the speakers. They pulled away from the town and the country side quickly slipped in to distract her. He didn't bother her when she chose not to speak and she didn't question when he stopped to drop off the dog at another large farm before continuing on. “You are awfully quiet today lass, anything you need to talk about?” Osef glanced at her for a moment before turning
his eyes back to the road. “I'm not even supposed to be here.” it came out with a rush of air. “How's that now?” he turned the music down a little more and gave her his attention. “A week ago I left home in a fit, boarded a plane and landed here. No plan to come here, I wanted to go to Boston but the flight was sold out.” she blew out a shaky breath. “Do you want to start from the beginning?” Osef pulled off the side of the road and waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts. “I stayed up all night after our last show at the Halifax and he didn't come home.” “He?” “Trent. See, he had been out all night cheating on me, again.” She blew out another long breath. “Again? He cheated on you a lot?” Osef looked at her and wondered quietly why she would put up with it. “Yes. It seemed like he cheated on me whenever he could, like I meant nothing at all.” she wiped away a tear and stared out the window. “Then this Trent is a fool.” Osef handed her his handkerchief and smiled sadly for her. “I'm a fool” she sniffled. “I put up with it for years. Too many” she said sadly and blew her nose loudly. “The heart often makes us a fool.” Osef patted her hand gently. “That doesn't make you a fool Shannon, that makes you human.” he looked out his own window and hid his own scars. “I thought he loved me, that he'd give me a home and children. He wanted someone to pay half the rent.” she sniffled again. “A man who is dishonest to a woman who loves him so is not deserving of her love.” He nodded his head as he spoke.
Outside the small truck the wind picked up and the sky opened up, dumping rain on them as they sat there staring out the windows. “Maybe I am not deserving of the things I dream of.” she said sadly around a sob. “Now don't be saying that. One bad relationship isn't necessarily a death sentence.” “5” she hiccuped. “5?” he looked at her curiously. “5 bad relationships in a row.” she sighed now, blowing her nose again. “Well, perhaps you are cursed.” he smiled and she laughed softly. “Perhaps.” She reached out her hand to return the sodden handkerchief and he shook his head and smiled. “That is yours now.” he opened his door and stepped outside into the rain and ran around the truck. Pulling open her door into the wind and rain. “Tis better to see the cliffs this way anyway.” he closed her door behind her. She wasn't like most girls, she didn't shriek or whine about getting wet. She walked silently beside him for 10 minutes as they wound their ways down to the Cliffs of Moher. She stopped and caught her breath a she stood looking out over the Atlantic ocean. Osef stood back and let her look her fill before he stepped up beside her and started to point out the faint outlines of what lay around them. “These cliffs are over 200 meters high and sheer at that. Out there” He pointed ahead of him “You can see the Aran islands.” He turned slightly “And over there is Galway bay.” He smiled and turned slightly again. “If it wasn't foggy you could see Twelve pins and the Maum Turk Mountains.” He started to turn around again and began to walk, she fell into step immediately beside him. “Up here is O'Briens tower.” He walked over the land as if
it belonged to him and she supposed it did in a way. “What do you know about the tower?” she asked intrigued as they came to a top outside of it. It looked like an old tower that knights may have stood on top of to keep watch over the land and assure all was well. “Old O'Brien built it in 1835 for the tourists that came here. He built it here on the headlands as a place for all our visitors to stand and look out over one of our greatest features.” he took his hand off and tried to ring some of the rain from it before placing it back on his head. “You know a lot about Ireland.” she smiled at him. “I should.” He laughed in answer. “It's been my home for 27 years.” “I can't imagine living in one place for such a long time.” She sighed and stood beside the tower looking out over the ocean and watching the water collide with the cliffs. “This place is amazing. Can we go down to the shore?” she looked so wistful he wished they could. “Not from here.” He shook his head and sighed soul deep when the rain picked up and came down in heavier sheets. “We should head back.” he yelled over the whistling wind and took her hand, like children they dashed back to his truck. Out of breath they ran and laughed all the way back. Winded, she leaned again the side of the truck and tried to catch her breath. “Don't you mind the rain?” he sounded breathless and was soaked through and through as was she. “I love the rain. In New York when it stormed I would run outside and stand in it. I love when it storms the most though, all the heat, all that noise.” she was so caught up in talking she didn't see the look pass through his eyes. “Off we go then.” he smiled and opened her door for her. The ride back was just as quiet as the ride out had been. Both were lost in their own thoughts. They had only traveled three miles from Doolin and she would be back at the O'Neills farm any minute. She was beginning to know
the curves in the road here like she did those of New York. As they came to a stop outside the house she smiled warmly at him and thanked him for the tour and lesson about the cliffs. He smiled warmly and waved at Bram as he stepped out the front door. “Bram takes up with my sister Aggie.” he told her. “Takes up?” she smiled at the term. “He thinks no one sees the way they watch each other but even a dead blind man could see how crazy they are about each other.” he smiled and his eyes danced at the thought. “That will be a fine wedding.” he told her proudly and rolled down his window to speak to Bram. She listened to the men chat for a few idle moments about farm work and the weather, then she thanked Osef again and slid out of the truck so Bram could slide in. With a wave they were gone and she was alone in the rain. Instead of going inside she turned toward the field and walked aimlessly through the rain. She wished for a moment that she painted as she took in the rain soaked landscape around her. Even soaked it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She walked down the long flagstone wall that ran down the right side of the property till she found a spot and sat down on the wall. She had to decide what to do about Trent, New York, her life. Such heavy thinking always made her uneasy. Her whole life was in there. Yet she felt she had nothing to go back for. She blew out a sad breath and looked back towards the house. She saw Ceara come out and walk towards her, though she didn't seem to see her, yet. She looked away from her and tried to clear her head. She knew she wanted to divorce him, she knew that before she had put the final item in the single bag she had carried away from their shared house. She no longer thought of it as a home. “You're absolutely drenched.” Ceara came to a stop in front of her. Shannon thanked the rain for hiding her tears. “Did you have a good time with Osef?” she asked when she
didn't answer. Shannon nodded in answer but didn't answer her. “He is such a nice man, Bram is quite taken by his sister but I'm sure Osef told you. I saw them leave together just now.” she sat beside her on the wall. “I know you probably want to be alone but I have to tell you Shannon, I have never seen anyone so heartsick and doing so poorly to hide it.” she smiled at her kindly. “Tell me, don't tell me. Just know I will listen.” She stood to go back inside, her short red hair plastered to her hair by the rain. Shannon said her name quietly and spilled the whole sorted story right there in the rain. “Oh you poor thing.” Ceara put an arm around her and sighed. “Sometimes I wonder why women bother with men at all. They are all bastards.” Ceara squeezed her tight and turned her face up to the rain. “Though I can't imagine just buying a ticket to anywhere a ticket agent decides and hopping on a plane. First, I can't imagine spending that kind of money, blindly.” she was baffled by Shannon's laughter. “It was his money.” she snorted as she laughed. “I have his visa” she continued to giggle. “Well that's just wrong! Deserved though, so I approve!” Ceara laughed with her now, happier still that Shannon's tears seemed to have stopped. “We are both going to catch our death.” she said at last and pulled Shannon to her feet. Arm and arm they made their way across the super soaked grass and through the back door. They were greeted by a fire in the kitchen hearth, hot coffee and cinnamon buns the angel named Nessa had just pulled from the oven. Shannon went to her room were Dealla had just come from, she had drawn her a hot bath and built a fire in the fireplace in her room. Shannon thanked her and made her way to the bathroom. She peeled off her clothes and lowered herself into the steamy water.
She was learning to love this place and all the people in it. She soaked away the chill of the cold morning, climbing from the tub finally only after her skin had pruned. She pulled on the pale blue sweat suit that Dealla had laid out for her and stuffed her feet into the slippers that had appeared on the bedroom floor. She called out a sleepy come in, as she laid back on the bed watching the fire and dozing slightly. Nessa carried in her lunch tray and set it on the small window adjacent table. Shannon thanked her and smiled again as the young woman left. She ate her lunch in blissful silence while watching the rain out the window and listening to the crackling of the fire. She was so content as she finished her coffee and bun that she decided to take a nap. It did not take her long to fall asleep and when Ceara came in for the tray she paused for a long moment and watched her sleep. Then as quietly as she had come, she was gone. *~*~*~*~*~* ~* The following day was a blissfully sunny affair and Shannon had no intention of missing out on any of it. She asked for directions to the art store in town but was told there wasn't one. Ceara offered to drive her over to the next town later that day for anything she may need. Whistling to herself she decided to hike out over the fields behind the house, curiosity had finally gotten the best of her. She took off by foot and walked out the way she had seen the male O'Neills go every morning after breakfast. The sun was warm on her face and the fields were quiet, the birds sang as they flew over head from tree to tree and she hummed to herself as she walked. Finally after about a mile or so, she walked out into a clearing, sprouting from the grounds were little tree's for as far as she could see. She walked amongst the tree's for a while but saw none of the O'Neill men.
Finally, about to give up she turned around and saw Bram walking towards her. “They are the Sitka Spruce” he told her as he pulled off his gloves and wiped his hands on his grimy pant legs. “We used to farm edibles, fruits, grains, vegetables but the soil is a cruel mistress and her teet just didn't hold their life.” he turned around and looked out over the field behind her. “Over there about another stones throw are cows. We spend most every day milking them and luckily those teets are kind.” he smiled and pulled his gloves back on. “My Dad, Deven and Keelan are over there now getting ready to milk the ladies. Though they won't get much done with that puppy hovering about.” he looked past her again and smiled. Shannon turned and saw instantly why he would smile so widely. A woman with dark brown hair walked towards them carrying a blanket and a basket. “Tis my lunch break.” He explained as she drew closer and color crept up his cheeks. Shannon didn't have to ask who she was. Aggie, as they called her, could not be mistaken with the way Bram was fussing about as she approached. She smiled at the dark eyed woman and waved over her shoulder. “Have a good lunch.” she said and caught the color that took to the woman's face as well. Then she knew that she and Bram were more than taken to one another. With a happy spring in her step she continued in the direction of the cows and wondered if she would ever be 'taken' again. He was a mountain of a man and he stooped down to clean the utters of a cow and smiled at her calf as it stood pressed against her side. Bram Senior chucked the calf under the chin and smiled at her mother. “She'll be a fine lass, won't she now?” he stood and pulled his stool under him and sat down slowly. He seemed far too large for such a tiny stool and he should have looked silly but he didn't.
“You milk them right here in the field?” she stopped just over his shoulder and watched his huge hands work gracefully. “Where else?” he asked with the smile rich in his voice. “In the states everyone does such things in a barn.” she watched the calf try to suckle form its mother and watched the man stop to let it. “Well here in Ireland we prefer to see the land we work on day in and day out.” he smiled at her warmly. She smiled in return and watched the calf run off now on it's wobbly legs. “How are you getting about?” he asked and looked into the bucket with a sigh. “Just fine. It is so different here.” she stared off after the calf. “Whatever you left behind at home will still be there until your heart tells you its answer.” he smiled sadly now, almost as if he understood without asking. She nodded but didn't answer for some time. “I've made up my mind.” she nodded bravely when he met her eyes. “Has your heart made up its own?” he and scooped up the stool and bucket and started to walk towards the barn he chose not to work in. “My heart made up its mind before I was on the plane here.” saying it out loud seemed to free her from some of the weight she felt trapped under. “A step in the right direction then.” he nodded and began packing away the mornings tools and tack. “About the room...” she began and was surprised by how quickly his expression changed. “The room is yours for as long as you chose to stay. I want no money and no offer of help. When a woman leaves her home and flies this far away, then she is flying that far to find herself.” he placed the last wire brush on its peg and walked to the door to close up. She didn't comment on what he had said, she hadn't needed to. Sometimes looks
conveyed more emotion than words. “Where to now?” she asked, happy to change the subject. “McKinnons.” he picked up the bucket of milk and headed back towards the house. “Lunch break?” she asked as she fell into step beside him. She had to walk twice as fast to match his furious face. “Nay Ma'am” he smiled. “My family has owned McKinnons for almost 30 years now. It was a gift from my wifes Dad on our wedding day. Mr. McKinnon always took care of his own. We'd have done just fine without it but I don't love my pub any less.” he didn't seem to be breathing heavy at all, which surprised her because she was finding it hard to breathe and was sweating profusely. He seemed to notice all of this very suddenly and slowed his pace down to match her shorter one. “Can I ask where your wife is?” she saw him harden slightly, his eyes grown steely cold for an instant before he cleared his throat and slowed further still. “About three years ago she started to sleep a lot. She always felt ill. We thought the inn and the pub were wearing her thing.” he paused to shake his head. “She would never make time for the doctor. Finally after several weeks of this we called in Doc Connor. Twas too late by then.” they approached the back of the house them and set the bucket down on the low wall before resting his large frame upon it. “We tried everything. Chemo therapy, trial drugs, radiation. Nothing worked. In the end Rose was bald, bitter and just as sick as she had been to begin with.” his hand paused as he reached out for the milk again. “I'm so sorry.” she said softly and watched the hardness soften in his eyes. “Me too. They say when you have lived your life well and you have given all you can on this plane, you leave for a higher, more wonderful plane. I believe when I am done
here I will find my Rose there and we will still have our last dance.” he smiled vibrantly now and turned toward the house. “Now you will have to excuse me lass. I am late opening my pub and the lunch crowd is likely to lynch.” he offered her a small wave and a smile and disappeared into the house. She sat on the wall for a long time thinking about all he had said and felt her heartbreak for him and his children. It must have been so hard for them all to watch their Rose wilt. She was sitting on the wall still when Ceara came outside to find her. “Are you ready to go then?” she asked and stood patiently watching her. Shannon nodded and stood to stretch her legs. Together they walked around the side of the house and climbed into another work truck where Bram Senior smiled at them. “So we meet again.” she smiled at his greeting and settled back against the seat. “We are going to use Dad's truck after we drop him off at the pub.” Ceara explained and Shannon nodded. “Does the whole family work at the pub?” Shannon settled back against the seat and listened to Ceara and her father go back and forth good naturedly about how he wished his children would help out at the pub more. Ceara laughed in response stating that his family had a farm and an inn to run they had no time for a pub as well. They were greeted outside McKinnons by Osef who had left his flock with his helper so he could eat lunch in town today. He greeted them all warmly and asked about their plans. Ceara hung back a moment and watched how Osef mooned over Shannon, though she didn't seem to notice in the least. He smiled at her and she stepped into the conversation at once. “If we are going to make it to the art store we best be off.”
Ceara waved at Osef and lead Shannon to the truck. He stood on the sidewalk and waved at them until the truck went around the bend and they could no longer see him. “That boy is taken by you.” Ceara said cautiously as she maneuvered their way down the meandering country roads. “Who? Osef?” Shannon shook her head and smiled. “He is just a friend.” she sounded so sure of that that Ceara worried about the dangers of letting Osef believe he had a chance with this heartbroken woman who sat beside her. “Just a bit of friendly advice then.” she paused a moment “Don't let the boy lead with his heart. He has had enough heartsickness already to last a life time.” she reached out and patted Shannon's hand on the seat beside her, then refocused on the road. Shannon watched the countryside as it slid by, asking questions from time to time about the places they passed. They got to O'Riellys craft store just about 1:30pm and Shannon was lost immediately inside its packed aisles. Ceara stayed at the counter in front to chat with the owners daughter, Brie, Shannon heard in passing. She wandered down aisle after aisle of paints and brushes, sandpaper and storage bins. When Ceara came to look for her at last she was standing in the middle of the aisle with her hands on her hips and her lip caught between her teeth unable to decide what she wanted to buy. “Maybe I can help?” She offered and came to stand beside her. “What exactly is it you do?” she asked Shannon whose eyes never left the shelf. “Some of everything. I love to work with painted glasses. You know leads and stains.” Shannon blew her bangs out of her eyes with a long sigh. Ceara pondered the kits in front of her for a moment. “Do you know how to cut glass?” she asked finally. Shannon thought for a moment and nodded. “It has been a long time but I could probably remember how to to it.” nodding she turned away from the display. “Well if that is the case then, you don't need these kits at
all. I'd buy my leads and stains, brushes, what have you and use the glass dealer in Doolin for the rest. This way you don't have to come back here every time you run out.” She smiled as she saw Shannon's excitement grow. “Gives me more creative freedom as well.” with this thought in mind she turned towards the stain display and started tossing one of very color into her basket. “That is a lot of stain.” Ceara laughed. “Well, I've got a lot of misplaced creativity.” Shannon smiled at her in return and headed for the register after picking up two packages of brushes and several tubes of lead. She didn't balk at the total, though Ceara did as Shannon smiled and paided the 206.89$ graciously. Arms loaded down by bags they headed back to the truck and Ceara eyed her suspiciously. “You used his Visa again?” she laughed because she didn't need the answer once she saw the lightening bolts in her friends eyes. “Eventually he will turn that off.” Ceara smiled at Shannon who rolled her eyes in answer. “Till then though it may not be honest, it sure if fun.” It took a little over 35 minutes to drive back into Doolin, during which they had chatted about this and that. Shannon hadn't been friends with a girl in a long time and was enjoying herself immensely. They pulled into the glass stores parking lot and agreed to have lunch together after they picked up the glass. A man with dark hair smiled at them as they came in. Seth McLachlan had gone to school with Ceara and for a long time had lived on the farm beside theirs. He took down Shannon's glass order and chatted circles around Ceara, exchanging bits of information about this or that as they waited for one of the shops workers to get the glass from the storage room. He came in shortly after and announced he had loaded it onto the bed of the truck for them. Seth rang them up with a kind smile and
accepted the visa card. “Can I ask who Trent is Ms.?” He paused for a moment, then Shannon smiled sweetly and said “My husband of course” he nodded then and handed her her receipt. Ceara waved at him and they were gone again. “Why is your husband not here with you?” Ceara asked her, testing the waters as they climbed back into the truck. Shannon waited a long moment before answering. “We had a bit of a falling out.” she offered in answer and sat looking out the windshield into nothingness. “A falling out? Wives don't leave home and fly to another country over a falling out.” She turned the trucks engine over and drove back down the main rode to the pub. “This one does.” Was all Shannon would offer in answer. Ceara knew she needed more time so she let it go and parked in front of the pub and smiled at her father through the front window. “There's my girl!” Bram senior bellowed as they walked in. He immediately drew two pints for them and placed coasters on the counter. He took turns building first one pint, then the other while chatting with the numerous patrons all around them. Both women pulled off their jackets and hung them on the back of their chairs. Ceara sipped from her pint immediately while Shannon studied the lunch specials. “Save yourself some time.” An older man to Shannon's left offered. “Just order the corned beef and cabbage.” he winked and took his pint across the bar where he joined a heated conversation. “Jack's right.” Ceara smiled at him from across the room and waved. “Nothing beats that special.” she ordered a plate for herself and smiled when Shannon followed suit. “Next time we will have to sit in a booth.” Shannon looked around and felt the pub encompass her. It was very Irish,
warm and homey. “We will be moving to a booth once our plates are up.” Ceara explained. “No one eats at the bar.” she smiled as another group of people came in with loud greetings. “Lively place.” It was then when Shannon realized just how far she was from home. As she watched friends embrace each other hugging and shaking hands. She felt her own hands shake and wondered for the first time if she had made the right decision. She felt a little faint and pressed her hand to her stomach. “You alright there?” Ceara had taken their coats to their booth and hung them on the wooden pegs on either side of it. Shannon stood and wavered for a moment, nauseous and for a moment, confused. Ceara took her elbow and lead her from the noisy main area down a hallway into the kitchen, through the kitchen and into a private rest room. “Sit down.” She ordered her and pushed her gently towards the toilet. Shannon closed the lid and rested on it. She put her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands while she watched Ceara wet a cloth with cold water and bring it to her. “Thank you.” Shannon took it and wiped her face. Ceara nodded and squatted in front of her. “What happened?” She was concerned about what she had seen in her face a few moments before. “I was overwhelmed I guess.” Shannon paused, pressing the cool cloth to her forehead. “I'm so far from home and I have all these decisions I have to make. Some of them are huge and I...” she paused, cleared her throat. “I understand.” she patted her hand and took the cloth back to the sink, wetting it with cold water again. “The whole time I was in New York all I wanted to do was come home.” Ceara passed her the cloth back. “In my head I could see the fields and smell the rain. Oh, how it made me ache.” she shook her head.
“I could hear my Dad and siblings bickering happily and I'd want to cry.” she sighed at the memory and picked a ball of lint of her gray sweater. “Why were you in New York?” Shannon studied her now, curious. A tap on the door stopped Ceara from answering her. “Lunch is up.” Jollie, the families long time pub cook called through the door. “Think you are good to eat now?” When Shannon nodded in answer Ceara grabbed her hand and lead her from the bathroom. She stopped on the way to chat with Jollie and introduce Shannon. Jollie looked her up and down slowly and smiled at Ceara. “Take this skinny lass out front and feed her some of my lunch. She might blow away in a good storm.” she chuckled and waved them off. Back in their booth their plates were put in front of them almost as soon as they sat down. Ceara smiled at her Dad and offered him to join them. He shook his head and welcomed the next bunch of new comers, he was clearly in his element as much here as he had been in his field with the calf. Shannon dug into her plate surprised by how much she liked the food. She listened to the towns folk talk and laugh and tease as she sampled turnip and carrots as she had never had them before. She sighed happily over the saltiness of the meat and the softness of the potatoes. She even ate all her cabbage. Ceara was happy to see her eat that way. Her friend had been looking drained and so sad since she got here it was nice to see the humor of the pub and the warmth of the food and drink bringing the color back to her cheeks. They listened as two men played a traditional Irish jig and watched with joy as three of the mens wives got up to perform the dance for them. When the song ended it swelled into something sad and slow and Shannon listened quietly with tears threatening her eyes. The song swelled on and on, heartbreaking note into note
telling the tale of a man who loved his lover at sea. The man who sang the song did so so heartbreakingly you could almost see his love being swept away right there in the pub. Their plates were cleared and Ceara figured she had had enough culture for the day. She waved to her Dad and said goodbye to most of the pub then made their way out to the truck. Ceara told her about the work shop in the back of the house. It would have all the tools she would need for her glass work. The rest of the ride went in silence. Only once they came to a stop in the driveway and Ceara had honked for Bram to come out and carry Shannon's stuff for her did they finally speak. “Do you have the name of a lawyer I could use?” Shannon asked, her voice wavered a moment but her strength returned quickly. “Our family uses Hannon O'Keefe.” Ceara pondered her for a moment. “I will put a call in for you myself.” she offered and climbed from the truck. Shannon nodded and followed her, thanking Bram as he took both cartons of glass into the house for her. “When I am ready to talk to someone Ceara, I will tell you everything.” her friend nodded and smiled warmly at her. “Oh, I know.” she answered and smiling over her shoulder she disappeared inside. She found the work shop easily enough. It was a huge space and the whole back wall held metal shelving and what seemed to be a glass furnace. She noticed immediately that this room had been added on, most likely for that furnace. She wondered who used it, if anyone anymore and settled down to cut her first sheet of glass. While she thought up a design, Keelan stopped in to grab a pair of boots that had been on the floor near the door. “If you break any of that glass toss it in the bin over there.” he motioned towards a big blue trash can. She nodded at
him and watched him disappear as quickly as he had come in. She noticed buckets of sand that sat under the furnace and wondered again who worked here. Pushing the thought aside she she leaned forward with the glass cutter pinched in her fingers like a pencil. She placed it on the smoother side of the glass and slowly began to draw out the oval she had decided to start with. The cut looked like a scratch upon the glass and when she was done, just the slightest push fried the glass from its hole. She blew out a happy breath that there were cracks or gaps in the piece she had just cut. Taking it she walked to one of the metal tables that sat several feet from the furnace and put her glass down. In her head she had worked up a design and now she sat trying to visualize it before her. With a confident hand she began grozing the glass. Taking from the edges all little extra and unwanted pieces of glass. She thought for a moment about purchasing a grinder to do this with as she worked the grozer pliers around the edge of the oval until it was smooth and safe for handling. She picked up her lead and decided not to foil the back of this project, leaving it open so in the end it would be a beautiful sun catcher. She began to mix her lead and tin using a 64/37 ratio for this decorative piece. She hummed to herself quietly and continued to work on this piece for almost three hours before she stopped to stretch her legs and neck. The work room was a tad on the hot side and she left her project on the table and made her way inside for a can of soda or tea, whatever was wet, cold and accessible. She found the house empty on the ground level and and helped herself to a few homemade chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk instead. She sat at the kitchen table and ate the cookies while thinking about colors in her head. Her leading was done and now she would apply the coloring before baking the entire project in the oven that sat across from the furnace. She wondered again who used it but dismissed the thought as she rinsed out her glass, grabbed a can of soda
and headed back to the work room. The room that had been quiet when she left was now was now a center of noise and heat. Shannon paused in the door and watched as Ceara expertly fired up the furnace and tied back her hair, seemingly in one move. She wore a pair of cut off shorts and an old blue faded t-shirt that had the words 'just do it' written across the back with a Nike swoosh beneath the phrase. She watched as Ceara checked the temperature of the furnace. She nodded and set about setting up her work area, she had yet to see Shannon standing there as she sang along to the Cranberries as she adjusted her bench, paddles, jacks, tweezers,blocks, marvers, pontil and shears. She watched as she picked up her blowpipe and set the tip in the furnace to heat up. She had admired blown glass her entire life but she had never seen anyone do it in person. She dipped the blowpipe in a pool of molten glass and gathered it on the end. She then moved quickly to the marver on her bench and rolled the glass on the thick piece of steel. She then leaned in and began to blow air down the tube into the glass. She watched as Ceara maneuvered the pipe with ease, blowing into it and shaping the glass as if she had done this all her life. Ceara picked up a jack and began to shape the piece of glass as she worked on it vigorously, as if she had twelve hands. Shannon watched in awe as the piece of glass became a beautiful glass ball. Ceara rolled the ball through a carefully placed row of cane, picking up several colors of glass and changed the look of the piece quickly. She watched as Ceara then did something that astounded her more than the rest, she twisted a second bubble out of the cane she had just rolled through and worked the two bubbles together. Each bubble twisted in a different direction. Then she brought the two bubbles back into one with air through the tube, combining all the colors in a wonderful kaleidescope effect. She used the the punty to hold the piece while she worked on shaping the top with the jack. In mere moments raw glass had been transformed
into what looked like an exsquite glass dish, in rainbow colors. She knew the furnace was were the molten glass was heated, the glory hole was used to reheat the piece as a glass worker worked and the Annaaler was where the final piece would cool slowly without breaks from cooling too fast. Shannon was astounded when she looked at her watch that an hour had gone by. She stepped back into the room now as Ceara placed the glass into the Annaaler to cool and noticed her for the first time. She wiped the sweat the streaked her face with the sleeve of her shirt and smiled in welcome at Shannon who handed her over the can of soda, she needed it more than her. “I saw your piece on the table there.” Ceara gestured towards it, speaking over the music. “It is going to be wonderful.” she smiled and took a seat on a stool at the table across from where Shannon was working. She had to let her arms rest for a moment before starting again. The heat wore her out more than anything, the furnace burned at 2000 degrees at all times. “I had no idea you were a glass blower.” Shannon sat down on the stool and gestured to the furnace. “That was incredible.” she smiled shyly. “Spying on me now are you?” Ceara laughed and pointed towards the wall behind Shannon. “That small fridge is full of water and soda, help yourself.” she noticed Shannon sweating from the intense heat in the room. “Thanks” she got up and got herself a bottled water and sipped greedily. “How long have you been working glass?” she asked her as she checked her leading and began arranging her colors mentally. “Well, when I was just a wee lass my Mum was always out here with the furnace. Taught me everything she knew.” she smiled. “So as I got bigger, more able to handle the pipe, I was
allowed to experiment more and more. I can't imagine doing anything else with my life.” she smiled sadly a moment. “You miss your Mom?” Shannon asked softly. “Quite a bit. I guess when I come in here to work I feel her the closest to me. When I was a girl she would stand here with me for hours, so patiently guiding my small hands, guiding my lungs.” She shook off the memory and tried to smile. “What about you, how long have you worked with glass Shannon?” Ceara tossed her empty soda can across the room into a pale and stood to set up her next row of cane and murrine. “I went to art school and I majored in glass work. So it hasn't been that long, maybe 8 years. When I went to school I thought it was because I wanted to paint but I feel head over heels for glass. Then I stopped doing it for a while.” she sighed at the thought. “Why did you stop?” Ceara picked her pipe up and began the process again. “Trent.” Shannon bit the word off and began to color her glass with a steady hand and deadly focus. “This Trent sounds like he did you no favors.” She rolled the glass on the marver as she spoke, blowing into the tube as it moved. “No, he had his good points. Granted not many...but some.” Shannon paused to watch her work for a moment. “He saved me from myself at a point where I thought I was lost.” Shannon blew out a heavy breath and watched as Ceara expertly rolled the glass through the strips of colors she had set out, form two bubbles then work them into a flower. She was astounded by the quick movements and ease she seemed to work with. “How so?” Ceara asked lowered the flower into the glory hole for reheating. “When I met him my parents had just died, I lost my job,
my place to stay...I was having a horrible week.” she laughed softly. “Then there he was. His hair was dishelved, his eyes a little devilish and my heart slipped so easily into his hands.” She scowled now. “That is not a happy face.” Ceara clucked and broke the flower off carefully onto the pontil. “I know.” She hesitated. “I just thought I had found the guy that would make everything alright, ya know?” “No, I don't know.” Ceara paused a moment and blew out a heaving breath. Her muscles strained as she finished this delicate flower and set it to rest in the Annaaler beside the other she had finished before it. Shannon studied her for a long time. “You've never been in love?” she asked her carefully, watching her face. “Oh, I've been in love.” Ceara met her eyes now and held them for a long moment. “But you said....” she broke off as understanding dawned on her. “Does your father know?” she watched as Ceara shook her head. “No one does.” she flicked her wrist and opened a bottle of water, then sat back across from Shannon. Shannon stood and placed her finished project in the oven and closed the door softly behind her. “Wow.” was all she said as she came back to the table and sat down. “Have you ever...? Been with a woman?” Shannon saw something flash through her eyes and wished she could bite her tongue. “Yes.” Ceara said softly and Shannon wished she hadn't caused the sadness that moved into her eyes. “This is what I was doing in New York.” She answered Shannon's question now from days before. “This? You were blowing glass in New York?” Shannon
tried to shake some of the cobwebs out of her head. Ceara laughed. “No. I was debuting my art for the New York branch of an Irish museum.” she smiled slowly. “And? How did it go?” Shannon wiped the sweat from her forehead. The heat in here was stifling. Ceara stood and walked to the door, which she swung open and released some of the heat from the room. “I sold out. They bought everything.” She smiled brilliantly into Shannon's eyes. “Wow, that is amazing!” Shannon smiled and clapped her hands for her excitedly. “I know! Problem is they placed so many more orders. Not that anyone asked for anything specific but I have to send them so many pieces by such a date. I've never worked that way before.” she glanced at her furnace nervously and blew out a slow breath. “This is what you love...it will work out...wait... Irish museum in New York? Sold out Irish glass worker Ceara Llieno?!” Shannon's eyes opened wide as bewilderment set in. “Tis Ceara O'Neill backwards.” she laughed at Shannon's expression. “I can't believe this.” Shannon sputtered, pleasure flooding her features. “And you” Ceara spoke softly. “I saw you play at the Pixie. Your voice is like smoke and fire, hot and intense. Emotional.” “You saw my band?” Shannon looked shocked. “I saw your band.” She nodded. Shannon thought for a long moment. “I haven't played at the Pixie in months.” she thought for a long moment. “You did a cover of the Cranberries song, dreams, my favorite.” she smiled into her eyes. “I thought for sure when the music started I would be
offended...then your voice...you made me miss home.” she smiled warmly again at the memory. “I can' t believe I am sitting in the work room of Ceara.” Shannon laughed. “Oh, pfft.” Ceara blew out a long breath. “I am no one but myself. I make glass...” she smiled confidently for a moment. “I make glass wonderful.” her eyes danced. “You certainly do. Back at my place in New York I had this bowl you did, it had a cobalt and clear finish but the bottom of it...” “Had a four leaf clover floating in the middle.” Ceara finished for her. “That is one of my favorite pieces, it broke my heart when they said it had sold. I am glad it was you who got it.” She picked up her pipe now and stepped back to the furnace. “I am sorry.” she said and dipped the tip again. “I have one week left and I'm down 28 pieces.” she nodded towards the two that cooled. “Do you mind if I watch you for a while.” “Don't be upset when my mind goes off and I forget I am not alone.” Shannon smiled at her in response and settled back to watch. Her own project was to bake for hours over low heat. The rain poured outside now, soaking the hungry earth and she had never wanted to be somewhere more. So she settled back and let the afternoon slide away. After her day of watching Ceara work she was unsure about the conclusions she had come to on the other womans behalf. She had thought she was someone who lived in rural Ireland who took care of her family and loved doing it. She had been right but on the same side of the coin there was this complex and talented woman, who for days she had spoken to without even knowing that she was this famous glass artist. She found that she felt slightly silly
because of this. Which in itself was silly. Ceara was Ceara...whether she flipped her name and sold out glass shows or not. Osef had stopped by the evening before to ask Ceara down the the pub. She had declined gently and smiled at him. “You are so much like my brother Osef” she had said just as gently, hoping the meaning would convey to him without causing him any hurt. He had smiled down into her eyes and said gently “Someday, Shannon, perhaps you will see me differently.” As she had stood watching him leave she had known Ceara was right, Osef was taken with her and she felt helpless to stop the situation. She had told him her story out of grief and he had listened out of kindness. Now he felt his heart had somehow begun to tangle with hers, that just wasn't the case on her end. So instead she had explained how she wasn't ready for another man in her life and prayed for now that he could accept that. She wished however that she had chosen her words better. Later off he had been gone for a while she realized that later those words could come back to bite her in the ass. She brushed it aside and went to dinner with the O'Niells. It had been a loud and noisy affair, as everything seemed to be in their home. The guests from England had shared their table and everyone had spoken at once, laughed and ate till they thought they would bust. Shannon caught Ceara watching her over the table several times during the meal and chalked it up to their understanding of each other. She excused herself early and made her way to her room. She had sat in her window seat for hours, reading a book she had borrowed from the families library downstairs and watching the stars on and off. Just after she turned out her light and changed into one of the few bed shirts she had packed, she saw Osef pull off the rode and climb out of his truck. He stood in the moonlight for a few moments just looking up at her window and she knew that even though he couldn't see her, he knew she was there. She closed her eyes and prayed his feelings would pass
quickly. She couldn't afford the complication of another man in her life. Didn't want anyone else in her life. She had spent so long trying to be Trent's wife, that she had forgotten simply how to be Shannon. She backed away from the window, climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. The fire burned low as embers in the hearth across the room and the warmth of the brandy she had sipped moments before spread through out her veins. Peacefully she drifted down the stairs and out into the night air. Mist danced upon it and the grass already glistened under feet. She tipped her head and listened intently to the silence, that was something there wasn't quite enough of in the city. She wandered the yard for a several long minutes, just humming to herself and enjoying the quiet. When she turned the corner of the house she came to a stop. There in the clearing sat the O'Neills, their faces lit by fire light as laughter and music rang out to mix with the misty night air. She turned to retreat back indoors and leave them to their family moment. Ceara called out for her to come join them and all at once she was encompassed by the chaos that was O'Neill. Bram Sr. strummed an ancient guitar and the sound rang out as true and wonderful as the day it was built. “I hear you are a singer lass.” He smiles over at her as color began to creep up her cheeks. “Aye, she is Da but a shy one at that.” Ceara laughed and plucked a marshmallow from the end of her stick and testing its temperature with the tip of her tongue. Shannon took the seat beside Bram Sr. and accepted the guitar easily as he passed it to her. Shannon strummed it testingly, stroking the strings like long lost lovers. Her eyes drifted shut and the music that flowed through her came out rich and strong. She sang an old Irish song that her Grandmother had taught her when she was little. She remembered it word for word as if it were yesterday. She closed her eyes and gave into the song and the feel of making music and her heart, for one brief moment, snapped
open and overflowed. By the last verse of the song the girls had tears in their eyes and the boys were mesmerized by her. When she finally stopped singing and handed the guitar back to Bram Sr. he had to clear his throat before speaking. “You do Ireland proud, Lass.” His voice was gruff and he excused himself and most of the children soon after. Once everyone was inside and it was just Shannon and Ceara, Ceara passed her back the guitar and smiled. “Play something else.” “Like what?” Shannon smiled and toyed with the strings. “Play your favorite song, whatever it is.” Shannon found herself smiling at this very odd request but she began to strum the strings quietly and once again she found herself lost in the sound of the guitar and her own voice. The song was sad and it had a way of twisting itself into your heart, making you listen even when you want to turn away. She played it with her eyes closed and with such feeling that Ceara wasn't surprised when she felt the tears spill over and run down her cheeks. She was surprised by the fact that Shannon was crying but didn't seem to notice it at all. She seemed to far away and lost in it that she just sat back and watched her. When the music stopped their hearts ached in unison but neither spoke of it. “Why is that your favorite song?” Ceara asked softly. “My Mum used to sing it to me when I was little. Then it was just a silly song she sang softly to me while she settled me into bed. It wasn't until I was much older and I heard the song on the radio that I realized the beauty and the pain behind it.” Shannon handed the guitar back to her and began to stand up. “Do you have to go in so soon?” Shannon smiled, cautiously. “I don't have to but it is growing late...I should” “Stay for a but longer.” Ceara pleaded softly. Whatever feeling had faded earlier wasn't fading now and Shannon wanted distance a clear head. She hadn't come to Ireland to
awaken sleeping feelings, she had come to escape her life. Without further explanation she shook her head and waved good night. Ceara had no choice but to watch her retreat. She had seen the shadows pass within her eyes and she wondered but that's all she could, wonder. She carefully put out the remains of the fire pit and went inside. She could have sworn as she passed Shannon's room that she heard weeping, she paused only briefly and then, knowing she should mind her own business, she moved on. *~*~*~*~* Shannon awoke with a start when she saw white flakes floating past her window. She had thought it would be too soon in the month of November for snow to fall. Then she realized with a start once again that she was not waking up in New York and it did snow other places. She wished she had been foreseeing enough to have packed warmer clothes and decided to ask Ceara to take her shopping. Ceara must have known because over the back of an old wooden chair hung the wool sweater she had seen her wearing just days before. With it was warm wool socks and a pair of jeans that Shannon recognized as her own. The girl thought of everything. Glancing at the clock mounted above the hearth she decided to skip breakfast and take a shower right away. It was almost 9:30am and she had an appointment with Hannon O'Keefe at 10:45am. When she came back from showering there was a tray with her breakfast sitting on the small window table, she smiled despite the fact she had decided to skip breakfast. Checking the time again she saw that it was 9:58am and she had plenty of time to eat. So she sat down and pulled off the plates cover, sniffing at the fragrant eggs and fruit that adorned the plate. She sipped her tea and sighed, Nessa and Dealla sure were good at breakfast. She ate with an appetite she had thought had long since died. Finished, she pulled on her coat only to
find it didn't fit on over the sweater. She hung her coat back on the hanger in the closet and decided to borrow one from someone in the house. Though when she got downstairs there was no one to be found. Nessa and Dealla would be changing sheets and cleaning the guest areas. Ceara had already done the dishes and from the sounds at the back of the house was already hard at work with her glass. It was snowing pretty hard so she assumed that the men would be out securing the cows in the barn and making sure they were milked and fed. She wished she had time to spend working on her glass but she didn't just now. She also made a mental note to ask Ceara how to teach her to blow glass when she wasn't so busy. Maybe she was better off taking a class. She looked around for a coat and not finding one paused at a note on the kitchen table addressed to her. It simply stated that Mr. O'Keefe would be calling on her this AM and she need not travel to his office in this weather. Relieved, she poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down at the table. She thought for several long moments about how hard it must be for Ceara to live in her secret world. Then she remembered that she had been linked to a model in New York City when she had been there. She wondered now if that model was the woman she had been in love with. She sipped from her mug, startled when Ceara came into the kitchen dripping sweat and distracted. She was holding her hand and muttering under her breath. Shannon got up immediately and took her hand to look at it. “What happened?” she asked taking in the burn and worrying her lip. “Hand between the punty and the glass. Tis nothing.” Ceara tried to step around her. “I can't get to the salve if you won't move.” Ceara swore lightly as Shannon gently checked her hand. “Do you need me to call a doctor?” She watched Ceara grab a tube of ointment from a cabinet shelf and twist the
cap off with her teeth. “No need. I am used to this Shannon. It's really nothing.” Ceara squeezed the tube with her good hand. “Nothing?” Shannon bit her lip. “Your skin is bubbling, looks like something to me.” “I'm more pissed over the fact I'm going to miss my deadline. The crates came today and I only have half of the pieces done. I have several more cooling...but it is not enough.” She sat down at the table with a roll of gauze and a roll of medical tape. Shannon slid her chair over and wrapped her hand for her, taping it off at the wrist. “You are the talented Ceara.” She smiled at her. “They have to wait for you.” Ceara blew out a long breath and rested her head against the back of the chair. “They have to wait for me.” she repeated and smiled slowly. “Thanks for wrapping my hand.” She began to get up to head back to the room. “Shannon.” She paused and turned back to her for just a moment. Shannon looked at her quizzically for a moment. “Yeah?” she watched Ceara wage a war with herself. “I was in the middle of a piece...” she paused, looking uncertain. “I can't finish it now.” She waved her bandaged hand around. “I wouldn't know what to do...” Shannon began to apologize. “I can walk you through it. Besides, be honest, you wanted to learn anyway.” She watched Shannon's guilty smile spread and waited for her to join her in the hall. For a moment neither woman moved, they stood close together and neither spoke. Then the moment was gone. Whatever it was that was happening between them, Shannon wanted it to stop. Without a word they went into the work room and Ceara handed her the jack.
“It's too cool now, you will have to stick it in the glory hole to heat it up again.” Shannon pondered for a moment. “Why do you suppose it is called a glory hole?” She asked as she held it in the furnace like Ceara told her to. Ceara stood behind her, with her good hand steadying Shannon's own. She had come to Ireland to find things out about herself but this isn't one of the things she wanted to know. Ceara's closeness was making it hard for her to think, to breathe. She wasn't into women so why was she making small bubbles of hot butterflies swirl uncontrollably in her stomach. She pulled the glass from the hole and rolled it the way Ceara told her to. She rolled over the colored strips of crimson and hunter green that Ceara had broken up and lined up on the bench to be rolled in before she had burnt herself. She worked the glass into a larger bubble, Ceara blew into the pipe and watched the bubble grow as Shannon rolled it for her. “Now, slam the pipe against the table like this.” She demonstrated in the air. “Won't it break?” Shannon looked skeptical. “If you do it just like I say, it won't. I promise.” Ceara lined the pontil up for her and watched Shannon debate how to do it. “Just like I said.” She showed her the motion again. Shannon picked the pipe up as she was shown and slammed it against the table. The glass bubble broke off and landed on the punty with a soft thud. She smiled widely and put the pipe down on the stand as she had seen Ceara do. “Now, hurry, grab that jack and start shaping this.” She stood behind her, breasts to back and showed her how to work the glass. Shannon found it hard to concentrate with Ceara's breath blowing across her neck. She swallowed hard and tried to focus. “I get it.” She assured her. “You can sit.” Ceara moved away and took a seat across from her. She
sipped from a bottle of water she had left open on the table. “You're a natural.” She told Shannon and smiled at her. Shannon smiled back and looked down at what they had created together. Then feeling suddenly dizzy and slightly sick, she ran to the trash bin in the corner and threw up. Ceara watched her for a long moment and frowned when the doorbell sounded at the front of the house. “That would be Mr. O'Keefe.” Ceara walked to her and paused over her bottle of water. “You've been doing that a lot lately” she motioned to the trash can. “Stress.” Shannon assured her and tried to steady herself. “Are you alright now?” She shook her head when Shannon tried to give her back the water. “You can keep that.” she laughed softly. “Thanks.” Shannon looked towards the door as Nessa came in. “Hannon is here.” she announced and left as quickly as she had come in. Shannon walked to the door only to pause when Ceara called her name. She turned to face her. “If you don't fell better in a few days...promise me you will see the doctor?” Ceara looked so concerned that Shannon smiled despite herself and nodded. *~*~*~*~*~*~* ~* “The business of divorce is ugly.” Hannon O'Keefe was nothing like the other men Shannon had met during her time in Ireland. He was just over 5 feet tall and his hair was white under his ancient hat. It looked like a plaid fedora. He had dancing eyes and a quick smile but his insight into this ugly matter was also quite pointed. “I don't care.” Shannon assured him. “I just want out.” Hannon nodded his head at her and began to ask questions like
“Is there anything in particular in New York you can't live without?” His pen paused inches from the legal pad he had pulled from his ancient leather briefcase. “My cat, Snitches.” she taped her fingers against the top of the desk they sat at. “Anything else?” “My guitars.” she sighed. “That's about it. Everything else he can stuff.” She smirked. “You are not demanding at all.” he patted her hand. “I'll make some phones calls and get these papers out right away.” he stood up and shuffled the papers. “Thank you Mr. O'Keefe” he nodded at her with a slight smile. “Will you be staying in Ireland for a while then?” she thought for a moment about his question. “I am honestly not sure what I'll be doing. Soon I'll be free to just do it.” she smiled and waved at him as he made his way out the door to his car. “Everything go alright?” Ceara appeared in the doorway behind her moments after the gentleman had excused himself. “It will be.” she tried to smile but tears were too close. “I'm allergic to cats.” Ceara said teasingly and smiled at her. “You were eavesdropping!” Shannon laughed and wiped at her eyes. “It will get easier.” she tugged on her hand. “Nessa made lunch. You should eat.” Ceara walked with her down the hall. “Ceara...” Shannon stopped at the stairs and looked at her with sad eyes. “Whatever is happening here... with us. It can't right now.” now as the tears spilled over she apologized softly and headed upstairs. Ceara stood for a long moment looking up the stairs after her. She couldn't control what was between them anymore than Shannon could. For now she sighed and
decided to let it ride. *~*~*~*~*~*~* Osef had called for her several times. She refused every single one of his calls. She knew he was just concerned because he and everyone else in Doolin now knew she was getting a divorce. They also knew that she had fled from New York to Ireland on a whim to get away from her husband. The whole town seemed to be speculating over why she had fled, why she was here. Everywhere she had gone the last few days she had been met by this speculation and tired of dealing with it, had decided to lock herself away in her room and just not deal with any body at all. She was tired, miserable and hating Trent was consuming a good portion of her day. She suspected that hate wasn't a healthy emotion but at the moment she did not care. It had been a week since he would have gotten the papers and she had heard nothing from Mr. O'Keefe or Trent regarding the matter. She was happy she hadn't heard from Trent but she was sure by now she should have heard something from the lawyer. Nothing. She sat in the window seat, curled up with her forehead against the glass. Outside the wind whipped the tree's into a frenzy and rain threatened the sky. The weather suited her mood to the t she thought. She wondered if she was going to become one of those bitter old ladies she often saw walking down the packed streets in New York. Those women who were so abused by life that nothing or no one could crack their shell or make them smile. She didn't want that for herself, ever. Whens he had met Trent he had swept in like a whirlwind, sweeping her heartsick heart off its feet. He had been sweet, attentive and adoring. She had fallen for him almost instantly. Then the lies began to come. He lied about working, lied about drinking, lied about money and the worst one, he lied about women. There seemed to be a lot of them. Acid burned in
the back of her throat and she thought about her promise to Ceara. If she didn't feel better by tomorrow, she'd see the doctor. The sky opened up and unleashed its torrent upon the earth as Shannon drifted off to sleep. *~*~*~*~*~*~ * “She hasn't been out of her room in a week.” Dealla argued with her sister. “Maybe she needs time.” Nessa countered and tossed the salad she had just put together. “The heart is a mysterious thing.” Deven said as he set the table. “What do you know about it?” Keelan folded napkins into swans and pretended that he hated doing it. “I know plenty.” Deven purposely put his sisters salad forks in the wrong spot knowing it would drive Nessa nuts. “You have to be the only 19 year old virgin I've ever met” Dealla giggled and flipped the meat in the broiler. The color immediately climbed up Deven's cheeks as he scowled at his sister. “Sometimes it is just as important to a guy that he wait till marriage than it is a girl.” He answered and continued to set the table, now placing glasses behind all the plates. “Sure, if you're queer.” Keelan laughed. “What's wrong with being queer?” Nessa asked as she placed the salad on the table. “Nothing at all, Nessa.” Ceara answered as she came into the room. She sometimes wondered how different her life would be if she was honest with her family. She worried her father couldn't handle the disappointment so she kept it to herself. “Still no Shannon?” She looked towards the stairs when she was told no. “Can't be healthy sitting up there in that room crying all
day.” Keelan said as he placed the last napkin. Dealla turned off the flame under the meat and Nessa shook a bottle of vinegar and oil as her father stepped through the back door, soaked and smiling at his children. “Do I smell biscuits?” he asked as he kicked off his boots and hung his rain slicker near the door. He was grateful to his sons as he stepped into the kitchen and felt the warmth of the fire. He had been out all day laying the ground work for his wedding gift to Bram and Aggie. They seemed young but their love was so strong. He remembered being 17 and in love with his wild Rose. “Home made biscuits at that.” Keelan smiled. “I had some extra time today.” Nessa shrugged. “How is your hand?” He asked Ceara as he sat down at the head of the table. She flexed it and only grimaced slightly. “A little crispy still.” her father nodded and looked past her to the doorway were Shannon stood for the first time in a week. “Now there's a lass.” Bram senior said under his breath. Ceara looked towards the door immediately and was alarmed by the rings around her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks. “Rough week?” Deven asked as he welcomed her to the table. Steaks were being passed around and potatoes and biscuits came hot from the oven moments later. “Very.” She nodded at him and took a seat between Nessa and Keelan. They ate in silence for several long minutes. “Dealla, is this a new rub?” her father looked upon her proudly. “Yes, Dad.” She smiled, pleased that he had noticed and seemed to approve. “What is that secret flavor?” he asked, rolling the meat across his tongue. “Fresh rosemary.” Nessa smiled at her sister, happy their effort had paid off. “Quite a lucky man I am” his lilt seemed heavier when
soaked in pride. The conversation seemed to envelope the O'Neills in a way Shannon had never observed first hand before. One would talk over the other and the other would answer a question asked fifteen minutes before and forgotten till that moment. In the chaos of it all, she was content to sit back and watch, listen and absorb the unity that was this family. She thought back to her own childhood and wished it had been different. Her Father had worked two jobs and her mother had stayed at home with her. Her Mom had doted on her endlessly, always complimenting her art work, her writing, anything she did creatively. Shannon had her Mom to thank for her artistic ego and confidence. Her thoughts swirled away from her, carrying her far from this table and this family back to her own, so long ago. Dole was six years younger than her. He had deep chocolate eyes and deep brown hair that he wore spiked at all times. Or he had, until he had out grown it in high school, coming to favor a longer more emo look like all the other kids those days. He wore faded jeans in black, worn to the point of fraying, combat boots, an old military jacket and a faded and well loved clash t-shirt the last time she saw him. He had pierced his left eye brow to match his right, his labret, lip, nose, tongue and ears. His hair on this particular day was swept up into a multi length faux hawk that was dyed black and bright orange. He had sat in the studio, leaning over his worn fender, playing a song from his heart with his eyes closed. His fingers caressed each fret drawing out the notes in a loving manner. He didn't open his eyes but he knew she was there, he always knew. She leaned against the door jam, listening intently to the wonderfully sad sound of the achingly slow riff he played so easily. He drew out the final notes splintering what was left of her heart before setting the guitar down and opening his eyes.
“Not bad for a kid who couldn't pass music class.” she smiled and swept into the room to embrace him. “Music wasn't cool until I found an alternative to main stream rock and then I was too old to flaunt it.” he hugged her tight and smiled into her hair. “Old my ass.” she laughed. “It is looking a bit saggy.” he smiled at the look of horror upon her face. You should be playing professionally” she paced around the room now and ran her hand over a dusty piano. “I should be” he smiled wistfully. “However, the fates have not been so kind as of late.” He picked up his cheese cloth and began to wipe his fingerprints from his guitar. She wandered to the window and stared out over the city. “Whats going on?” Dole placed his guitar on it's stand and walked over to rest his hands on her shoulders. She leaned back, feeling his chest against her back and his chin on the top of her head. Why couldn't Trent be more like Dole? She wished she could voice that thought but Dole already hated Trent so much, she didn't want to make it worse. She sighed. “Out with it.” he ordered and turned her around to face him. He hated the look of disappointment and pain that had lived in her eyes since she had met and married Trent. He never understood why she had married him. She wrestled with herself for a moment then decided, much like a band aid, it was best to do it quickly and all at once. “I caught Trent with another woman.” Dole didn't even try to look surprised. He just frowned and rubbed his hands up and down her shoulders for a long moment looking apologetically at her. “It gets worse.” She felt his fingers stiffen marginally before he dropped his hands and walked over to the piano bench and dropped down. “Something tells me I want to sit down for this. If anything
that bastard did is worse than cheating then I guess I may need to hold onto this bench to keep from choking him. Shannon refused to meet his eyes , instead she turned back to the window and regretted what she would have to say next. “I didn't just catch him with anyone this time.” she turned back to him, began to pace. “Oh?” his heart raced in his chest, anger was already churning in his stomach. “Dole.” her voice was an apology in itself and he closed his eyes. “Just say it.” he knew already and would have chose to lose a limb rather than hear her words. “I caught him with Anna.” she stopped now, watching the color drain from his cheeks and his eyes go steely and cold. “My Anna?” he choked on the words and ran his hands absently through his hair. He prided himself on being this tough, I can take care of myself guy, he adored his Anna. They had been together for several years now and Shannon hated hurting him like this. “Are you sure?” he watched her closely as she nibbled on her lower lip and nodded her head in confirmation. When she stopped pacing and nodded slowly, everything in him went cold and disconnected. “I'm so sorry.” she walked towards him, hoping if she held him tight enough she could take some of his pain. It had been just as much a shock to her as it was to him now. Before she reached him however, he stood up from the bench with such force it tipped over and clattered to the studio floor. With three long strides he was out the door and already heading down the stairs to the outside of the building. Shannon stood helplessly, watching out the window as Dole climbed into his car and took off from the curb. She held her breath for a long moment, then shrugged. She had never liked Anna. She did however, love her brother and wished she hadn't had to hurt him. Hating
Trent more than ever, she walked to the studio windows and stood looking out over the city well after the sun had set in the sky for the night. She found him later at his gym where he lifted weights angrily and she heard snarls of sad rock pouring out of his headphones. He didn't turn around when she came in, though he saw her in the floor to ceiling mirrors that stood in front of him. His eyes remained vacant and cold as he grunted with effort as he lifted the massive weight again and again. As he dropped the weights back down into there holders, he pulled the headphones from his ears and let them rest around his neck. She heard the final notes of Chevelles suffocating fade into Seethers fine again and knew he was in the feel sorry for myself stage of his evening. Most people would have lost themselves in a bottle or two. Dole worked out till he couldn't see through his own curtain of sweat. They stood staring at each other for a long moment and Shannon realized two things, her brothers knuckles were swollen and the heart tattoo on his right shoulder that had held Anna's name just this afternoon was now a hissing, venom leaking king cobra. Within Temptations what have you done began to coil from the head set as Dole once again hefted the weights and began lifting slowly. “We have to talk about this” Shannon sat on the weight bench behind him and crossed her legs. He shook his head in answer. “No, we don't.” Dole bit off breathlessly and continued to lift until his breathing sounded ragged. “Dole. Please.” Shannon pleaded and saw him falter for a moment. She realized as his eyes flicked to hers in the mirror, then away again quickly, that he blamed her for this as well. The pain was of the searing sort that shot from her heart to her eyes and made her gasp out loud. Shannon stood up and nodded her head in what she hoped he would
see as an admittance of guilt. She got the message loud and clear, if she hadn't brought Trent into his life then Anna would still be his. She walked to the door and put her hand on the door knob. It swung open and hit her hard in the shoulder before she could get out of the way. Anna was a lot of things but when she was angry, she was scariest. She was usually quiet, calm and the best friend a girl could have. “You big macho son of a bitch.” she bit off as she streaked towards him. “Me?” Dole turned around and dropped the weights on the floor beside him and took two long strides away from her that Shannon assumed was necessary to keep from killing her. “What the hell did I do?” Dole's eyes flared as he began to pace. “You broke his jaw, you asshole! He has a show in 3 hours with your sister and he CAN'T play!” she picked up a plastic water bottle and threw it across the room at Dole, where it hit him soundly upside the head. “And I'm supposed to care that the guy you were fucking behind my back has to eat through a straw for a while?” Dole watched her crumple onto the bench that Shannon had abandoned and heard her sniffle. “You think I cheated on you Dole? Did Shannon tell you that?” she wiped at the tears on her cheeks angrily. When all Dole did was stare at her, she shook her head and sobbed loudly. “I went to their house looking for Shannon. She wasn't home and I know, I know, when she came in it looked bad because Trent was holding me while I cried. I was just so overwhelmed and he was nice to me.” she broke off as Dole looked from her, over her shoulder at Shannon who still stood half hidden behind the door. “Why would you go to my sisters house crying?” He stopped pacing and picked up a box of tissues from the
filing cabinet in the corner. “Well.” Anna began and blew out a heavy breath. “This isn't exactly how I wanted to do this.” she broke off and nodded thankfully at him for the tissues as he handed them over to her. “Come on Anna, you can tell me anything.” Dole sat beside her now on the weight bench and pulled her into his lap. She shoved at him for a moment, then gave in and tucked her head into his shoulder. Shannon realized the gravity of her mistake at this moment and everything inside her told her what an ass she was. “You started to propose to me that night at the restaurant, then you got scared and stopped.” He nodded at her, remembering and feeling shameful now that he had never finished what he had started that night. “I was so relieved because I thought we could hurry up and get married...” she broke off and blew her nose. “Why in the hell would you want to hurry Anna? You always told me what a big wedding you wanted. I'm saving as fast as I can...” she shook her head at him and sniffled again. “We...we need to get married sooner than later.” she met his eyes and held for a long moment. “The night with the wine, the candles...” he broke off and sighed heavily. “I'm such a fool.” she nodded at him and smiled. “So you're?” she nodded before he finished asking. “Oh Dole. She sobbed again. “What?” he held her tightly. “You really thought I could cheat on you?” she wiped at her eyes sadly. “You've been acting so weird lately.” he shook his head. “My Anna.” he kissed her. “You broke Trent's jaw?” Shannon stepped out from behind the door, holding her shoulder and obviously shaken. “Oh Shannon.” Anna sighed and blew her nose again.
“Anna....” Shannon felt her stomach turn with regret and wished she could get away. “I'm so sorry.” Anna said and blew out a heavy sob, trying to catch her breath. “I went to your house looking for you. I had just found out I was pregnant and I was scared. I couldn't find Dole anywhere. I guess I didn't look all that hard...I wasn't ready to tell him. I was scared...Trent was nice to me. He said you weren't home and I guess that was the last straw. I started to cry and he barely had a chance to hug me before you came flying through the house and started screamed about how could we do this to Dole? I would never hurt Dole. I would never hurt you.” she turned back to him now. He nodded his head and kissed her cheeks, gently, one at a time. “Let's go to Vegas tonight.” he said softly and watched her smile spread. “Really? Is that a king cobra?” she touched the cellophane gently and met his eyes. “Oh Dole.” she said again and once again sobbed softly. He shook his head and wiped his own eyes. “It's only a temp.” he laughed. Pealed the cellophane down and rubbed at it with her pointer. When it smudged, she threw her head back and laughed. “Anna, I could never be whole without you.” He whispered into her hair now as he pulled her close to him. *~*~*~*~*~* ~* The sound of breaking glass and loud swearing pulled Shannon back into the here and now. She thought about Anna and Dole and little baby Brennon and smiled now. So much had changed. Much more swearing. “Fuck, fuck. FUCK!” Ceara came tearing down the hall into the kitchen and started flinging open cabinets. “What is it?” Shannon moved forward and took her left hand gently.
“Oh my. You need a doctor.” She held tight and looked down at the puckered and burned skin. Ceara shook her head and kept opening cabinets with her other hand. “No time. I've 28 pieces yet to finish for this shipment.” she blew out a heavy breath and sagged against the counter top as Shannon gently applied the balm Ceara had finally pulled from one of the open cabinets. “It was 27 pieces but I dropped this last one.” she looked mournfully down the hall where the music still poured from the open door. “I need you to turn off my furnace.” Ceara said sadly and shook her head. “Can't you just cancel this shipment until you are better?” When Ceara shook her head Shannon watched her for a moment. “Why not?” Ceara sighed and realizing Shannon still had her hand, took it away and walked to the table where she dropped into a chair. “I've already spent the money.” She admitted sheepishly. “I saw the prices on those pieces! What in the world could you have spent that much money on!?” Ceara looked around herself for a long moment and blew out a long breath. “This place needed a new roof. I added on the room for the furnace. It used to be down the path some in an old wooden shack. I didn't have the room I needed in there.” She shook her head. “I made a lot of money. I know.” she smiled. “But I put most of it into a secret gift for my brother and his beloved.” she smiled again now, this time her eyes twinkled. “Gift?” Shannon watched Ceara nod her head excitedly. “I'd love to show it to you.” Ceara smiled and looked out over the back land of the farm. “Sure. Right after I take you to the hospital. You could need skin grafting or some other really gross procedure!”
Shannon said when Ceara arched a skeptical brow at her. “You could lose use of that hand and never work again.” Shannon smiled in triumph when she saw the sad shock of the truth sinking into Ceara's head. “Fine but only cause I have obligations I need to get to. Now if you don't mind, we need to turn off my furnace. Shannon followed her all the while smiling. She had actually won a round versus Ceara and she knew that was no small feat. “I should have taken you the first time you burnt yourself.” Shannon nagged as she cranked off the furnace. Ceara didn't answer her. *~*~*~*~*~*~ * They sat shoulder to shoulder in an emergency room for 1 hour 16 minutes and 28 seconds before someone called Ceara's name. She grabbed Shannon's hand with her good one and pulled her to her feet beside her. Fear was not something Shannon expected to see in this woman's eyes. She expected to see heat, anger, fire...so many hot stormy emotions that she couldn't even name. Never did she expect to see fear there in there place. So she nodded her head and fell into step beside her. The walked down a long white hall, which connected to yet another long white hall and were told to sit patiently in this small white room and someone would be right with them. “I hate hospitals.” Ceara murmured and stared down at the tip of her glass spotted shoe. “Me too.” Shannon patted her thigh and blew out a long sigh. “Bet you are glad you came to Ireland now, huh?” she laughed and studied a poster about abstinence with weary eyes. “Actually, I am.” Shannon smiled and picked at a pile of
old magazines. Before she settled on one of the dozen 3 year old magazines there was a knock on the door and the doctor stepped into the room. Shannon watched him examine Ceara's hand under a strong overhead light. “How in the world did you go about doing this to yourself?” he asked and turned her hand again to get a better look at her palm. “I want blowing a glass bowl, when I rolled it the damn thing broke lose on me. That never happens!” she added when he clucked his tongue at her in answer. “I knew one day the mighty Ceara would end up here eventually.” he smiled as she blushed. Shannon laughed at them both. “You know who I am then?” she nodded her head and swore lightly when he began to wash the damaged skin from her hand. “All of Clare County knows who you are. I may have to graft this.” “See!” Shannon said and smirked at her. “I don't have time for a graft. I have 28 pieces left to go.” “Your wounds know no time other than the time they need to heal” he told her and excused himself for a moment. “He's flirting with you.” Shannon said as soon as the coast was clear. Ceara barely raised an eyebrow. “I got that.” she said and looked at her hand more carefully under the light. “I can't miss this dead line.” her voice wavered slightly. Shannon pondered her avoidance of the doctors obvious intentions and focused on the dead line. “There must be something you can do.” Shannon stood and paced the small area they were seated in. “Alright, it is settled then.” The Dr. McDollen announced as he came back into the room. “What is?” Ceara and Shannon asked in unison. “Your room is being prepared now.” He told Ceara happily and opened the clipboard in his hand.
“My room? Wait, what?” Ceara sputtered. “You need to have skin from your thigh placed over the wound on your hand. The damage is great lass and we don't have a lot of time to work with such an injury. You will check in, spend the night with us. Tomorrow morning we will do the simple procedure and save that hand of yours.” He snapped the clipboard closed and headed back out of the room. “I can't believe this.” Ceara dropped her face into her good hand and sighed loudly. Shannon came to sit beside her and smiled half heartedly. “I'm sorry Ceara.” she said softly and patted her thigh lightly. She should have learned by now not to touch her. At all, ever. She felt the spark in her palm and felt like trash. This couldn't be happening. Dismissing it she shook off the feeling and smiled brightly. “Tis not your fault.” Ceara told her and shook her head. “I was careless. I knew better, when the bowl his the punty so early I should have stopped to check my seal. I should have had my gloves on and I should have never tried to grab the bowl out of the air. It was just so beautiful. I couldn't believe that I had created it. Sometimes...that's how I feel when I see my own work. My god..I did that?” she paused, licked her lips. “I understand that feeling. Sometimes I find myself sitting at the piano with my eyes closed, just touching the keys with my heart, or so it feels. Then all at once it feels like the notes find a way in, they float into my soul just as they had floated out of my heart. Then I am woken from my trance and I ache.” she met Ceara's eyes and smiled. “You miss it.” “Very much.” Shannon nodded slowly. “Do you think you will go back. To New York I mean, not to your husband.” Ceara flushed slightly over her bobble. Shannon shook her head no. “When I married Trent I was young and naive. I'm not that
girl anymore.” her eyes were sad. “You wish you were though.” Ceara said softly. “Sometimes. More than that I wish Trent would have grown into the man I saw inside the boy.” She shook her head, shaking off the old wants. “Tis hard to lose love.” Ceara said as the doctor tapped on the door again. Shannon nodded her head, happy that the conversation wouldn't be able to go on. “Your room is ready. Your friend can stay for another hour, no more. Your surgery is very early in the morning and we need to start the antibiotics at once.” McDonnell walked in front of them as he spoke, leading them down one sterile hall into another. Finally, after what seemed like a dozen corridors, they entered and elevator and the doctor pressed the number 3 and stood back. They rode in silence from the 1st to the 3rd floor. He took them past a nurses station, down another plain white hall and finally into room 311. Here he wished Ceara luck and discouraged, said good bye. Ceara looked around the room slowly and frowned. “This is not how I had plAnnad on spending my evening.” she scowled at the johnny pants and shirt they had left for her on the bed. “You need help changing?” Shannon said, eying the clothes just as she did. Ceara looked at her hand and frowned again. “I guess I do.” though she didn't look pleased at all about needing help. “Great. I'll get you a nurse.” Shannon turned on her heel and headed out the door. Ceara shook her head and touched the top gingerly. When Shannon returned alone moments later she looked baffled. “I swear I didn't see a single nurse out there.” she laughed nervously and closed the door at her back. “I guess I could help you.” Ceara sighed thankfully and turned her back to her. “If you wouldn't mind much, I would appreciate a bit of
help.” Shannon stepped up behind Ceara and eased her shirt up over her shoulders and tossed it on the end of the bed. The muscles that trembled in her stomach as she did so were quickly dismissed, until Ceara turned around, topless and waited for Shannon to help her pull the other top on. Shannon stood for a long moment, staring, before she realized she was doing so and that she had caused color to creep up Ceara's face. “I'm...” she stammered. Christ what's wrong with me? Shannon asked herself silently. “I'm sorry” she finished and help up the top for Ceara to stick her arms through. “What is there to be sorry about?” Ceara asked, her voice sounding a bit far off to her own ears. Shannon's fingers faltered on the johnny strings as she tried to tie them. “Shannon.” Ceara said her name softly as Shannon lowered her jeans to the floor to help her out of them. Her voice was a bit choked and now it was her stomach that jittered in response to her careful touch. Shannon looked up from where she had knelt in front of her and feelings she had never felt crept along her skin, up her spine. She nearly knocked over the beside table she stood up so fast. Shannon's hands trembled as she tightened the hospital pants around Ceara's hips and she couldn't look her in the eye. “Visiting hours must be over.” she prayed they were. Ceara watched her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “We could talk about this.” she offered softly as Shannon folded the discarded clothes and placed them in the top drawer of the bed side table. She shook her head and looked towards the door as if she wanted to bolt through it. “I don't see what there is to talk about.” she cleared her throat twice and as she tended to do, began pacing the room in front of the bed. Ceara arched an eyebrow and looked wistfully at the bed. “We can talk when you are ready. In the mean time I'm feeling a bit tired and I'd like to get into bed.” Shannon felt
foolish as she stepped forward and pulled down the simple white blanket and underlying top sheet for her. Once she had Ceara all tucked in, she took special care to tuck away the feelings that had a tendency to kick up around her. “You alright?” She asked her quietly and took a seat next to the bed. “Thought you said visiting hours were over?” Ceara asked her quizzically and enjoyed the mix of emotions that played so openly over Shannon's features. She wondered if she knew just how easy she was to read when she wore her emotions so close to the surface. Ceara closed her eyes for a long moment remembering what it had been like for her when she had been with men. Before she was honest with herself, if only she could be honest with everyone. She wondered if Shannon knew how she looked at her, wondered what it would mean when she figured out for herself, what it meant. Shannon seemed to be lost in thoughts of her own, whatever they were they involved Ceara's bottom lip and had her blood stirring in reaction, a reaction that was both unwanted and becoming increasingly hard to bluff her way through. When the nurse stepped in moments later both women snapped from their trances and their eyes locked for one long moment. Shannon's heart pounded in her ears, loudly. Ceara had trouble swallowing the plain white pill the nurse handed her, the water was as dry as chalk as the smoke curled around her head from the look Shannon was burning her with. “Visiting hours are over now.” Came the announcement over the loud speaker. Standing slowly, Shannon sighed heavily and walked to wear Ceara laid in the bed. The nurse smiled, told her five more minutes only and left as quietly as she had come in. “You must be scared.” Shannon said softly. Watching as Ceara seemed to have trouble staying awake. “Not really, no. Not until the morning, then I'll be plenty scared.” She smiled weakly and tried to stifle a yawn.
“Must have been a strong sleeping pill.” Shannon tossed a look towards the door and wondered how she was supposed to get home. When had she started thinking of the inn as home? She didn't have time to think about it. Ceara must have seen the panic in her eyes. “Ask the nurse to ring my Da, he can tell you have to get home” her eyes drifted closed as she spoke. Shannon nodded her head at her but knew it was a lost cause, Ceara was out for the night. *~*~*~*~*~* ~* Finding her way back to the inn wasn't as hard as she had thought it would be. Maneuvering the small truck on the wrong side of the road in the dark was a whole other story. She had found her way back in just after 10pm and found that either Nessa or Deanna had laid a fire for her in her room and left a plate of cookies to snack on. She was so thankful for the cookies she thought she could kiss those girls! They always seemed to know exactly what it was she would need. She rolled the tension from her shoulders and decided to get ready for bed. She slid out of her clothes, into the waiting flannel night gown and laid down on the bed. She had the lights off, the fire burning and the blankets wrapped around her. She watched the rain slant angrily against the window and slid silently off to sleep. There was candle light and music. The glow of the soft light illuminated her eyes as Shannon looked at her and smiled. Was that Mozart in the background? Something bouncy and classical, it made her spirits soar. She felt hot, her skin tingled and then she felt the fingers glide lightly up her thigh, causing her breath to catch, her lungs to burn. Her stomach felt like it was full of jelly, it trembled and tingled with every touch. Her lips parted, achingly, waiting
to be touched. She felt wet, excited and needy. Who was this dream lover? She sat up with a startled gasp in the dark and looked at the now dimly lit fireplace. She searched her mind for the edges of the dream. Who was the mystery person? Was it Osef? It didn't seem likely, he reminded her so much of Dole that it would be weird if it was. Shrugged it off, she let the merciful waves of sleep carry her back under. *~*~*~*~* She slept on and off through the night. Dreams of passionate lovers came in heavy, heady streams that caused her to wake in a sweaty state more than once in the night. Finally just before dawn she threw back the covers and climbed out of the bed. Barefoot in her night gown she walked to the fireplace and tossed a new log in and watched it catch from the glowing embers. Climbing into the window seat, she pulled her knee's to her chest and hugged them as she gazed out over the darkened hills. She knew just mere hours from now that the sun would climb lazily over the rolling green hills to the east washing the land with its light. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She would have given anything to stay in this moment forever. She couldn't remember the last time she had woken peacefully. She watched the sky began its wash of color and realized she had sat staring out over those hills a lot longer than she had meant to. It was so easy to let herself drift here, far from worry and regret. She felt guilty for not feeling guilty about Trent. She sighed again, accepting finally that they had never meant to be. They had clicked musically but emotionally he had always left her high and dry. She could never lay in his arms and cry. She could never have fallen into his eyes. Weren't those the things love counted on? There were so many things she could see now that she had missed in the past. She had kept herself so
busy pretending not to see the flaws between them that after a while she actually stopped seeing them. Maybe she had been too critical. Maybe if she had just let him be him, they would have been happier. This is where she stopped her chain of thought. This wasn't her fault, she had given him the best of her heart and he had cheated on her countless times. Not countless, she told herself. 8 times. The bastard had cheated 8 times and she had forgiven, looked past it and he had promised every time that it was the last time. Always the last time. There was a ring of truth to that now though, she smiled sadly to herself, it finally was the last time. She watched the colors grow and slide through the sky, mingling with the blue that began to stretch as far as the eye could see. Maybe one day she would find a way to settle down here in Ireland. She had never enjoyed a sunset so much or found a house that felt so close to being her home. That pinched some. She had dreamed of having a home when her and Dole had been kids. Their house had been sterile. Lacking in affection and warmth. The only love in that house had been between her and Dole. He had nurtured her loving spirit ever since that had brought here home from the hospital. She missed him so much. Glancing at her watch she smiled to herself. It would be after 11am in New york. She got up and grabbed her cell phone, then wandered back to the window. She punched in his number and leaned back against the window frame. He sounded annoyed when he answered and she knew immediately that she had caught him in his studio. “Hey there” she said and smiled, the annoyance in his voice turned to pleasure when he answered her. “Ah, there you are.” he said as if she was a set of lost keys. “Where are you?” he asked trying not to sound like an over protective brother and failed. “In a very small town in Ireland.” “Why in the hell are you in Ireland?” For once Dole didn't sound angry but truly exasperated.
“I needed to get away.” “A trip to the shore would have been getting away Shan, you jumped a plan and flew, god what? 4000 miles away? That seems a bit much to me.” “I needed this.” her heart trembled, she just wanted him to understand. He sighed loudly and she could almost see him sitting back down on his piano bench. “I hope you are smart enough to rid your life of him this time.” She didn't have to ask who he meant. “I filed for divorce.” “Good. Finally” she could feel his smile spreading, she could almost see it. “What did he do that finally hung him?” “Same old trick, different day.” She said sadly. “Well, he is a dog. It will work out.” He reassured her. “Dole?” “Yeah?” “Have you ever been attracted to someone....... different?” “Different how? Like a clown?” “No, not like a clown.” “I don't like their make up.” She chuckled at him. “I said not a clown.” “Their noses always creeped me out.” “Dole?” “Yeah?” “Never mind. Damn it, now I see Anna in my head in clown make up.” “Is she hot?” “Ew! Dole!” She threw her head back and laughed. “I bet Anna would be a hot clown.” Shannon barked with laugher, happy she had called him. “How's Brennon?” she asked, wishing she could see him. “He's great. He doesn't like clowns either though.” “Oh my God, Dole!”
“What?” “Enough with the clowns! That isn't even what I meant.” “Then why did you bring them up?” “I didn't, you did.” “Nope Shan, I'm pretty sure you said that Anna would be a pretty hot clown and I said that Brennon wouldn't like that. That's what started all this.” She shook her head and laughed. “You'll never change.” “Some things do change.” he said softly, his voice teasing. “Oh, like what?” “Like someone older brother finally writing a song that people want to hear.” “Oh yeah, what kind of people?” “The record producer kind.” he smiled into the phone. “You got a deal?!” she stood up now and paced the room excitedly. “A killer one at that.” In New York he paced to the window and looked out over the city. 4000 miles away in Ireland, she stood facing out a window, standing exactly the same way he did, staring out over the hills. His eyes caressed the buildings around him as hers skimmed over trees and an ocean of green grass as far as the eye could see. “I'm so proud of you.” she said softly, smiled. “It was a long time coming.” “You deserve it.” she said affectionately and made him smile. “I'm glad you called Shannon.” “Me too.” “I have to get back to work. Brennon is teething and Anna is pregnant again so things here are crazy. Plus I'm recording a real cd now now.” “Wow, another baby?” “Yeah. What can I say? She can't keep her hands off me.” Shannon laughed in answer. “I miss you Dole.”
“Cause I'm awesome. Come home soon Shan” “I'll try. This place is so wonderful.” “Too bad. New York is suffering without you.” “I love you.” “You too Brat. Stay safe.” With that she closed her phone and sat back down. For several long moments her heart ached in her chest. She missed Dole and Anna so much. She checked the time and went to shower. She had to get the hospital before much longer. Armed with a map and a list, fresh from the shower and ready to go Shannon walked outside and started up the truck. She wished for a long moment that she hadn't given up smoking and checked her mirrors. She needed some art supplies and checked her list twice to make sure everything was on it. Checking the time again, she noted that Ceara would still be in surgery. So she drove the truck into town and picked up the items she needed before heading off to release her and bring her home. She was certain the girl behind the counter had been flirting with her and had actually caressed her hand as she took her money. She laughed softly to herself and shook her head. She had never been hit on so broadly by a woman before. Dismissing the thought she climbed back in the truck and pondered the map for a long moment. It was time to spring Ceara from her prison. *~*~*~*~* Ceara's hand was hugely bandaged and the anesthesia had left her less than pleasant and groggy. She had refused to take her sleeping pill, refused to eat her lunch or to do anything to cooperate with the nurses for the last three days. All she talked about was going home and getting back to work, which would be impossible since she wasn't
allowed to use her hand for another three weeks. Anger was a color Ceara wore often and well and one, Shannon was sure, had helped her when she was playing artist diva in New York. It wasn't working so well for her here in Clare County, Ireland however. “I can drive damn it” she told Shannon and tried to take the keys from her. She seemed unusually agitated and Shannon wondered what she had done to irritate her. “The doctor said you were still medicated and that you should still take it easy for several days.” Shannon reminded her, wondering just how long she could hang on to her temper. “I need to work.” Ceara said mournfully and giving in to being the passenger, let Shannon help her into the truck. “You know you can't.” Shannon reminded her and climbed into the drivers side. “Maybe I can...” Ceara gave her a side long glance and the first real try of a smile in days. “How?” Shannon turned over the engine and backed out of the parking spot. Catching the look on Ceara's face she shook her head quickly. “Oh no. Not doing it.” Shannon told her quickly and pulled out onto the road. “Why not? Can you give me one good reason?” Ceara challenged. “Sure. How about I don't know how? Or I'm not Ceara? Or how about I don't want to.” “You said yourself you've always wanted to learn how to blow glass. I've already told you the basics and you've seen me go through the steps many times.” Ceara's eyes pleaded with her. Shannon shook her head and tried to concentrate on the road. “Oh come on Shannon. Don't be such a bloody difficult yank. Help me out.” Anger flashed in Ceara's eyes, hot and fast. Shannon thought quietly of a dozen more reasons why she shouldn't do it.
“What if they find out you didn't do them?” She glanced sideways at her for a moment, pondered. “Who is going to tell them? Besides I will be right there telling you everything I want you to do. So in spirit, it is my work.” She smiled smugly. “What if I am horrible at it?” Shannon turned off the main road onto one of the many country roads they would use to guide them the rest of the way home. She swore as the gray sky slid further into darkness and the first fat rain drop splashed against the wind shield. “I've seen your glass work Shannon.” Ceara smiled for real now. “You're a natural.” “You really think so?” she asked cautiously. “Yes. That one leaden glass with the Celtic tree of life is breath taking. I bet you could have your own show.” “Still they are two completely different mediums.” Shannon wondered out loud. “How do you even know I would be good at it? My own show...really?” She shot Ceara an unsure glance and pulled off the side of the road when the rain got to much to see through. They sat in silence for a moment, each pondering there own thoughts. “Both are glass. You understand how color works. The only real difference is understanding the movements of the pipe and that is easy enough to walk you through. I know in my stomach, right down here in the pit, that you will be good at this. I don't doubt for a minute you could have your own show.” Ceara smiled, glanced out the window over the green of the farms around them. As far as the eyes could see was fields of green dotted by cows,horses and a sheep here and there. “I'll think about it.” Shannon said as Ceara began to smile. “None of that, I didn't say yes.” “Look.” Ceara pointed out over the field. “A rainbow.” she giggled like a young girl. “I wish I was on your meds.” Shannon laughed and pulled
back out onto the road. “You should.” Ceara smiled. “There nice.” Shannon remained lost in thought for most of the ride home. Ceara napped silently, her head pressed up against the window and a thin stream of drool trickled over her chin. Shannon shook her head as she pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. Bram Senior stepped from the front of the house and immediately went to the passengers side of the truck. “Always did sleep like a baby on long trips.” he smiled as he scooped her up. “Big, drugged baby.” Shannon laughed and went ahead of him to open the door. “Help me take her stuff off, will ya lass?” Her father asked her as softly as his big voice could go. He carried her easily up the stairs and down the hall to her room. Together they removed her hat and jacket, then each worked on taking one of her shoes off. Once she was tucked in and they walked back out into the hall Bram stopped and thanked her. “Not everyone comes to Ireland and plays nurse maid while vacationing.” he smiled warmly at her as they started down the hall. “I don't know if it is much of a vacation anymore.” Shannon spoke her thoughts out loud for the first time. “I am thinking of relocating here permanently.” she told him, shocked by the revelation herself. He nodded his head, understanding how the hills drug people into them and never let them out again. “You may want to discuss that with the young man waiting for you in the drawing room.” He pointed down the hall. “Young man?” She wondered if Osef was waiting for her, searched her mind for any reason why he would. Bram Senior shook his head and looked a bit weary. He knew some of the reasons why the girl had come here and wasn't
entirely sure he felt right about her guest. “He says he is your husband.” he looked apologetically down at her as her complexion went slightly gray. She looked down the hall past Bram and wondered why he would come here. She swallowed hard and tried to figure out what to do. Shaking her head finally she gave in to the inevitable and made her way down the hall to the front room. He stood with his back to her, his normal leather jacket had been replaced by a corduroy blazer. His hair, the hair that had stood in a Mohawk since the day she had met him, was cut in a short, flattering style that suited his face. She saw at once, that besides his hair and clothes being different, he didn't have a single piercing when he turned around. Every single one of his tattoo's was covered. Every single thing she had known to be true about him, was in this instant, changed. His pants had careful pleats, his shoes were shined, though it was raining outside. His shirt was that of a business man, not a punk rocker from the dirtiest part of New York. His nails were clean and his mouth was smiling, though his eyes were not. “Why Ireland?” he asked, doing his best to sound friendly and loving. “Why not?” she threw back and headed for the liquor cabinet against the far wall next to the blazing fire place. She poured herself three generous fingers of whiskey into a tumbler and raised the glass to her lips. It burned all the way down but did nothing to silence the storm inside her. She turned on him with veiled eyes, refusing to show him anything she felt. “Why my Visa card?” he tried a different tact and sat down on the sofa, crossing his legs. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. This wasn't the Trent she had left. This was the Trent she would have never paid any mind to to begin with! “Why my brothers fiance?” she watched his eyes flicker
and licked his lips. “I've talked to Dole and I know you know that isn't true.” he stood now, walking to her and taking her glass from her hand, he sipped and tried to hand it back to her. “Keep it.” She snarled and went to help herself to another. “Why are you here?” He demanded quietly. “Why are you?” she spun on him. “You didn't give a damn about me when you had me. I wasted all this time on you, thinking maybe, just maybe I would finally have a chance at being worth a damn to you. But that wasn't true. Not with Mindy, Cindy and every other whore you could find. Why Trent, why are you here?” she spat at him and took a seat on the far side of the room. “My wife is here.” she scoffed at him. “Try again.” she smirked. “I'm not signing those papers Shannon.” he said quietly and sat down across from her, lifted his glass to his lips, swallowed. “I don't love you anymore Trent.” the words held a quiet truth he could not deny. “I'm still not signing them.” his reasons were purely selfish and he knew it. “Why?” she shook her head, saddened by the fact that she knew before he answered. “Because I own you and I always will. You were nothing when I found you, I made you something. You will not walk away from me, you will not walk away from our life.” his eyes flashed, though he kept his voice even and his eyes on hers. “I don't want what you've 'made' me.” she set her glass down on the coffee table and stood up, pacing to the fireplace and back. “So the clothes, the new look...all part of your plan to convince everyone that I am a selfish, horrible bitch that you got saddled with.” when he didn't answer, she nodded her head slowly and put her hands on her hips.
“I'm not married to you anymore, not in my heart.” she tapped her chest and watched his eyes grow cold and steely. He was on his feet and across the room in seconds. He had her wrists in his hands and he squeezed them so hard she yelped as she dropped to her knees. “You will learn to love me then.” he said quietly. “If I have to beat it into you.” as he finished the last of his words, Shannon yelped again at the sound of shattering glass. As Trent toppled over, face down in the rug Ceara wavered slightly and looked like she was going to fall. Shannon was on her feet, gathering her close and helping her to the couch. “Call the police.” Ceara said softly and looked at Shannon's wrists, they were already starting to bruise. Shannon nodded her head and went to the phone. She dialed the emergency number and reported what had happened. She hung up and went back in the living room to find Bram senior sitting beside his daughter with a shot gun in his lap. When Trent began to stir, Bram raised the gun and stuck it against the back of his head. “See here.” he said gently. “You ever lay a hand on another of my girls and they will find bits and pieces of you scattered through out my land.” he cocked the gun loudly and thunked Trent in the back of the head with it again. It was only moments later when the police came in and cuffed Trent, pulling him to his feet and exposing a wet spot from where he had apparently peed himself in fear. “This isn't over” he told Shannon. She leaned in real close and whispered “Oh but you see, it is. If you come near me again I'll kill you.” as the officers led him from the room he sputtered and shouted about her threat. The officer that accidentally whacked his head while putting him in the car, shook his head and frowned. “I heard no threat at all sir.” he assured him and closed the
door on his ignorant rant. “We will inform the lawyer of these happenings.” the younger officer of the two assured her. “On the grounds of his threats and of course, his violating your privacy by flying thousands of miles to make them, the judge will be certain to grant you your divorce.” Officer Riley smiled at her and climbed into the front of the small squad car. “What will happen now?” She asked officer Mick as he told her he wanted to be called. “He will be put in a drunk tank, sobered up and sent back to the bowels of hell. Or New York. Which ever has the first available flight.” he smiled and nodded at Bram. “Will I see you at poker tomorrow night?” Bram asked warmly. “Aye and you better bring bigger pockets this time. Last time you could barely fit all your winnings in them!” he called as he started the car. With a wave they were gone and Shannon was left alone with Bram senior. “I am so sorry” she began but he waved her off. “What I'd like to know lass, is how a wonderful girl like you ends up with a wee pecker head like that?” he asked and put and arm around her, leading her back inside. She shook her head in answer. “I thought I was a stray dog and he was willing to care for me.” was all she had to offer. “You are far finer than any stray.” he smiled at her and bid her good night. She turned back into the drawing room, as they called it and found Ceara still sitting on the couch, struggling to stay awake. “You alright?” she asked, her voice rough with the edges of sleep. “I will be.” she nodded. “Perhaps I should try to find some place else to stay.” her stomach clenched with the thought of leaving but she couldn't have her problems land on their door step again.
“None of that now. Just because that lad has a bug up his ass about losing a great woman like you, doesn't mean you need to pack up and move on.” Ceara slid lower into the couch, resting her head against the back cushion. Shannon paced to the fire place, turning around she came to a stop when she realized whatever she had been about to say would have to wait. She walked to the couch and picked up the old wool throw blanket that hung over the back and gently tucked her in with it. Walking back to the fire place she bent and pulled the screen open carefully putting in another log and closed the screen once again. She stood up, stretching her back and watched Ceara sleep for a long moment. On a sigh she decided she needed some air. Once outside the night air greeted her harshly. She had thought she knew what cold was back in New York. Now she wondered how all these wonderful people kept from freezing to death. She shivered and pulled her coat tighter around her. For the first time in her life she figured out that it really could be too cold to snow. She tucked the flashlight she had grabbed into her pocket and headed off back over the field. She walked slowly along the old slate wall that marked the property. She wondered who had laid the first stone, marking out this property with pride as he moved. She could very easily see Bram senior and his boys working side by side in the hot summer sun. Had Bram's Rose stood by and watched them? Had she been thick with her next child? She had never believed in Prince Charming, true romance, the loss of ones heart and senses. She had loved Trent...at one time. It had faded and she had questioned her heart and mind until she realized that it had been his own doing. He had caused her to withdraw by treating her so unkindly. His lying, cheating, drinking, gambling...and so many other flaws had become too much and she had wanted to flee. Yet she couldn't. Pride had kept her in place for so much longer, so much more misery. She
questioned her own values now. After the scene he had caused tonight she was unsure what she had ever seen in him. Maybe she, for one brief and awesomely flawed moment, had believed in Prince Charming. He had reminded her constantly what he had saved her from. He had been her savior in his own words and she had begun to resent it. Her parents had been strong in their values, stronger in their belief of right and wrong. They had instilled in her so many important things and a few not so good things. When she had first moved to New York she would flinch every time a black or hispanic person walked past her. Afraid they would rob her, slice her throat...kill her for looking at them. That was due to her parents. She had purposely made new friends, all of which were multi cultural and she had learned to love every single one of them. She dispelled her parents insecurities one at a time until she was free of their constraints. Her first true friend in the city had been Ebony Young. Ebony had been black as night and as beautiful as midnight. She had also been the strongest woman Shannon had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She looked around herself now at the moonlight soaked fields and wondered how in the hell she had gotten from the cold streets of New York to the greenest fields she had ever seen. Ireland...she had never wondered, never wanted to travel here. Yet standing here now in this field she saw that she should have wondered, should have wanted. What was it she wanted? She was free of Trent, that was certain after tonights events. She knew she still had to deal with Osef and his affections but that wasn't who are what she wanted either. She stopped walking and sat down on top of the old wall she had been following and stared up into the moon for a long moment. “Where the hell is my life going now?” she said out loud to herself. “And what the hell is wrong with me?” she shook her head and sat staring out over the fields for a long time. Her ass
was frozen, she couldn't feel her toes but she was so lost in thought she wasn't aware she was uncomfortable. She said good bye to her old life and slowly twisted off her wedding band and engagement ring. She shoved them into her front pants pocket and started back towards the house. She paused when she looked over her shoulder and moon light struck glass in a clearing just off the side of the field. Curiosity made her wonder but the day had been long, the night longer and she just wanted to find her bed and the sweet bliss of sleep. She walked back slowly, taking in every detail of the fields at night. Wondering about the family that worked these fields. She knew now that it was cold they did most of their work in the barns and only ran the animals outside for a short time before putting them back into the heated barn. What did they spent the rest of the day doing? She often saw Bram junior slip off with Aggie in the late early morning. The memory of how they looked at each other made her smile. She had never experienced love like theirs and was so happy for them. They were very lucky. She turned the final corner back to the house and found Nessa sitting on the old porch swing rocking quietly in the dark. “Little late for a walk.” She said softly and smiled. “I know but I couldn't sleep.” Shannon walked up the porch steps slowly and dropped down onto the swing next to her. “Ceara woke up in a little bit of pain. I tended her hand and helped her back to bed. She asked about you.” Nessa held the shawl she wore tightly around her shoulders. Shannon smiled. “She says you are going to help her with pieces, I wish you luck.” Nessa smiled and stood up, heading back inside. “Luck?” Shannon stood and followed her. “Aye, my sister is a tough one to work with. I tried to learn the art of glass blowing once. I am sure she scarred me for life.” Nessa laughed while she closed and locked the door. “That bad?” Shannon asked and was granted the gift of
Nessa's laughter. She didn't answer, simply said good night and disappeared back to her own room. Shannon hung up her coat and kicked off her boots before wearily climbing the stairs. She smiled to herself when she opened her bedroom door and found the fire blazing once again, more cookies and another flannel night gown. This place was everything her soul had ever needed to heal. Without another thought she snacked on a cookie, pulled on the night gown and fell blissfully into bed. Happy beyond words this day was over. She slept through breakfast and doubted the O'Neills had missed her. She opened her eyes slowly and glanced at the clock with a sigh. She really had to get a job if she was going to stay here. She had a couple thousand she had managed to save up but beyond that she was broke. She owned nothing, needed everything and had no idea where she was going anymore. Was she going to settle here? Travel more? How? You have no money she told herself silently and laid very still, suddenly not wanting to ever get out of bed. She half wanted to swear and hide her head under the blankets when the knock sounded on the door. She wanted to chant go away and never face another person but the knocking grew more persistent and she gave up finally on a long sigh. The door opened slowly before she had a chance to answer and Ceara come in quietly, closing it behind her. “You always sneak into your guests rooms?” Shannon asked with her head still hidden under the blanket. “Only those who have to help me make 28 pieces of art.” she opened Shannon's closet and looked through her clothing. “None of this will work.” she said and spun back to Shannon with a quizzical look on her face. “You flew to Ireland with three pairs of pants and four
shirts?” Shannon rolled her eyes and stretched. “Four pairs of pants, five shirts and enough underwear for a small army.” she tried to smile. “Look I wasn't planning on moving to a new country. I thought I was leaving for a few days to cool off. Then I got here and realized I never wanted to go back. How do people leave here?” she demanded and tossed back the blankets. “I've no idea.” Ceara answered and sighed. “Guess you can use my work clothes since I will just be watching.” her eyes told Shannon exactly what she thought of that idea. “How have you no idea, you went to New York.” Shannon countered and opened the closet herself to study her clothing. “I've always come back. When I am there I dream of being here walking through the fields or having a pint in the pub.” Ceara averted her eyes as Shannon pulled the nightgown over her head and tossed it on the bed. She wore nothing beneath it. “Have you never seen breasts before?” Shannon laughed and pulled a bra from the dresser. “Oh I've seen breasts.” Ceara brought her eyes back to Shannon's. Something about the way she said it made Shannon swallow. Ceara watched her pick out her underwear and wished she had kept her eyes on the window. She knew for certain she must be sweating visibly. “You alright?” Shannon stood there, underwear in hand, bra not yet closed and Ceara felt the air drain from her lungs. She nodded her head but was unconvincing. Shannon followed her gaze blushed slightly. “I saw the magazines Ceara.” she told her softly, drawing her eyes back to her face. “Magazines?” Ceara cleared her throat and tried to keep her eyes on Shannon's face. “Oh Yes” Shannon laughed. “You and that model in New York were quiet friendly. Ceara's eyes clouded.
“We weren't friendly. We were...hot.” Ceara smiled slyly. “She was the only one who knew my secret, that is until that magazine caught us together.” she sighed, staring hard out the window. “My Da saw that magazine and he was very unhappy about it. Not that there is no one else like me here. There are plenty. In America they are everywhere.” she stopped, her eyes never leaving her fields. “Who is everywhere?” Shannon was confused, she pulled her jeans on now and zipped them much to Ceara's relief. She swallowed hard and avoided Ceara's eyes. She was on the brink of admitting something she had never told anyone and she couldn't seem to form the words. “Ceara?” Shannon said softly and pulled on a lead pocked shirt she had been using to stain her glass in. Ceara's eyes came up slowly, she swallowed hard again. “Lesbians, they were everywhere.” Her voice was rough, scared by the fear she felt. Shannon sank down on the edge of the bed and looked deeply into her eyes. “Are you?” she said softly, everything inside her going still. Ceara didn't meet her eyes. Instead she stood and walked back towards the door. “We should get to work.” she didn't turn around, couldn't face her. “I won't judge you, I would never.” Shannon stood and walked towards her. Ceara turned now, facing her with troubled eyes and an unsteady stomach. She didn't say anything, just stood watching her. “You won't?” she asked softly, wishing there was a greater distance between them and suddenly feeling like three thousand miles wouldn't be enough room for her to find her breath. “No, never” Shannon smiled at her, took her hand and lead her back to the chair. “You can talk to me.” she assured her and smiled again. She knew she could trust her, wanted to but everything
inside her fought the need to shed her greatest secret. “In a few minutes I will be working with glass as hot as molten lava. I've seen what it can do to the skin.” Shannon laughed and eyed her bandaged hand. “You can trust me” she said again. Ceara let out a staggered breath and closed her eyes for a long moment. “Since I was a girl” She began “I have felt very different. I never liked boys, ever. I'd see little Jack Fitzsimon looking at Janey Paul and I'd be so jealous but it was alright for him to look at her. Janey would always notice Jack but never did she notice me.” Ceara blew out a heavy breath, bringing her eyes to Shannon's now, holding her gaze as she began again. “I wanted Janey most of my young life. When I found womanhood I found questions. My Mum, she would listen.” she smiled sadly. “She understood me. She loved me. My Da saw the pictures of that model, Janey Paul” she smiled widely now. “and he hit the ceiling.” her eyes went cold, sad. “You and Janey?” Shannon smiled. “Good for you!” “Bad for me.” Ceara said so sadly it made Shannon's own heart ache. “As I was just a stop on her path through life. She didn't want me, she didn't love me.” she looked back out the window. “I loved her my whole life and she couldn't even love me for five minutes. I had never felt such a fool.” She ached just remembering it. “Is that why you are shipping the pieces to the museum? Are you avoiding going back?” Shannon felt her pain, understood it and hated it for her. When Ceara refused to meet her eyes her heart broke for her a little more. “Ceara, avoiding New York and all the Janey's of the world won't save you. Eventually you will fall in love again, life is like that.” she took her hand and smiled at her, squeezing
gently as she stood. “My Da made me promise I would never again bring such shame upon our family.” she shook her head, avoiding her gaze again. “It is not a shame to be who you are Ceara. Speak the words for me” she squeezed the hand that she still held, gently again. “Oh, well I've never said...” Ceara broke off, finally meeting Shannon's eyes as the idea sprouted wings inside her chest. “Shannon.” She whispered, holding tightly to her hand as if it were a life line. Shannon nodded and squeezed back as if to say come now, you can do it. “I'm thinking I'm a lesbian.” Ceara blew out a long breath, one she hadn't realized she had been holding her whole life. Shannon clapped her hands and smiled. “I'm so proud of you.” she announced and pulled her to her feet. “How did you know?” Ceara asked her again, forgetting what she had told her. “Mostly the magazine cover with you kissing Janey but other than that you had a doctor flirting with you at the hospital and you paid him no mind. Plus you stared at my bush for like...well...a long time” she laughed. Ceara blushed and shook her head. “I'm sorry Shannon. It's just that I never saw another woman's before. Not outside a computer or dirty magazine.” Shannon looked at her shocked. “You have got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed and saw the horror in Ceara's eyes. “Oh.” was all she said when she realized she was serious. “Never?” “No, never.” Ceara shook her head. “Then how do you know?” Shannon sat down on the edge of the bed again. “I just know.”
“But how?” Shannon asked, waiting her intently. “Seeing a woman naked...does things to me.” she said sheepishly. “And a guys body doesn't do the same for you?” she wondered what that would be like. “Not at all. Quite the opposite actually. I can handle nipples on a woman but on a man they freak me out.” Shannon laughed at her, stopping when she realized she was serious. “Really? Nipples?” she shook her head, trying to stall the laughter in her throat. “Have you ever seen a man's?” Shannon gestured at her pubic area. Ceara sighed heavily and nodded. “Unfortunately when I was still denying myself who I was, I made that mistake. It was a disaster.” she shook off the memory like a bad dream. “I'm so sorry.” Shannon said and smiled at her. “But I really am proud of you.” she got up and walked to her, pulling her to her feet. “Thank you.” Ceara said softly and meant it. She never knew how much she needed to hear that. “We should work...” she said and walked to the door, looking at Shannon over her shoulder. “I'll meet you in the work room.” She said and let herself out of the room. Shannon sat down on the edge of the bed for a long moment and stared at the closed door. She couldn't imagine living in the dark. When she got down to the furnace room Ceara already had the furnace lit, though how she did it with one hand in a bandage she was unsure. The music was on, but lower than usual and Ceara was no where to be seen. Shannon walked to the back door and looked out over the field, wondering where she made off to. Then she spotted her coming around the side of the house wearing a heavy jacket and talking to herself. When she held up a second jacket and motioned to her, she opened the door and stepped outside.
“The furnace has been off over night, it will take some time to heat up.” she tossed Shannon the second jacket and waited for her to pull it on. “Feel like walking?” she asked her at last and waited till she finished zipping the coat. “Sure, where to?” Ceara looked around to make sure no one was around and checked the time on her watch. “Come.” was all she said and with her long legs, she easily stepped over the low slate wall that Shannon had walked along the night before. Shannon stepped over it behind her and hurried to catch up to her as she took long strides across the field. When they reached the trees Ceara looked over her shoulder to be sure no one saw them go in and took Shannon's hand. They began to walk faster, all the while Ceara held onto her until they came to a clearing with the foundation of a house in it. She nodded her head and smiled with pride. “Is this yours?” Shannon asked and walked around the good sized foundation slowly. “No” Ceara laughed and tried to catch her breath. “Tis my gift to Bram junior and Ms. Aggie.” she laughed excitedly. “This is one hell of a gift.” Shannon studied the layout for a moment. “How big will this house be?” she tried to calculate it in her head but Ceara was faster. “Two stories, up and down, plus the basement if he wants it...” she paused. “2300 hundred square feet I think my Da said it would be. Him and my other two brothers have done this all themselves with the help of some of the neighbors.” She nodded her head excitedly as Shannon watched her for a long moment. “Wish you were my sister.” She said at last and stared back at the foundation. She could almost see the house spring forth from the ground and take its rightful place on the foundation.
“When will you give it to him?” she asked finally and walked back to stand beside her. “Well, it is getting cold out now.” Ceara thought a long moment. “They are to be married in the summer. I would like to have it done and ready by then. Da and Keelan have promised me it will be so. Deven on the other hand is going back to the university soon. That will slow it down some. Da built our house mostly alone though, some help from the neighbors but most of it he did alone.” Ceara's eyes danced with excitement. “Wow. I think he will love it. They will” Shannon smiled at her and cocked her head to the side. “You hear someone?” Ceara nodded and looked back over her shoulder. Bram Senior, Keelan and Deven stepped out of the woods behind them and smiled. “You scared us.” Keelan laughed and started to pull on his tool belt. “I could say the same for you.” Ceara nodded and smiled, all of them eyed Shannon. Bram nodded at her and tied on his own tool belt. “Starting the first wall today.” he told them and smiled widely. “This is quite the gift my girl is giving.” he nodded to Ceara and hung his jacket on a low branch, taking the time to roll up his shirt sleeves. “Little Bram has been stressing about where they would live after the wedding. He has taken on evening hours at the local grocery in hopes of saving enough money to be able to afford their life together.”Ceara explained. Shannon nodded her head understanding now why the younger Bram was never around. “They are a little young to marry, aren't they?” Shannon asked and had all 4 pairs of eyes brought to her face at once. “Some would think. Maybe for a yank but here in
Ireland...things are a little different. Aggie promised herself to Bram when they were in diapers still.” his father smiled at the memory. He looked over all their heads then and smiled. “Right on time this mick always is.” he watched as the truck made its way up the narrow make shift road they had cleared next to the house. From the back of the truck six other men waved at them, two more road in the front. “They have the wood.” he told Ceara and smiled. “Exactly the kind you wanted. It cost more.” he told her and she nodded her head. “but it will be worth it, the frame will stay straighter, is better suited for our seasons.” he smiled down at his daughter and hugged her close. Ceara turned back to Shannon. “We had best get back before we get talked into helping.” Shannon nodded and tossed a wave over her shoulder as noise erupted in the clearing as all the men greeted each other and began unloading the truck. Shannon paused as Osef waved at her and with his hat in his hands, made his way over to her. “Osef.” She smiled warmly at him. He flushed slightly, something she didn't notice but Ceara did. “Good day to you Shannon.” He dipped his head and smiled. He cleared his throat and looked past her at Ceara who he smiled at and then looked back at Shannon. “I was wondering.” he began and Shannon's heart sank. “If you would like to get a pint with me in town tonight. Nothing formal” he assured her and smiled so brightly she had to swallow twice to find her voice. “I, um. Sure.” she said helplessly looking back at Ceara who shrugged at her. She stood helplessly as he smiled at her and could have kissed Bram senior for calling him away. “Sounds like a hot date.” Ceara laughed and hooked her arm through Shannon's. Shannon blew out a long breath and shook her head.
“You could have saved me there.” She squinted at Ceara playfully. “I could have but Osef is a nice boy and you should get out more.” Ceara clucked at her as they continued across the field. “I don't need to be dating now. I have a lot of stuff I'm dealing with.” Shannon frowned as they came to a stop outside Ceara's work room. “Are any of those things alcoholics anonymous?” “What?!” Shannon demanded and shook her head. “Of course not!” she sputtered. “Then it will not kill you to get a pint with the lad.” she pulled the door open and stepped inside. While she checked the temperatures Shannon hung up her jacket and eyed the setup nervously. “What if I screw up?” she worried her bottom lip and watched Ceara raise an eyebrow in her direction. “There is no messing up in art. Things you didn't plan on happening usually make things better. Like accidental surprises.” “Sounds like pregnancy and not everyone is happy to discover that.” Ceara laughed at her comment and handed her her pipe. “You make a child sound like a tumor” “Sometimes they are.” Shannon lifted the pipe as Ceara instructed and dipped it in the molten glass. Ceara shook her head at her last comment. “Children are gifts that everyone should experience at least one time. Roll it” she moved around her giving her room to maneuver. Shannon blew into the pipe, rolling it as Ceara barked out instructions. For thirty four minutes the conversation halted and they worked with intense concentration. “Hit it.” Ceara ordered “Now, break it off.” Shannon smacked the glass with the punty and watched it fall off onto the bench. Ceara handed her a large tweezer like tool
and instructed her to pull at the glass before it cooled, shaping it into what it was meant to become she had said to her. Shannon did as she was instructed and quickly fell into an easy pace beside her. She picked the piece up and shoved it into the glory hole to reheat it. Pulling it back out she continued to shape the piece quickly as Ceara watched in awe. The girl had some natural talent, no one was going to know she hadn't done this order with her own two hands. She blew out a heavy sigh as Shannon shoved the 1st of the 28 pieces into the Annaaler to cool. Shannon rolled her shoulders and pulled off her over shirt. She stood in a tank top much like the one Ceara had worked in and understood finally why she normally wore shorts as well. Ceara pulled two bottles of water out of the small refrigerator and handed one to her. “You did very well” she told her and sat down on the stool across the work table from her. “You sound surprised.” Shannon lifted and eye brow and sipped the water thankfully. “Not everyone has natural talent.” Ceara shrugged and watched Shannon roll the pipe between her hands. Watching her, she understood the need that would be raging inside her chest. That need to create and create well. She had burned with it for months until her mother had finally let her have free reign over her own works. She had opened her wings and soared with each piece she had created. That was so long ago now and still the feeling remained the same with each piece and the hunger never really subsided. Shannon rolled her neck and hefted the pipe. Ceara smiled now and let her test herself as she silently watched her dip the pipe, then she began to work it alone. Ceara spoke not a word as she rolled the glass, blew into the pipe and worked it into something so truly beautiful it left her speechless. Then she went back, re dipping the same glass back into the molten glass and forming a second layer over it. She worked it quickly, her skin dripping with sweat as she
twisted the two pieces around each other, then worked them into one. It was as if she had taken on Ceara's own spirit, then she wondered if it was possible for this woman to chAnnal her mother. She smiled at the thought. She missed her Mum quite a bit still and rubbed her hand absently under her heart as she watched Shannon warm both pieces again, then worked them, pulling them in opposite directions yet it made them fit together so much better. She saw in the glass the image Shannon was going for and at last when she banged the pipe against the table and it broke away Ceara saw her own passion come through. Shannon stood looking down at her first piece and her eyes grew as big as plates. “That is amazing.” Ceara said softly, watching Shannon's face as she studied the twisted glass in awe. Shannon smiled slowly and brought her eyes to Ceara's. “I went into a daze...forgot you were here.” She absently reached up and stroked her hair. “It does that to ya.” Ceara nodded and smiled. “How are you feeling?” She watched as she gently picked up the piece and put it into the Annaaler to cool next to the first one. Shannon shook her head and walked back to the pipe but Ceara stood up and took it from her gently. “You can't do more than two today.” she saw the annoyance creep into her eyes and was happy for it. “Why not?” Shannon asked, refusing to pout but wanting to. “You are not used to this work. Your shoulders are going to hurt terrible if you do anymore.” Ceara rested the pipe against the wall and fired down the furnace. “I was having a good time.” Shannon whined slightly and Ceara smiled, she wanted her hungry for it. That was the only way they were going to make it through the next 26 pieces together. Shannon walked over and hugged her. Taken off guard Ceara stood for a moment, not hugging her back but trying to figure out what to do. Shannon let her go
abruptly and walked out of the room whistling happily. Ceara stood watching her go and wondering how the hell she was going to avoid that happening again. She dressed though she didn't want to go and she frowned at herself in the mirror. If she was going to spend anymore time in Ireland she was going to have to go shopping. She held her earrings up to her ears and sighed. She really didn't want to hurt Osef, he was a very sweet boy. She chose the simpler of the two pairs and fastened them in her ears while glancing at the clock. She didn't want to date, wasn't going to. She was going to have to tell him she didn't want this and put a stop to it at once before he got hurt. She smoothed her hair with her hands and glanced at the clock again when the doorbell rang downstairs. Moments later she heard Nessa running up the stairs and heard the tap on the door. “Osef is here.” She said through the closed door and ran back downstairs. Shannon smiled nervously at herself in the mirror. She had never broken anyones heart before. She made her way downstairs and smiled warmly at Osef as he stood clutching tiny little yellow flowers in his giant hands. It should have looked silly but it didn't. Big Bram sat in the corner of the room near the fireplace reading the nightly news and sipping from a cup of warm brandy. He smiled at her as she came into the room and she smiled back whole heartedly. Most of the family was in the room. Keelan and Dealla played chess in front of the fire, each concentrating on the board so intently Shannon was surprised she couldn't hear their thoughts. Nessa snuggled into a blanket reading a book and Deven sat the writing desk in the corner assembling what looked like some type of plane. Bram junior was at work at the grocery and Ceara was...where is Ceara? She wondered. Osef held his hat in both his hands, he had pulled it off the moment she had accepted the flowers from her. He smiled brightly and her stomach
dropped painfully, this was going to be harder than she thought. Shannon cleared her throat and allowed him to help her into her jacket. She had to get this over with. Together they waved at the family and made their way outside. From the upstairs window Ceara watched as he helped her into the truck, smiled sadly at the happy way he ran around the outside of it before climbing it beside her. She wondered if she would ever again feel the excitement of love. She shook off the feeling, sipping on her own warm brandy. She was a fool she told herself and turned back towards her fire. She had gone and developed feelings for a woman she could never have, could one be more foolish than this? She sat down, alone in the dark with a plan of drinking herself to sleep. The pub was packed, it seemed the whole of the town was there. She smiled at the woman she knew worked for Bram sometimes at night. He had worked all day on the house in the woods and had given in to a night off. Her name was Sally and she served up an excellent pint Osef assured her. The first thing Shannon noticed when she sat down with Osef was that his eyes tended to wander to Sally and rest there for a moment or two whenever he thought no one was watching. She wondered just how long he had felt that way towards her and sighed a sigh of relief. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all. Sally brought them two pints as someone launched the crowd into a fast stepping song. Shannon watched as men and women a like rose and joined into the dance. The pub may have been smaller than most of the bars in New York but it certainly had a lot more character. When Osef reached out and touched her hand she knew she had to talk to him. “Osef.” she said so sadly he moved his hand away afraid he had offended her some how. “Shannon?” he watched her intently for a moment before smiling at her and sipping his pint.
“I'm getting divorced.” she started slowly he nodded his head and smiled again. “I know lass, you told me all that on the way back from the cliffs...remember?” his eyes were gentle when they met hers and she felt the clinch in her stomach. He thought he loved her but he didn't even know her. Something inside her wept for him. “Osef you are a very sweet man.” she began again and saw the smile die on his lips. His eyes went very slowly sad and the hand that had been gently caressing hers, stopped. He nodded his head slowly and she wanted to lie down beneath he feet of the dancers and be stomped to death, she felt horrible. “But you don't want me. Do you now?” he said it softly, patted her hand gently and looked away. “I'm so sorry.” She said sadly and he knew she meant it but he hurt. “The bitch of it is Shannon that I am always the guy women want to want but never the guy they do.” he stood, pulling his jacket back on and looked down at her sadly. “Osef...” she said after him but he didn't look back, just walked away with his broken heart in his eyes. She sat in the booth and finished her pint, then drank his as well. Her head was swimming slightly but she ordered another and decided she'd rather be drunk than depressed. She had lost count of her pints when she looked up and found Ceara standing over her. “I see you are having some sort of lone party.” she said and slid into the booth across from her. “Is better this way.” Shannon slurred slightly and raised her hand for another drink. “Aggie called me. Said Osef left you here, wouldn't talk about what happened.” she paused. “What happened?” Ceara asked gently, raising an eye brow at Sally when set the pint in front of Shannon. “One more for me please Sally and perhaps some black
coffee for my friend here.” Sally nodded and walked away. Ceara watched Shannon gulp down first few sips before her eyes came back to her own. “The bitch of it is Ceara.” she said in the same sad tone Osef had used. “Is Osef is the type of man women always want to want but never the on they do.” Shannon sipped more of her drink greedily and wished she didn't feel so horrible for hurting him. She wondered silently how many pints she would have to drink to erase the pain she had seen in his face. Ceara nodded slowly, thanking Sally, she sipped her own pint and nudged the coffee towards Shannon. “Osef had a long time girlfriend.” Ceara began. “He loved that girl more than life.” She nodded and sipped, letting the story form in her mind. “He asked her to marry him and all was going so well. Osef is a sheep herder and a great one at that but he can't compete with fancy things or fancy people. Not that he would ever want to. When this man Jonathan Keiths came into town to paint he asked Osef's girlfriend to pose for him.” she slid a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one, letting the smoke curl around her head before continuing. “She'd go over there every day posing for this man from France who had money, power, fame and fortune at his disposal. Osef never tried to stop her, he knew how much art meant to her as she was a painter herself. The things she created were enchanting to him. He never thought she would leave him.” She sipped again, puffing on her cigarette and wished again she could give the damn things up. She only smoked when she drank but even that was too much. “One day goes to pick her up, knocks on her front door and her Da answers, tells him she isn't there so he leaves and goes to the guys studio. The door isn't locked and he walks in, finds her riding him on the floor of the studio, real porno like.” she crushed out the cigarette and held her hand up for
another pint. “He is crushed and never says a word, just backs up quietly and leaves. Late she comes to him, tells him she is in love with this guy. Osef nods, accepts it and watches her walk away. No one had ever seen him so broken. He hasn't even looked at another girl since then...so you can understand why he is taking this kind of hard.” Shannon nodded at Ceara and took her cigarettes, drawing one from the pack she lighted it and inhaled deeply. Blowing out smoke slowly she brought her eyes back to Ceara's. “Well I feel even shittier now.” she said softly and closed her eyes for a moment. She opened them quickly when the pub spun around on her and she almost lost her dinner. “You shouldn't. Osef is in control of his own heart. Point is maybe he has bad taste.” Ceara handed Sally some bills and pushed the coffee closer still towards Shannon. She took the hint and lifted the black liquid to her lips, sipping slowly. “You saying he shouldn't want me?” Shannon met her eyes, her stomach churning. “Maybe I'm saying he should chose more wisely.” Shannon's eyes darkened at her angrily. “Maybe I'm worthy of his affection just unwanting of it.” “Shannon. I never said you were a poor choice. All I meant was you are badly bruised, you have no idea what you want now and you should really take some time to figure you out. Trent wasn't good to you, he should have been but maybe he wasn't man enough.” She shook her head, stood up. “I'll take you home.” she reached out to Shannon and helped her to her feet. She was quiet all the way to the small car she had driven down to the pub in and let Ceara help her into the car. “I don't think anyone is man enough.” Shannon finally said as they pulled away from the pub. She stared hard out the window, lost in her own thoughts.
“All my life I've been waiting for that one person to come along who would make it impossible to breathe because I loved them so much, I've yet to find it.” Tears danced dangerously close to spilling over in her eyes and she hated herself for being so weak. “Maybe it isn't a man you need.” Ceara said softly, watching for a reaction as she drove them slowly through the hills. Shannon shook her head. “No it is definitely a man I want.” “A woman could be just as good for you.” Maybe she shouldn't have had that second pint, her head felt slightly fuzzy and she knew she would regret her words. “You actually think you could be man enough?” Shannon's words rang out like a challenge. Ceara didn't answer her, just kept her eyes glued to the road and drove towards home in silence. She shouldn't have said any of what she had said and her head was beginning to ache. Shannon laid back against the seat with her eyes closed and Ceara wished for a long moment that she had had the courage to answer her last question. Since she didn't, she focused on getting them home and did so not a moment too soon. As soon as the car came to a halt in the driveway Shannon was out of it and at the wall, hurling her dinner and everything she had drank into the grass beside it. All the lights in the house were off and Ceara knew it would be hard to get her inside in this condition as drunk as she was. Shaking her head and fighting off the cold she decided it was best they walk for a while. “Want to walk?” she asked Shannon who looked slightly green around the edges still. “Fresh air sounds like a good idea.” So they walked, in silence for a while. As they neared the house in the woods Ceara smiled. “They got the walls up today, not all of them but a good part of the skeleton.” She was so excited she could barely hide it. Shannon blew out a long sigh as if traveling back
hundreds of miles to were they stood. “I'm not like you.” she said at last, causing Ceara to stop talking and stare at her in confusion. “How so?” she asked, waited. “I don' t want a woman, don't want you.” she stated and stared past her into the woods. “I never said you had to want me Shannon.” Ceara said slowly, as if weighing each word carefully. Shannon shook her head at her. “No you never said...but I see the way you watch me and I feel the way your eyes slide over my body.” she paused turning her back to her. “I could never be like you.” Ceara noted she couldn't throw stones while looking her in the eyes and shook her head. “Everyone is different. You don't have to be a lesbian to want a woman, you don't have to be like me. You just have to want, feel...” Ceara shook her head, swallowing hard. Shannon swung back towards her, weaving unevenly as the ground spun beneath her. “I feel like I have made a huge mistake.” she said softly. “I should have never come to Ireland and stayed at your inn.” Ceara frowned, injured by her words. “It's not an inn Shannon, we accepted you into our home. You were alone and had no place to go, it was easier to get you to stay if you thought it was.” Ceara said softly and walked over to take her arm as she swayed with the night breeze. Shannon sighed heavily, guilt was eating holes through her drunkenness and she just wanted to sleep now. Ceara took her arm and lead her slowly towards home. Shannon wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning and she wished she could be so lucky. It took three attempts and two of her brothers to get Shannon up the stairs. She was green from the drink and drunk she was. Ceara thanked them for helping her get her to her room. She handed her a nightgown and sent her to
the bathroom to change. She lighted the fire in her hearth while Shannon was in the bathroom all the while trying to fight off the things she had said to her. She hadn't just injured Osef's heart tonight. Rejecting the thought she struck the match and set the fire to blaze. Shannon wasn't coming out of the bathroom. She walked to the door and knocked softly. “Shannon?” when there was no answer she nudged the door open and found her lying on the bathroom floor, fully dressed and sound asleep with the nightgown as a pillow. “None of that now.” Ceara ordered and began flicking cold water from the faucet gently in her face. Shannon stirred slowly and tried to focus her eyes. Ceara pulled her to her feet and picked up the night gown. She pulled off Shannon's jacket and helped her take off her shoes. Shannon grabbed the shirt on her back to steady herself and scratched her ever so slightly with her nails. It sent dual chills of wanting and shame down Ceara's spine. This one was not for her, she told herself and helped her off with her shirt. “Do you like my breasts?” Shannon slurred, trying to stand up straight and finding it hard when the room kept swaying. Ceara undid her bra from behind and slipped the nightgown over her head as the bra hit the floor. She was not answering anymore of these questions. “Let's get you to bed then.” she said and tried to unbutton Shannon's pants. Shannon reached down to help and as their hands touched, their eyes met and electricity passed through Ceara's stomach with a jolt. Shannon held her gaze, stilling her fingers with her own and whispered “I know you want me.” when she said nothing in return, Shannon reached out and lifted her chin with her own hand. “I know you do. I see it in your eyes, can smell it on you.” her voice was husky and Ceara knew she had to get away before anything happened that she would regret. “I have these dreams.” Shannon went on.
“You do such amazing things to me in them.” her eyes burned against Ceara's own and she wished the air in the room wasn't so thick, her lungs ached. “You're all set for bed then.” she said softly and turned to leave. Shannon followed her into the bedroom. “Would you stay if I were sober?” she asked of her back. Ceara paused with her hand on the door knob and shook her head without looking back. “If you were sober, would you want me to stay?” she stepped out into the hall and left Shannon to ponder that question on her own. Her heart beat sounded in her ears and she needed desperately to get away. Instead of fleeing, she walked to her own room and concealed herself inside. She slept fitfully through out the night, cursing the woman who was plaguing her dreams. The next morning rolled in and the scenery outside her bedroom was no less foggy than the contents of her head. She could only recall bits and pieces of talking with Ceara but what she could recall was bad enough. She groaned as she forced her eyes closed. It wasn't good enough she had hurt Osef so badly but now Ceara had been injured as well. She thought back over her relationship with Trent. In the beginning she had been so happy but she had always worried something was missed. She had loved him whole heartedly but the gap never seemed to go away. She had thought for a while if they had a child then maybe that gap would close. She knew now that that wouldn't have changed anything. Her mind kept coming back to sex. Was sex with Trent great? No. Never. Startled, she thought back for a moment over her few and carefully chosen lovers. She sat up on a loud groan and hissed out a breath. She could not recall a single time when one of her lovers had set off all her bells and whistles. Shaken, she swung her legs out, letting her feet touch the floor and wondered who had been in and set her fire. On a plate near the fire laid two aspirin
and a bottle of water. She shook her head carefully, afraid that her brain would slide out and sighed. Ceara continued to take care of her even after the horrible things she had said to her. Her mind clicked back to Osef and her stomach churned miserably. Why must things like this always happen? She shuffled to the table and greatfully swallowed the aspirin. Out the window she saw Osef's truck pull up, watched him step out and wave at Bram junior. When he got back into the truck and drove away with out so much as a glance towards her windows she felt the full extent of his pain. Turning from the window she came to a stop as her door was gently knocked on, then pushed open before she could answer. Ceara stood with her hand on the knob, stuck in one place when her eyes met Shannon's. She carried her clothing from the night before, it was neatly pressed and folded as she often found it miraculously back in her closet. “So...this is your home. Not an inn?” Shannon asked softly, afraid to scare her away. “You are correct.” she didn't turn around, just continued to hang Shannon's possessions. “Why was I invited here?” with her back to Ceara she stared out the window, hearing her sharp sigh she shook her head. “You looked lost.” “Lost enough to lie to?” Shannon countered, turning to face her now as Ceara turned with fire in her eyes. “You flew into a foreign country alone and had no place to go. It was only natural I offer you a room.” Ceara's eyes continued to burn but she wasn't giving into it. “Thank you.” she said it so softly that the fire went out and the other woman's eyes settled on her own for a long moment. “You are welcome, Shannon.” she turned to leave, pausing with her hand on the doorknob. “You can stay for as long as you like.” she stepped back into the hallway and closed the door behind her with a soft
click. Shannon's head ached but not nearly as much as her heart. Her thoughts spun out of control until finally, unable to deal with it anymore she climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over her head. When she finally resurfaced her headache was gone but her disposition was still that of wanting a good hard fight. She dressed and made her way downstairs. She heard music and followed it to Ceara's work room. She was shocked to see her panting and trying to work a piece with one arm while spinning the pole with her foot. She swore sharply when the piece broke off and crashed to the floor. “You could have woken me.” she walked over to the work bench and tried to pick up the pole. “You had a bad night. Best to sleep it off.” she kept her foot firmly on top of the pole. “I can do it myself.” she told Shannon as her eyes came to a rest on the broken piece on the floor. “Seems you've tried that already today.” Shannon said softly. The fire sprung back into Ceara's eyes. She had tried to hard to be kind to this woman. Yet she continued to thrive on being under her skin and in her veins. Ceara turned her back to her and her need to taste, to touch, to take. She had to get away. “Why don't you just rest today.” she suggested and watched as Shannon's own eyes began to blaze. “Why don't you stop being so proud.” she snapped “and just let me help you.” “I don't need your help.” “No, Ceara never needs anyone.” “I though that was your song and dance” Ceara spun around on her, trembling with anger. “What is your deal?” Shannon countered, the edges of her vision going red as reason began to slip away from her. “My deal?” Ceara repeated and shook her head. With both hands gingerly on her hips she began to pace.
“I take you into my home. I try to be your friend, help you. You yell at me, make me feel horrible for the thoughts I can't help and tell me you are nothing like me! And you want to know what my deal is?” Ceara walked towards her, her speed and movement something like a recently released cheetah. In one swift movement she had Shannon backed up against the table with her hands positioned on either side of her so she couldn't escape. “Your thoughts?” Shannon huffed out a breath. “Your feelings?” she tried to push her away, stunned by the womans easy stance and solid muscle. She couldn't move her. Ceara shook her head and started to let her go, backing away. Unsure of what she had been trying to prove, she felt defeated. “See, there it is.” Shannon raised her chin in challenge. “You act as though you are going to do something, then you throw in the towel and step back.” she shook her head at her. Ceara didn't bother to trap her this time. No, instead she took one slow step forward, lifted Shannon's chin with thumb and gazed into her eyes. In a movement so slow, so easy she pulled Shannon to her and lowered her mouth to hers. The kiss shouldn't have been earth shaking, it was so soft, a mere whisper of how a man would have kissed her but it shook her to the roots of her hair. Shannon trembled as gently Ceara lead her deeper, sliding her tongue into her mouth and slowly exploring this new sensation as their tongues slid together, clashed, slid apart. Shannon made no move to get away. It was Ceara who stopped the kiss, stepped back and without a word walked from the room. When Shannon brought her eyes up she saw the grief stricken eyes of Osef who had apparently showed up just in time for the final act. He turned and walked away, hat clenched in his hands. Shannon swore under her breath and started to follow him. Rain was coming down in sheets outside, she ran through the house to get a coat. She'd cut him off at the front door. It took only moments but as she
came out the front door of the house he was already taking off down the street. Defeated, she decided to take a walk in the rain, alone. The grass was soaked under her feet and her mind was a mess. Kissing Ceara had been the single greatest moment of her adult life. It had felt so right that she couldn't understand why she had just stood there and walked away. She walked until she was soaked through and through, surprised at long last when she stopped walking by the fact that she had walked to the house in the woods. It had a roof and a door now, she made her way up the front steps of the wide porch to have a closer look. She stopped when she heard the sobbing, turning quickly she began to flee back down the steps. Pausing, she stepped quietly to the window. Her heart stopped dead in her chest. Ceara sat on the floor inside, her back against the wall, her head in her hands and she was crying. The knife in Shannon's heart turned one full turn and caused her turn away. She should give her her space, she should let things go. She turned to the door and stepped inside. “No.” Ceara said shaking her head. “Go.” She ordered. Shannon turned to obey but stopped before she ever made it back to the door. “Ceara.” she said softly, stepping slowly towards her. Ceara shook her head and wiped at her swollen eyes. “I want to be alone.” she said on a broken sob and wished Shannon would just go. “You kissed me.” “You kissed me back. Damn it.” Ceara pushed her self up off the floor, heading towards the door. “Is this how we are going to deal with it? By running away from each other?” “What is it you want from me Shannon? You want me to be your one female conquest so you can say you've been there
and done that. Then you can move on with your life?” “What would you even ask that?” Shannon threw back at her. “I have never used anyone in my life as a conquest. Ever.” she said softly, looking her in the eyes. Ceara shook her head. “Do us both a favor, pretend that kiss never happened.” “Fine, it never happened.” Shannon lowered her eyes and stared at the floor. “Only, I'm glad it did.” she said it so softly at first she wasn't even sure she had said the words. Ceara looked her in the eyes and shook her head. “It's not going to happen again.” with that she stepped out the door once again and left Shannon staring after her. *~*~*~*~*~* Osef lived further up in the rolling hills that Shannon would have liked to remember. Each step she took in the blistering cold rain made her wish she wasn't so stubborn and she had just gone back to Ceara's and gotten over all this. But she had hurt Osef and she was sorry, so she would go to him and tell him so. The wind blew off the rolling green hills and she shivered. The coat she wore wasn't water proof and was so wet she was surprised it hadn't dragged her to the ground, yet. When his house finally came into view she picked up her pace and thought about what she would say to him. She wouldn't have much time to think as she came around the corner a huge wolfhound pup came running up to her. He happily hopped up and put his dirty paws all over her while yipping happily. She saw the door beyond them swing open and watched Osef come to a stop while staring at her. He whistled for the pup who immediately turned and ran to him gallantly. She noticed the pup didn't even try to put his muddy paws on him. Osef's eyes were as hard as stone when they met hers.
“You've come along way in the rain.” he looked at the sky beyond her but not at her. She nodded her head and half expected him to step back into his house and close the door in her face. Instead he lowered his voice as he brought his eyes to hers, holding her gaze. “You told me you needed time.” “I do need time.” she shivered, he ignored it. “Time for Ceara?” the snap came back into his eyes now, hard and mean. “That wasn't planned Osef and it won't be happening again.” he watched as her eyes went sad with the statement, his anger began to subside as he realized how miserable she was. “She has a way about her.” he offered, stepping back and allowing Shannon to step inside his home. “I pictured you here.” he said it softly, blushing. Shaking his head he turned to put the kettle on and disappeared from the room. She heard draws open and closed before he stepped back out and handed her a neat pile. “Bathroom is the second door down the hall, just strip off your wet stuff and put these on.” he motioned towards the over sized sweat suit she held in her hands. “Hang your towel on the rack when you are done please.” while she nodded and went to find the bathroom, he pulled mugs from one cupboard and tea from another. He smiled when he heard her swear smartly from down the hall. The bathroom was tiny, more of a water closet really with a toilet and a sink. He knew how hard it must be for her to change in there and thought for a moment that he should have told her of the bigger one upstairs. She finally returned as the kettle whistled. He poured their water while instructing her to hang her clothing near the fire. Carrying two mugs he made his way to the sofa in front of the fireplace and sat down. “Tell me everything.” he ordered and walked back to the table to bring over a plate of cookies Aggie had baked that
morning. Shannon sighed heavily and sat down, pulling her feet up under herself, she sipped the tea gratefully and wondered where to begin. “Ceara kissed me.” “I saw. From where I stood it seemed you were kissing her back.” Osef sipped from his own cup. Shannon set hers down and wished she could pace. “I'd never done that before. I didn't mean to hurt you Osef.” she reached out and patted his hand softly. “It happens that I am that kind of guy” he smiled sadly. “no one ever wants to hurt me, it just happens.” he shrugged and picked up a cookie. “I have no idea what is going on. I'm getting divorced, so far from home. I miss Dole.” she said sadly and felt the fresh wave of tears taking their place behind her eyes. “Dole?” Osef sipped his tea patiently, then set the mug down content to drum his fingers against the side of the cup. The pup came into the room and settled himself in front of the fire, Shannon watched him for a moment before answering. “My brother. He lives in New York with his wife and my niece.” she sighed, sniffling in defense. Osef nodded his head, waited. “Shannon.” he began, not sure what to say. “Ceara wouldn't kiss just anyone. You must be special to her.” he watched her intently for a moment. “I'm not gay.” Shannon said at long last. “I...don't know what I am, anymore.” she blew out a breath then decided to tell him everything. He listened patiently about her dreams and about the thoughts Ceara made her have. “Don't you think you owe it to yourself and her, to find out what it may be between you?” any pain he may have felt before seemed to be dispelled by the fact that Shannon was as torn up about all this as he was. She gently touched his hand.
“I wish things were different Osef.” she sighed. “Me too.” he smiled slowly. When his phone began to ring he picked it up and the smile died on his lips. He told the caller that he 'hadn't seen Shannon all day' and hung up, frowning. He hated to lie. “You could have told her I was here.” she cocked her head at his smile. “Let her sweat it out.” he stretched out his legs and reached for the remote control. “Let me show you real television.” he laughed and flicked the set on. *~*~*~*~*~ * It was after midnight, where the hell is she? Ceara paced. She had called Osef three times but she had never shown up there. It was her own damn fault she reminded herself once again. She should have never let her wants and needs get in the way. She had twenty six pieces left to go and she was not going to screw things up. She shouldn't have kissed her. She knew this but more than that, she shouldn't have allowed the feelings that were crushing her from within her own heart. “Stupid thing” she muttered at the thought and continued to pace. She had no idea were Shannon had gone off to. Worse yet, she had no idea when or if she would come back. She paused at the window when headlights slashed through the night sky and penetrated her window. Her heart raced as she prayed it was her being dropped off by someone, who though? She didn't know anyone other than Osef and he hadn't seen her. Turning from the window she once again began to pace. At one sixteen am she gave up and went into the living room. Turning on the television she settled back against the old sofa and tried to relax. “Have you ever seen this movie?” Osef passed her the
popcorn and shook his head. “No, have you?” he stood to add another log to the fire. “Once or twice.” she crunched as she spoke. Osef had convinced her to spend the night. He even offered to sleep on the couch but she wouldn't allow him to do that. It was his home, she was going to sleep on the couch herself. “Should I call her?” she asked sadly, trying to focus on the screen. “Do you want to call her?” He asked and reached around her for a handful of popcorn. She shook her head slowly in response and pointed at the screen. “Here!” she smiled widely. “Don't miss this part or you will be lost later!” he settled back and focused on the screen. The television set flickered in the dark. Ceara sat, alone, in that dark watching a horrible American movie and wishing for two things. First, that sleep would take her away and erase this whole miserable day or two, Shannon would come back and everything could go back to normal. She dozed off on the couch. At least sleep was kind. Shannon woke up to the sound of loud knocking on Osef's door and listened as he answered it. She sat up when she heard Ceara's angry voice. “That's her jacket Osef, I know she's here.” “She is here but she doesn't want to see you” his voice was apologetic and Shannon closed her eyes happy he had taken care of it. “You lied to me.” she heard the hurt in Ceara's voice now and regretted it. They should have at least told her Shannon was safe. When Osef didn't answer right away, Shannon was confused. Then she heard the door close and their voices muffled outside. She strained to hear what they were saying but couldn't make it out through the wall.
“For the love of Christ Ceara what were you thinking?” “I wasn't” she ran her hands through her hair angrily. “That much is at least right.” he stood staring at her. “So now what?” he watched her as she paced. “Now what, what?” she stopped and stared at him. His eyes went cold and she shook her head. “I didn't take her from you Osef.” she said softly, stepping towards him. He shook his head in answer and looked past her into his hills. “No, you didn't. Somethings just feel awfully close to home.” he shrugged and kicked at the dirt with the tip of his boot. “It is not a simple thing.” Ceara met his eyes, looked away again. “What isn't?” confused, he shook his head. “This thing between she and I. It is not simple, I wish it was.” she admitted on a heavy sigh. “It must be a very simple thing.” he looked back towards the house. “She didn't bring you up at all last night.” seeing the pain in Ceara's eyes he wished he could take the words, the dishonesty of them back. “Tell her if she wants her things sent anywhere, to let me know.” she turned on her heel and climbed back into her ancient truck. He stood staring at the road long after she was gone. Hands in his pockets he swore to himself and wished he hadn't said what he did. He hurt one of his oldest friends and it was all because someone else had hurt him. Looking back over his shoulder at the door he decided the best plan of action was no action at all. Instead of facing old ghosts, old hurts, he chose to walk over his own hills, he sought the silence only they could provide. Shannon watched him walk off up and over a hill before he disappeared from sight. She poured herself a cup of coffee
and perched on a stool in the quiet kitchen. Even the dog had abandoned his place near the fireplace. She had seen Ceara's ancient truck drive off and everything inside her had churned. She wanted to go after her, demand answers and at the same time she wanted to run from her afraid of those same answers. Things had been so simple once. The thought brought a sad smile to her lips. Those times were gone. She ached for the noise and distraction of New York and felt very overcome suddenly by home sickness. She walked back to the fire place which continued to burn brightly. It filled the room was the amazing smell of wood smoke and winter. She sat down in the center of the rug, crossing her legs Indian style and closed her eyes. In her head she held a picture of her brother. She then, mentally, brought that picture to life. Where would Dole be? At his studio. She could see him there so easily. Anna and Brennon would be nearby. They were never far from him, she knew. She saw his fingers moving over the fret board and smiled inwardly at him. Then her thoughts took careful flight in another direction. She could see her, muscles straining, the bandages that were supposed to be on her hand, discarded in a heap. Her shirt would be soaked, her hair soaked and plastered to her head. Her eyes would be focused on what her hands were creating. The radio would be playing one of the few American rock stations she got on her satellite radio and she would be reveling in the acid tones of it. Shannon could smell her, the pungent scent of sweat and the soap she would have used in the shower. She always smells like a summer field of wild flowers and rain. She could see the quiet determination in her eyes and smiled to herself. Frowning, she opened her eyes and decided to let things lay where they had fallen for the moment. By her count they had 24 pieces left to go. She had made a promise she reminded herself and began to pull her shoes back on. Osef came through the back door, his eyes were distant and his features strained. For a moment
he looked past her, through her. His unseeing eyes not taking in anything as he pulled off his jacket and hung it near the door absently. Then he turned to her, focusing and smile slowly. “Did you sleep well?” He asked, his expression from mere moments before, cast aside. She watched him for a long moment. Crossed her arms, uncrossed them and frowned. “Are you ok?” she pulled herself up onto the stool at the counter and squinted at him, studying him for a long moment. “I am fine, I am sure of it.” he assured her. “I slept fine thanks. I don't know how I ever slept without a fireplace before.” “No fireplaces in New York?” he poured himself a cup of coffee and refreshed hers. “No fireplaces where I lived in New York, anyway.” She smiled in thanks and sipped from her cup thoughtfully. “You built this house for her didn't you?” she watched the shadows of the day play across his features. Watched as his temperament changed rapidly, then he reigned it in and smiled bitterly. He looked around for a moment and sighed. “I did, yes. After...everything I just couldn't sell it. I've a mind to rip out most of it and start over though.” his eyes smiled excitedly now. “How would you change it?” Shannon listened, excited by his sudden energy. “Well, first I'd have my way with this kitchen. I wanted it to be homey. Maybe one large room with a breakfast bar.” Shannon eyed the counter she sat at and looked behind her. She was already seeing what he described to her. “Osef...” she smiled at him “I'm sitting at a breakfast bar in the living room. This is one huge room and it is very homey.” His eyes danced at her. “I know. I changed it myself just this past summer.” he laughed and sipped from his cup.
“She came for you this morning” his tone was apologetic and he saw her eyes fall instantly. “Shannon..” She shook her head at him and looked past him out the window. “I can't just run away from her.” she spoke softly, sadly. “You didn't run away from him either. He drove you away.” he saw the pain play in her features. Watched her internal fight. “Was it very hard to be with him?” Osef lowered himself onto a stool across from her, crossed his ankles and watched her. “No, not always. In the beginning Trent was so good to me. Then...he wasn't. He cheated, lied and brought woman to our home when I wasn't there. I couldn't trust him anymore...” her eyes took on a degree of sadness while she spoke. He saw it, recognized it and wished her past it. “And Ceara?” he asked softly. He watched her chest rise and fall in a long drawn out sigh. “She is like no one else.” she said softly, smiled. He wondered in that moment if she knew how close she was to falling for her...if she already had. “No, there isn't.” he agreed. “I was raised in a house were my father drank beer from a can, cheap beer. He watched sports on tv in stained wife beaters and smoked horrible cigars. People who were different than us were wrong. Feminine men were fairies, fags and fruit. I hated the way he spoke of people. Lesbians were dyke's, carpet munchers, not worthy. I hated it and after a while I hated him.” she wished for a cigarette, cleared her throat. “I grew up with boyfriends because that was expected of me. I denied myself any thoughts of what it would be like to touch my lips to another girls because it was wrong of me to think that way. I wanted so badly to be normal just like everyone else. Now I find I can't catch my breath when
she is near me and I can't breathe when she isn't. I think of nothing and no one else and yet I still can't say the words that I seem to need to say to free myself of all of this confusion.” She met his eyes now, unsure of what she would find there. Osef smiled at her warmly, reaching out he patted her arm with his hand and sighed. “All the good ones are dead, taken or gay.” he laughed softly. Her face closed up instantly, her eyes left his. “Oh come now.” he said softly. “Maybe you are not ready to say the words lass but you know in your heart that you are falling for a woman. That my dear, makes you at least a little bit gay in anyones book.” Osef laughed softly and reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of battered cigarettes. Looking at her sheepishly he smiled and pulled one from the pack. “I keep trying to give these things up but I find they come me done.” “Odd.” Shannon smiled. “I was just thinking about how much I'd like one of those.” “Help yourself.” He stared off out the window as smoke curled around his head. “If I could rewrite history. Oh, what I wouldn't give.” he said softly, smiled sadly. “Sometimes I just wonder how or why I haven't gotten away from here.” he shook his head, drug deeply on the cigarette and stared out at his hills. “I could sell this place easily.” he said looking around himself with pride. “Maybe find my way to America, have a new life.” his voice was so wistful she smiled at him. “Why don't you?” she sipped her coffee. Taking a deep drag of her cigarette wondered just how much she was damaging her lungs and remembered why she had quit to begin with. “Why indeed.” he looked past her at a spot behind her on the wall.
“I'm not quite sure.” he answered finally. “Tis not like I plAnnad to herd sheep forever.” he admitted, his eyes beginning to dance with the prospect of a new adventure. “In New York women totally dig your type of accent.” she smiled at him as he flushed, laughing softly at her. “I will keep that in mind. Though I think I'd probably head for the other coast. Seems I'm tired of the rain and snow.” he watched her for a long moment, pondering. “Do you ever think about going back?” “Of course I do.” “Will you?” he watched her, her hand shook. Her mind was clearly confused. “I...” she frowned. “I haven't even thought about going back since...” And he knew what it was she was going to say. He decided he'd have to wait till she was ready to say it, all of it. “Ireland is beautiful. It has so much to offer the heart with its romantic sweeping of the hills. The roaring surf up at the tower. The tales of heartbreaking love and loss they sing about in the pub. Ireland is beautiful when you are in love. Otherwise...” he raised his eyes to hers. “It is one hell of a cold and lonely place.” with that he decided once and for all, he was going to start that new adventure. The sooner the better. “You're going to go, aren't you?” she asked him, pushing herself up from the stool. He nodded his head and smiled at her excitedly. “Might even put this place up for sale today.” She could have sworn if she hadn't been there, he'd have danced a jig. *~*~*~*~* Osef dropped her off after lunch. He had been so excited he had talked a blue streak all the way back to the O'Neills. She had heard most of it but her heart and mind had
seemingly deserted her. She wondered if she was right. If Ceara would be doing exactly what she wasn't supposed to be doing. When she stepped through the door into the front of the house she was greeted by silence. Discouraged, she headed upstairs to her room. She stepped in and gasped. “So you were there.” she said softly. She sat in the window seat with her ankles crossed and anger written across her features. “You knew I was.” Shannon countered and headed to the closet for a change of clothes. She pulled the door open, began going through her small selection of outfits, annoyed that she hadn't brought more. Never pack angry she told herself now with a sigh. “Did you sleep with him?” the question itself was delivered evenly, calmly. Her hand faltered on the sweatshirt she had been about to pick up. She didn't turn around. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut to hold in the pain. She couldn't go through this again. “I've decided to go home” she said softly in answer, feeling the knife twist in her gut leaving her breathless. Ceara spoke not another word. She simply stood, walking to the door with wounded eyes. “You spend a lot of time running away.” She said softly and stepped out, pulling the door closed behind her. Shannon closed the closet softly, laid herself down on the bed and began to sob. Ceara came back up the stairs, angering deserting her for fear. She raised her hand to knock and heard a sob from the other side of the door. She dropped her hand to her side, dropped her head and went to her work room. She felt like an animal, maybe she had had no right to accuse of her of any wrong doing and maybe she had no right to feel what she did for her but she did. Damn it. Damn her. Why did she have to wander off that plane and into her life? How could she get her to stay?? She sat down on her work stool and stared hard out the back windows over their land. She never wanted to force her to
leave, she only wanted to...only wanted to what? Possess her? Own her? Make her beg? All of those things and more and she hated it. Shannon was a lost little straight girl and she was stalking her like a dog in heat and it was not sitting well at all with herself. She had to do something to break the cycle, anything. Maybe going to the pub would help, maybe distance would do the trick. *~*~*~*~* If she had slapped her it couldn't have hurt worse. For the next two days she cried and slept. Finally when her tears ran out, she walked. Over the fields, into the woods, down by the river. Torn, she wanted so badly to run to her. Wanted even worse, to pack up and leave. Maybe she was right. Maybe she spent far too much time running away. She came to a stop at the top of a field. She had known Osef would be here, wondered how many more times he could be found lounging up against a tree, surrounded by sheep. He waved at her, smiled. She turned away. She was in no mood for happy smiles and pleasant conversation. She turned and began to walk again, confused Osef dropped his hand and frowned. Wondering what stupid thing Ceara had done now, he turned back to his last day of sheep and smiled to himself. It had been 3 days and he already had an offer on his house. She crossed back down through the woods, slowly circling over near little Bram's future house. She paused as she came around the corner and found she wasn't alone. She stood beside her father, together they looked at the blueprints and talked avidly about what was left to be done. She turned quietly and headed back into the tree's but Bram Sr. saw her and called out her name. She turned slowly, watching Ceara freeze as she did. Bram Sr. waved her over, Shannon wished for the strength to run and never stop. Instead she put one foot in front of the other until she was
before him. “What do you think?” He motioned towards the house. She turned around and studied it, unable to believe the outside was done so quickly. “It's amazing.” she said honestly and smiled. Ceara continued to study the blueprints, she had a tool belt slung low around her waist and her hands were uncovered. She wanted so desperately to take those hands and examine them, she resisted the urge. Barely. “The inside is coming along now too.” he told her, motioning for her to follow him inside. She followed obediently, could feel her eyes boring through the back of her coat. He walked her around the inside, pointing out details here and there. Shannon listened happily, glad to be out of Ceara's view. “Your son is going to love it here.” she smiled up at him. He nodded his head and smiled in return. “I hope so lass!” he boomed and turned to answer a question. When she stepped into the room her heart sped up, stopped, then damn near flew out of her chest. She knew she was there before she turned around to look. Once she did, their eyes locked and she couldn't look away. Her eyes seemed to scream don't run from me. Shannon turned away at once, made her excuses and started to walk back to the house. She was about half way back when she stopped walking and turned around. “How long are you going to follow me?” “How long are you going to walk without talking to me?” She countered. Shannon shook her head, exasperated. “I've made my flight arrangements.” She didn't meet her eyes. “Have you now?” she took three steps closer, closing the distance by half. “I have.” Shannon cleared her throat, shuffled her feet. “When do you leave then?” Ceara asked, trying to call her
bluff. “Next Tuesday.” Shannon raised her chin in challenge. “What airline?” Stumped, she didn't answer for a whole minute. “Ok, so maybe I didn't do it yet. But I'm going to.” “Why?” She took another step closer. “Is wanting me so bad?” “Stop it.” Shannon took a step back. “No. You made me a promise.” Ceara reminded her, took another step closer. “Promises are broken all the time. Things change.” “Things do change.” She came another step closer, standing barely a foot away now. “What is it you want from me?” She regretted the question before it finished leaving her mouth. Ceara closed the gap, crushed her to her chest. “You know exactly what I want. All you have to do is tell me to stop.” She crushed her mouth to hers. This time the kiss wasn't gentle and this time Shannon didn't fight it. Instead, she pulled her closer, deepened the kiss until her soul shook. As they pulled apart slowly Shannon's mind clouded, she tried to stop the fog but it was too late. “All you have to do is speak the words.” Ceara said barely louder than a whisper. She didn't have to ask what words, she knew. She shook her head Ceara took a step back, stepped past her and continued on her way home. Shannon stood as it began to snow and watched her walk away. When she was sure she was out of ear shot she whispered the words Ceara so desperately wanted to hear. “I want you.”to her surprise the words were a lot easier to say than the knowledge was to handle. *~*~*~*~* She avoided her the best she could but she had made a promise and it was time to meet that promise head on. She
took three deep breathes and headed down to her work room. She heard the music before she got to the door. Today it wasn't the light sounds of The Cranberries or anything remotely soft. Today the music was rough, edgy and it matched the look in Ceara's eyes when they met her own. “You're still here?” the question had some bite. “I made a promise.” “Promises change.” She locked her eyes on Shannon's for a long moment. “Sometimes they do and sometimes you just gotta suck it up and keep with it. It's only 24 more pieces, right?” “21.” Ceara pointed towards the Annaaler. “I did a few myself.” she walked across the room, nodded towards a crate. “I had Keelan help me put a few of the finished pieces in here. You want to see them?” Shannon walked over to pull the lid off the crate and caught her breath. “My god.” she said softly. “You do good work.” Ceara smiled, Shannon laughed. “I have a very good teacher.” “It's not all I could teach you.” Shannon took a step back. “I meant.” Ceara began slowly. “I could teach you other methods with the glass. I like where your mind is though.” She watched the light play in and out of Shannon's eyes. Wondered what she might have said... “Do you think people will believe you did these?” The wonder was written all over her face as she studied what they had created. “They are really very good Shannon. I talked to my agent and she seems to think I have a good show forming...” She broke off, looked away. “What?” Shannon asked, wondering what she wasn't
saying. “She wants me to call it 'In her hands.” she shook her head. “Ok? So what's the problem?” “Then people will know I didn't do them myself. I hate that idea.” “There could be no show at all.” Ceara ignored what she said and moved on. “She wants me to do this in a way that shows I worked with you, I was there instructing you every step of the way. So they see you creating my vision with your hands.” “That's brilliant!” Shannon smiled at her brightly. Her smile faded slowly when her eyes came back to her own. “You kissed me back.” she said it softly, her eyes confused by all she was feeling. “I know.” she blew out a long breath, walked over to the window and looked outside. “You have a way of pulling at me. You're hot, you're cold.” “I know.” Shannon said softly, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “I can't read you.” she said softly, coming slowly towards her. “Read me? I can't even figure out myself, how can you?” “Tell me you don't want me Shannon. Tell me and this all ends right here and now.” Ceara stood, trembling on the inside and praying she couldn't see it. Shannon shook her head slowly. “I can't say that. I can't say I want you yet either.” she wanted to tell her everything she had told Osef. Instead, she stepped to her and pulled her gently towards her. She brushed her lips gently over her own and sighed. “Let's get through the last 21 pieces. Then we can figure this all out.” Shannon offered. Ceara shook her head slowly. “See. I thought I could wait 28 pieces to take you to bed. Now it seems I've barely made it 7 and I ache for you.” Shannon closed her eyes for a long moment.
“Why me?” she asked softly. Ceara looked at her for a long moment. “Because you scare me.” She said honestly, Shannon looked at her surprised, silent. “I scare you?” she asked finally. “Oh god yes.” Ceara laughed softly. “Why?” “You make me want. You make me ache. I don't know what else to say.” “So you just want to sleep with me?” Shannon's heart shook, waited. Ceara met her eyes, unsure of how well Shannon could see through her. “No.” she said softly, locking eyes with her again. “I don't just want to sleep with you.” what Shannon saw there now, scared her. She took a deep breath, swallowing hard. “My father was a bigot.” she said softly as Ceara came slowly towards her. “Is he here now?” she looked around. Shannon shook her head. “He's dead.” “Then he isn't a bigot anymore and you don't have to worry about him, now do you?” Shannon shook her head slowly. “Come upstairs with me Shannon. Let me show you what it can be like.” Ceara held out her hand to her. “What if I want to stop?” her voice was barely a croak. “The minute you say stop, I promise, I will.” Shannon put her hand in her own and nodded. “Ok.” “Ok? I didn't ask you if you wanted a cookie.” she laughed. “I'm asking you to come to bed with me.” Ceara said firmly, pulling her to a stop and looking her in the eyes, waiting. Shannon nodded her head. “I know.”
“And you still want to come upstairs with me?” “Please.” Shannon whispered, Ceara barely heard her. Nodding her head she took her hand and led her upstairs, praying she could be patient and gentle. They walked upstairs in silence and paused at Ceara's bedroom door. “Are you sure?” she asked raking Shannon's body with her eyes. Shannon nodded, swallowing hard and held her breath as the door in front of them opened slowly. The room was a lot like the one she herself stayed in but it felt different. In place of the light and airy curtains Ceara had chosen darker ones. Most likely to block out the light when the artists hunger caused her to work late into the night. Instead of the light colored flower comforter on Shannon's bed, Ceara had a dark blue silk one that looked like the midnight sky, only softer. There were so many contrasts between the two rooms that Shannon found herself distracted, looking around while Ceara laid a fire and lit candles. Shannon came to a stop near the bedside table and picked up a handsomely framed picture of an older woman. “You have her eyes.” she said softly as she felt Ceara step up behind her. “My Da says I am a lot like her.” She smiled, pulled Shannon against her so her back met her chest. “Did she always smile like that?” “Ah, my Ma had a hell of a temper. She could crack a whip when she needed too.” she thought for a moment. “She always smiled though. Always had a warm hug for us growing up. It crushed me to lose her. I hate the look it put into my Da's eyes.” She took the picture gently from Shannon and turned it away from the bed. “Why do you turn her away from us like that?” Shannon watched her thoughtfully. “Shannon, if you had a penis instead of breasts I'd still turn her away. Tis not proper for my Mum to see the things I intend to do to you.”
Ceara raised Shannon's chin gently with her finger and traced Shannon's throat. Shannon swallowed hard, locking eyes with her. “Tell me you want me” she circled her slowly, like a shark. Shannon's stomach trembled at the demand. “Since the moment your eyes met mine on the plane.” Ceara faltered, pausing momentarily. “Say the words Shannon. I won't touch you unless you say them.” “I want you.” she said it softly, looking her directly in the eye. Ceara nodded slowly drawing Shannon to her chest. She tips her head, slowly, deliberately drugging her with the drawn out kiss. Exploring her mouth as it fit was the only part of her she wanted to touch, taste. “Lay down on the bed.” she says softly. Shannon kicks off her shoes and does as she is told, laying down with her eyes full of nerves. “Calm down love.” Ceara whispers with a smile. “I ain't gonna eat ya. Yet.” she laughs openly now at the look on Shannon's face. “No one's ever...” Shannon begins softly. “Ever what?” Ceara watches her intently, lays down beside her. Ceara begins to stroke Shannon's stomach, slowly, gently. “Ever done that to me.” Shannon blushes, looks away. “No one's ever gone down on you? Ever?” Mortified, Ceara clucks her tongue. Shaking her head she smiles wickedly. “I can fix that for you love.” Ceara murmurs, bringing her lips down softly on Shannon's. “You're trembling.” she says softly, reaches out to touch her cheek. “It's my first time.” Shannon meets her eyes. She nods and looks Shannon deep in the eyes. “I'll be gentle then.” “No. I want you to treat me like you would any other lover.”
“But you are not any other lover Shannon. You are a very special woman who has never had the pleasure of being loved properly.” On a sigh, Shannon settles back into the pillows to allow Ceara to begin their journey. Slowly, she draws out the kiss, tongue gently meeting tongue. Building a fire takes steps she told herself quietly. She would try to go slower, wanting to savor every moment she slowly deepens the kiss until she's drowning in it. Shannon's trembling and quiet sighs were making it impossible to focus. She couldn't believe this woman was here with her. She lifted her head, watched Shannon's eyes flutter open and felt something gentle and warm become unhinged inside her. “What's wrong?” her voice was hoarse, her skin flushed. “You're so innocent. I guess I'm just scared to hurt you.” “Ceara, I need you.” she whispered softly. “Shannon...you've never been with a woman. How do you even know you want me?” Shannon reached out slowly, bringing Ceara's hand to her waist line. “Touch me” she said softly. “You will see I know what and who I want.” Ceara closed her eyes, swallowed hard and gently slid her hand down the front of her pants. Her breath catches hot in her lungs as she finds Shannon hot, wet and wanting. Pulling her hand slowly back from her she sighs deeply. “Please.” Shannon whispers, pulling her closer. Fighting the urge to sink into her, Ceara levers herself over her “Spread your legs.” she whispers hoarsely and settles in between her thighs. Shannon moans softly as her weight pins her down. The kiss is frantic now, no gentleness, no ease. Tongue meets tongue in a battle. Hands grope, hips grind. Ceara gasps as Shannon boldly finds her nipple and strokes it to life. “I want you naked.” she eases off of her, helps her with her shirt. Shannon tugs at her bra, watching Ceara as she
removes her own shirt and bra, tossing them aside. Naked from the waist up, Ceara studies her openly. Her heart hammers hard in her chest as she takes her time. “Pants too.” she stands up, facing Shannon and undoes her top button of her jeans. She lowers the zipper slowly as Shannon's eyes follow her hand. Ceara pauses, slips her hand into the waist band of her own underwear and slowly strokes herself. Shannon's eyes grow wide, she watches her hand, licks her lips. “Shannon.” Ceara groans, stroking herself painfully slow. “Please take of your pants. You need to do this for me.” Ceara pulls her hand out of her pants, pulls down her pants and underwear and steps out of them. Shannon draws in a deep breath and Ceara smiles down at her. “What?” “You really do take command of every situation, don't you?” Shannon smiles playfully as Ceara takes her knee's in both her hands and separates them slowly. “Would you rather be in control?” she asks her, lowering herself on top of her slowly till her mouth was only a breath away and their stomachs were touching. “No.” Shannon shook her head, watching Ceara's lips. “You seem to be doing just fine.” Ceara pushed her hips down into her, smiled as Shannon moaned. “I've wanted to do this to you for so long.” “Tell me” Shannon whispered as Ceara littered her throat and face with slow kisses. “The way you walk. The way you sit. The way you stare out the window's over the fields.” Ceara growled low and sexy, captured her lip between her teeth and tugged gently. “You like the way I sit?” Shannon laughed, lost herself in her kiss for a moment. “Mhm” Ceara's tongue tangled with Shannon's while her hands trailed up her sides. Ceara found the sensitive part of her throat and feasted upon it as Shannon's pulse began to
hammer out of control. “How much longer?” Shannon murmured against her mouth. “How much longer?” Ceara asked, confused. “How much longer are you going to make me wait?” Shannon raised her hips, begging Ceara with her body to take her. Ceara laughed huskily. “In a wee bit of a rush my love.” she met her eyes, held her stare for a full moment. “You never told me how you want me.” she said softly. “How many ways could there possibly be?” Shannon laughed, Ceara leaned in and whispered in her ear, Shannon's eyes grew wide as she gasped. “Women can do that? All of that?” Ceara laughed in response, nodded. “You really have no idea do ya?” Ceara watched her face for a long moment, frowned. “I don't care how you make love to me Ceara, just make me yours.” “You don't need me to do that to make you mine Shannon.” She said softly. “But I want you to. Please. How many times do I have to ask?” Ceara smiled in response, slipping her fingers between Shannon's thighs and drawing in a deep breath. “You are so wet.” she said softly, kissing her deeply as she slid inside her for the first time. Everything inside her tried to hold on to the slippery grip she had on her control but it was slipping steadily. Shannon gasped and arched as she slipped in and Ceara caught her breath. Slow, she told herself, slow. Ceara pushed into her slowly, pulling back out just as achingly slow. “Has anyone ever eaten you properly?” she asked, breathless. Shannon shook her head, met her eyes. Ceara slid her body down over hers and spread her legs. There was no gentleness now, all need. Her tongue found
Shannon easily enough, she gasped and bucked against her mouth. Ceara settled in to take her time, Shannon's fingers twisted in her hair. Ceara licked her so painfully slow, taking her time to suckle her, to slide in and out before starting it all again. Shannon moaned enjoying the ride. She began to tense and Ceara slowed her mouth. “That was so mean” Shannon moaned. Ceara laughed, dallying some more. “Please, Ceara.” Shannon whispered, dragging her nails up her back as she begged. Ceara took her gently into her mouth, suckling as she slid inside her. Moving faster now but still slow enough to draw it out. Releasing her from her mouth she dragged her tongue over her, suckled, released. Shannon's fingers tangled in her hair, pulling hard as she came. She closed hard around Ceara's finger, keeping her locked inside her as she shook, tears running down her cheeks as she laughed and cried at the same time. Ceara climbed up beside her, holding her gently as Shannon settled into her. “You alright?” she asked softly, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks. Shannon nodded, sighed contently. Shannon nodded, kissing her gently. “No ones ever made me...” She broke off feeling foolish and looked away. “Made you what?” Ceara studied her quietly. “I've never cum like that.” “You've never cum at all, have ya now?” Ceara asked gently. “Trent tried...he really did. He was my only lover but he was horrible at it.” she smiled sheepishly. “Ceara?” “Yes?” “Let's play a game ok?” “What's that?” she studied her, her cheeks all rosy from being made love to and her hair tangled around her face. “I'm going to touch you and you have to keep your hands
by your sides.” Ceara laughed, shaking her head. “Now that doesn't seem fair.” “If you touch me, I'll stop.” Shannon smiled teasingly. “Ok, you're on. I won't touch you.” Shannon smiled as Ceara conceded. She began to explore her slowly. It only took a few moments before Ceara caught her own breath and damned the game. She touched her. Flipping her over and lowering herself on top of her again. Her hunger had never been so huge, so insatiable but Shannon churned things inside her she didn't know where still alive. *~*~*~*~* “We should try to get some work done.” Shannon focused on her oatmeal to keep herself from blushing. “I was going to take a walk.” Ceara finished her own breakfast and stood to put the bowl in the sink. “You can come with me, if you like.” She offered and smiled at her over everyones heads. Shannon's cheeks immediately began to flush. She had spent the night in Ceara's room. It had been a night of firsts. Her favorite being that she had made Ceara cum just as hard as she had, more than once. She had never known love making could be so much fun, so much laughter and sharing. “That sounds alright.” Shannon stood slowly, her muscles were a bit sore. She hoped no one noticed as she left the room. Ceara followed her to the coat rack where she kissed her softly, making Shannon look around quickly. “They could see us.” She whispered. Ceara nodded and smiled. “I know.” she pulled on her coat and opened the front door. Shannon followed her outside and pulled the door closed behind her. “You're walking a bit funny.” Ceara teased and laughed softly.
“No complaints.” Shannon looked over at her and wished they could go back to bed. Once they were out of sight from the house, Ceara took her hand in her own and held it. “Shannon, people may find out about us.” she watched her, their walking slowed. Shannon blew out a long breath and nodded. “I know.” she said softly and stopped walking all together. She pulled Ceara towards her. “Kiss me like you did last night.” she dared her softly. It was all the invitation needed. Ceara stepped into the circle of her arms and tipped her head up. Lowering her lips to hers she deepened the kiss gradually until they were both lost in it. Tongue tangled with tongue as hearts hammered within their chests. “I want you.” Shannon whispered, running her fingers over the zipper of her pants. She groaned and stepped back regretfully. “Let's see the house.” She said softly, stepping into the woods with Shannon at her side. “Then I have to finish some pieces.” she said it apologetically. They walked silently hand in hand for a while. As they rounded the bend near the clearing Shannon pulled her to a stop and backed her against a tree. She pressed her body into Ceara's and kissed her gently at first. The fire spread through her belly in a way she had never felt before Ceara and she once again ran her fingers gently over her zipper. Ceara pushed her gently backwards and held her at arms length, studying her eyes for a long moment. “You will be the death of me” she huffed out a breath and took Shannon's hand in her own. They stepped into the clearing and took in the finished house. “My Da says the inside is incredible. Would you like to see it?” Something dangerous danced in her eyes, something hot danced in her stomach. Shannon nodded her head and followed her inside. Once the door was closed behind them
they hung their jackets on a beg near the door and kicked off their shoes. “No need dirtying up the place.” Ceara had smiled and stepped into the first room from the foyer. Together they took in the living room. The entire east wall was a bank of windows that would draw in the sunlight and spread warmth through out the room. The floor was wide planked wood boards that looked as wonderful and natural as the rest of the house. It looked like the tree's had come together and built themselves a place to live. “This place is incredible” Shannon said as Ceara lead her into the kitchen. New appliances gleamed, windows shined from having been scrubbed clean and the same wide planked floor followed them from room to room. “I love the floor.” Ceara squatted and ran her hand lovingly over it. “Little Bram still doesn't know about this place?” Ceara shook her head in answer and smiled. “We are going to give it to them on their wedding night. Some of the guys are still working on small details.” She looked around wistfully. She paused at the kitchen counter and ran her hand over it lovingly. “I picked these out.” she told Shannon and smiled. “I used to dream my Da would build a place like this for me.” She shook her head slowly, shaking off the old familiar ache. “Why wouldn't he?” Shannon came to a stop beside her, resting her hand gently over Ceara's. Ceara looked down at their joined hands and sighed. “That could have something to do with it.” She sounded so sad that Shannon ached for her. She turned her around slowly and backed her up against the counter. Kissing her gently, trying to ease her ache. This plan backfired however when Ceara took control of the kiss taking it miles deeper into the fire, singing them both. She turned Shannon around till her own hips knocked against the counter and leaned
into her. Shannon hooked her fingers in her waist band and pulled her closer as Ceara lifted her onto the counter top and stepped neatly between her thighs. Shannon let out a soft moan as Ceara explored her mouth and touched her breasts through the rough material of her shirt. Shannon moaned as she began to run kisses up her throat, hips arching forward, driving Ceara wild. “If we don't stop.” She panted. “I'm going to take you right here.” Shannon looked around and smiled teasingly. “I don't see any reasons why you couldn't take me here.” she mimicked the way Ceara had just said it, smoky and desperate. Ceara's touched slowed, her eyes came to Shannon's face and something inside her trembled. Startled, she stepped back, cleared her throat. “Someone could come in.” her eyes darted to the windows, then the door. She was clearly spooked by the idea. Shannon sighed and climbed down off the counter. “We have some pieces to work on.” There was several that still needed to be finished and the pick up date was looming close by. “It's ok.” Ceara told her hurriedly. “My hands are feeling much better.” Understanding flashed in Shannon's mind quickly followed by hurt. She didn't need her anymore. Nodding, she walked to the door and started back out through the clearing while Ceara stood helplessly watching her. Mentally, she kicked herself. Shannon had done nothing to deserve such an abrupt and cold ending to a very hot moment. A moment they had both been a part of, she reminded herself. Shannon was out of sight now and Ceara rushed out the door to catch up to her. She ran through the clearing into the woods searching for her. When she didn't see her, she scratched her head and turned a full circle. She couldn't have made it past here so fast. She walked quickly back towards the house, looking for her the whole way.
Damn her. If Ceara didn't need her, didn't want her...it hurt. One night, had that been enough for her? It hadn't nearly been enough for Shannon but then, she was used to people casting her aside. That knife turned in her heart causing her to walk faster and further away from the house. It had been a stroke of luck when Osef had driven down the winding road and came to her rescue. Osef had eyed her suspiciously but kept the conversation light and pointless. “Are you hungry?” he asked as he drove towards town. She shook her head in answer and continued to stare out the window. “Have you ever cast a woman aside Osef?” He thought for a long moment then shook his head no, wondering what had happened but he didn't question, just watched her for a long moment before pulling into his own drive way. Shannon looked up and understood he was offering her a place to hide from herself for a while. “Women cast me aside Shannon, I've never had the chance.” he offered with a slow, sad smile and watched the pain in her eyes ebb around her iris and wished it would recede. He didn't ask but he knew Ceara was behind that pain and he cursed her silently. Climbing from the truck he walked to his front door and through it open. The dog came clambering out and Osef smiled widely at it even as it almost knocked him over. Shannon stood watching them and ached more. Would she ever have a home? Would anyone ever be so happy to see her when she opened the door? Tears threatened and suddenly she wished she was at home. Not the the house she had been living in the past few months but the one she left behind in New York. “I think it's time for me to go home.” she said softly and Osef paused, understanding immediately what she meant. “Are you sure that is what you want?” He watched her for a long moment, seeing it all in her eyes before she spoke. “She's the only person I have ever been so in love with.”
the tears came now, Osef moved and pulled her into his arms. “She doesn't want me.” Shannon sobbed against his chest. Osef shook his head, sure he was mistaken. He knew his friend was just as in love with Shannon. He also knew what a risk it was for her because her Da would never understand. Osef knew that he knew about the model in New York but he never spoke of it. Unable to defend Ceara he sighed helplessly. “What would you like to me do love?” he asked her softly. “I want to pick up my things. I really think it is time to go home.” Sadly, he held her at arms length for a moment and wished he had answers for her. She went inside and used his phone to book her flight. It wasn't till late that afternoon, she didn't feel that was nearly soon enough. They went back to Ceara's house where when then entered, they heard her music from the back room and Shannon knew she would be finishing the last three pieces. She ran quickly upstairs and packed the few things she had back into her duffel bag and took one last long sad look around the room. All she had wanted was to get away from the failed relationship she was in back home. That is why she had run here. Now she found herself packing up to run away from the same situation. Something inside her broke as tears streamed down her cheeks silently as she made her way back outside. Some people just weren't good enough for love. Perhaps, she was one of them. *~*~*~*~* She stood looking down at one of the first pieces Shannon had made and ached. She hadn't seen her since early that day. As the sun began to set something in her turned cold. Something wasn't right. She ran upstairs to see if Shannon had come in while she had been working and found her
room was void of any of her items; her closet was empty. She dropped down onto the bed and stared at the floor till long after the sun had set. She knew before anyone told her that Shannon had caught the first flight she could out of her life. Out of her country. And that thing that had turned coldly inside her broke open and flooded her with so much feeling she thought she would drown in it. It wasn't cold anymore, it was overwhelming and it was too late. *~*~*~*~* She stared into her cup of black coffee and didn't speak at all, didn't eat a bite during breakfast. Her brother his wife exchanged knowing glances; Anna continued to feed Brennon as much as she could get into his mouth while his tiny arms and legs flailed around him. Usually Shannon would have laughed a blue streak over the babies antics, today she sat silent and broken. “You should try to get her to talk.” Anna had whispered to Dole on her way out of the kitchen to bathe the food encrusted child. He had nodded and refilled his own mug before sitting back down across from her. She had shown up a week before looking wildly heart broken and acting as if everything was fine. It wasn't that he minded her crashing in their guest room for a while...but that quest room was about to become a second nursery and well, he hated seeing her so broken. “How was Ireland?” he asked quietly and saw the sparks of pain fragment in her eyes as they slid to his own. “Ireland is beautiful.” she offered sadly and sipped her now chilled coffee with a grimace. “Then why the long face?” She stood up and dumped her coffee down the sink and started to make a hasty retreat. “Shan” he called after her. “You've always been able to talk to me.”
She paused for a moment, turning to face him for one long moment. “I'm not ready yet.” she offered in answer and disappeared for the day. *~*~*~*~* “Ceara, the driver is here to pick up the crates.” Bram Senior stood in the door way and watched his daughter pretend to be alright for the eighth day in a row. He even pretended that he didn't know it had to do with Shannon's sudden departure. “When will the show be then?” he asked her as she finished writing up a shipping slip for the outside of the crate. “My agent will set it up and then fly me to where ever. Usually a month or so.” He nodded at her and watched as the pick up team came in to take away her work. He watched her eyes fall as a song she usually sang came on the radio. He turned away as her tears began to fall. He couldn't stand what a broken heart was doing to his daughter. He pretended to be blind but even a blind man could see how those two had looked at each other. When he had come upon them by accident out at the house the last morning Shannon was here, he had backed up slowly, making sure they didn't see him. He had seen the look in his own daughters eyes as she had given her heart in her kiss to Shannon. He wished her all the happiness in the world. Then he had turned and walked away, going to see to his cows before anyone saw him there. *~*~*~*~* In the front seat of Dole's car the song lyrics ripped through her.
I whisper in your ear the words you want to hear. You feel the wind and it reminds you. It happens every time. She would not think of her. You stop and close your eyes. You can't deny what lives inside you. Well I know it's hard to see what is meant to be when yesterday is far behind you. “Damn it.” she said softly and pressed her head up against the glass of the window next to her head. Deep inside your soul knows I'll always there. Get out, she thought inside her head. Wanted to scream it. You made me believe the day you surrender to me The memory will never die The love you gave me I'll never throw it away The memory will never die. Time heals all wounds doesn't it? Shannon prayed the song would end. Her heart raced forward, aching in her chest. The tides take a turn Another lesson learned I'm right here but still you wonder What if she had stayed? Fought for the way she felt for her? Made her accept that she was in love with her? But how? She couldn't even make herself tell her how she felt. Whenever you wake up
Whenever you gave up All that you had for nothing at all The bed that you lay in. Remember you made it And nobody's there to catch you when you fall. She picked up the case for the cd Dole had left in when he ran into the bank and read the song title and artist. Default, the memory will never die. “Fuck you Default.” she murmured to herself sadly. “The dream is already dead.” She didn't meet his eyes when he got back into the car and he didn't comment when he found his cd snapped in two on the sidewalk outside his car. He had thought about it once he was inside and had realized this would probably happen. He mentally thanked Anna for having him burn his cds in triplicate. He didn't question her silence and she didn't offer any answers. He knew someone somewhere had broken her heart. He just wished the pain would fade from her eyes, he hated seeing it there. *~*~*~*~* After another month of crashing in their guest room, Shannon decided it was time to get back out on her own. It had been 37 days since she had seen Ceara and the pain was starting to dull. It was still there, it just didn't stab so hard anymore. She began to look for apartments near Dole's part of the city. Rents where too high and she was a little to unemployed to afford them. So she lowered her expectations and looked else where. She found a charming little run down hell whole near SoHo that caused her to cringe as she walked from room to room. She was certain
that tribes of roaches met here to discuss the fate of the world. She had smiled falsely at the manager and said she would get back to him. She had ran back to Dole's and showered for 45 minutes to remove the film she was certain, was on her skin. The next apartment promised to be a sunny unit that was 'fully furnished'. Little did she know the 'sun' was from the fluorescent light bulbs in the hallway because there were no windows that looked outside; the windows faced the inner hallway and without good curtains, everyone could see into your place. She passed on it quickly and noted that fully furnished, meant a sagging mattress and nicotine stains on the wall. The next apartment was in a questionable area but the rent was controlled and it's ad, though vague, had sounded slightly promising. She was happy to find it had stark white walls, no furniture, no roaches and no dirty feeling of scum settling over her skin. The down sides were it was a four story walk up, this apartment in particular was on the fourth floor, it was in a bad neighborhood and her neighbors and though her new neighbors looked nice, they were both fluent in italian and liked to yell it at each other at the top of her lungs. The landlord said they were 'passionate' that's all. Shannon also found out about three weeks after she moved in that they were just as 'passionate' about making up. She hadn't spoken to Dole in several days and she was missing him. Her phone had just been turned on and she had no one left here to call, other than him. She thought about calling Osef to see how things were. But the thought caused her heart to ache and she decided against it immediately. Instead she turned her attention to her guitar and tried to pick out a new song. Tomorrow she would have to look for work. The only good news she had gotten since coming home was that her divorce was final. At least that was on step in the right direction. She wished she could get out from under the heaviness of her heart. Missing Ceara
was taking up far too much of her time and she wanted to forget her and move on. The memory will never die. “Damn that song!” then to the sound of her neighbors making up again, she put her guitar away and decided to spend some time outside on her fire escape. She climbed out the window and sat down, hugging her knee's to her chest she stared off over the hills and cried quietly. She wondered if any place would ever feel as close to home as her arms had. *~*~*~*~* “Ceara” her father spoke to her softly, away from the rest of the family. “It is your brothers wedding, please try to look happy for him.” “Da.” Ceara said softly, trying to hide her pain, trying to pretend she hadn't counted the minutes since Shannon had gone away. “I don't have to pretend, I am very happy for Bram.” she reassured him and turned to walk away. His massive hands plucked two glasses of champagne off a passing tray and followed her. When she came to a stop outside the reception hall, looking off over the mountains that surrounded it, he saw her pain glimmer. Passing her the glass, he raised his own. “Ceara I know.” He said softly. She didn't turn, didn't dare move. “If you love that girl...” he broke off, watching her shoulders slump, hearing the sob. “She left Da. Nothing more needs to be said.” She raised her glass and chugged, putting it down empty next to her
hand. He frowned, sipped his own. Tossing a look over his shoulder his smiled as Osef turned Sally around on the dance floor. Their romance was the talk of the town and almost as sweet as he remembered his and Rose's being. “I saw the two of you together in little Bram's cabin.” When her eyes came too quickly to his face and her skin flushed, he laughed softly. “Not to fear my dove, I took off when I saw the way you looked at her. I wanted to bust in there at first and yell, because I didn't understand.” He said honestly. Meeting her eyes. “Then what stopped you?” she asked softly, for the first time in her life not denying it. “The way you looked at her. I used to look at your Mum that way.” he smiled at the memory. “I don't even know where she went.” she sighed mournfully. “Have you tried looking yet?” “Of course. I have my agent trying to track her down. I found her brother, Dole. I don't dare ask him though.” she turned and hugged her father tightly. “Ceara” He said softly into her hair. “Yes, Da?” “If you love her, truly love her. Don't let her slip away.” She stepped back and looked up into his eyes. Nodding, she smiled for the first time in weeks. “When do you leave for New York?” He asked her with a slow smile. “My show is another two weeks away.” then understanding she smiled and nodded her head again. “By the end of the week.” “Good.” he nodded and lead her back inside to the party. “Tonight we dance.” he lead her onto the dance floor and for once Ceara allowed herself to have fun, wishing Shannon was there to dance with her.
*~*~*~*~* Her new job, in a word, sucked. “Welcome to the Sausage barn.” she tried to smile but it looked false. She lead the two men to their table and assumed the giggling was because of the name of the place. There was sawdust and peanut shells on the floor, bad food, bad costumes and horrible service. It was just the type of place gay men liked to go to say they could get a shirt that read 'I ate at the Sausage farm.' It was supposed to be innocent but on several occasions Shannon had experienced people eating sausages that weren't on the menu. For the life of her she could not figure out why she had not quit yet. Yet she figured out why every time she balanced her check book. Her checking account was alarmingly low and her cupboards were close to bear. She understood suddenly the old Mother Hubbard nursery rhyme with annoyance. She sighed as the door opened once again and stood up. “Welcome to the Sausage...” was all she got out when she looked up and fumbled. “Dole.” she shook her head and her skin flushed. “Shannon...” he took her arm and lead her outside to talk to her privately. “You're degrading yourself.” he struggled to keep his voice low. “I need the money.” “I could have lent you money.” he whispered harshly. “I don't want your money. I will make my own.” “Fine.” He bit off and started to walk away. “At least take that ridiculous sausage off your damn head.” “I have to wear it for work. Please don't make a scene.” “You're standing here with a sausage on your head and you're telling me not to make a scene? Quit this ridiculous job Shan and come back to my place, please.” Shannon shakes her head slowly.
“I can't do that Dole. You are having another baby and you don't have the room. It's ok, really.” Dole stands before her, shaking his head slowly. “You can do so much better than this.” his expression is mournful. “I know but for the moment I just want to be.” “Why don't you just call her?” “Call who?” Shannon meets his eyes, holding his gaze. “It doesn't matter to me who you love Shannon....why are you doing this to yourself?” Shannon didn't bother to answer him, instead she turned to the next couple in line and welcomed them to the sausage barn. Defeated Dole left but his heart ached for her. *~*~*~*~* She hated flying and now as she looked at the window and saw Ireland fading below her she remembered why again. Nausea threatened and she squeezed her eyes closed. She had wondered about Shannon's where abouts constantly over the last month. She had tried to discount the hurt she felt but no matter how she tried it left a bitter taste in her mouth and her heart feeling soured. She had watched her little brother get married and wished the pain in her heart would dull. She had watched Osef and Sally as they danced around the dance floor in each others arms and into one another's hearts. They were so sweet together, all of them. “Lucky bastards” she murmured to herself, drawing a curious look from the man in the seat next to her. “You say something?” he asked, trying for idle conversation. She shook her head in answer and refocused on the clouds outside the window. She couldn't wait to land. Sleep wasn't forthcoming and drinking wasn't the answer but she ordered scotch after scotch until her head began to swim. Her nausea grew and grew until finally she passed out and threw up all over herself and the annoying bastard
beside her. She was so embarrassed that she offered to pay for his dry cleaning, he refused and stated that he knew what a broken heart looked like and she decided he could go fuck himself and got pissed when they refused her another drink. Finally she passed back out and landed still drunk and angry, miserable and alone. Where the fuck was Dryfus? She had screamed this in the face of a flight attendant who had expertly ignored her hate. Dryfus had finally turned up and whisked her off, what a sight she was. *~*~*~*~* The day was gray and for once Shannon agreed with the weather. She felt just as gray and dismal inside as the down cast sky outside. She looked down at the flier that had been stuck to the Sausage barn's front door. She held her breath for a long moment and tried to steady her pounding heart. Ceara was coming to New York. Would she go see her? No. She shook her head at her own thought. That wound was still too fresh. To fill the hours she wasn't working she watched a tv with bunny ears that had horrible reception and three channels. She kept the tv on for the noise as she sat a long table against the one wall of her two rooms. The room was sparsely furnished the table she sat at and the stool she sat on were her two major pieces of furniture. She had a folding lawn chair she had found outside that someone had been throwing away and a futon mattress she got cheap cause there was no frame and she had to use that on the floor. She didn't mind being poor, it was a feeling after years of being a musician that she was used to. She was beyond the crying and tantrums that most starving artists would pitch. She was comfortable in her limited surroundings and currently immersed in a glass catcher she had been working on every spare minute of the last two weeks. She had hand drawn the original design while seated at the front podium at work. It had been an unusually
slow day and she had drawn to keep herself from being bored out of her mind. Once the design had been started it seemed to come to life and as she adjusted her stain color now, she held her breath and applied another coat slowly. In between glass pieces her eyes would flick to the flier and hold for a moment. She was trying so hard not to think of her. In another two weeks she would be here just a mile or two away. The thought made her ache. She wished that she had the means to get away for a week or two, maybe then she could clear her head and find some way to get past her and all these left over feelings she held for her. She rolled her neck slowly, trying to loosen up the tension in her muscles from hours of working at this table hunched over. As she placed the pieces together she worked in complete concentration, ignoring the Spanish game show on her tv. She tried to see what it would look like finished and frowned. Maybe she should go see her. Maybe she should go away for a few days. She hated feeling torn but right now she couldn't seem to get past it. Finally she turned off the light and the tv. Day had faded into dusk and dusk into a slippery black starless night. She crawled out on the fire escape and shivered. The temperature had plummeted in the hours since the sun had set. She stayed where she was until long after the cold had caused her arms to go numb. She prayed if she stayed out here long enough it would numb her heart as well. She snickered at the thought and shook her head. Wishing she had some place to go, she finally stood up and forced herself back inside. Pulling on ancient nylon jobbing pants and a hooded sweat shirt she shoved her feet into her running shoes and picked up her keys. Maybe a walk would clear her mind before bed. Ass he ran down the stairs and out onto the street she was met by the first falling snowflakes of the season. Her heart plummeted in her chest as she thought, painfully, of the last time she had seen the snow fall. In her mind, as she stood frozen on a New York street, she was transported so very far away.
She could see her eyes, there exact size, shape and color and her breath caught in her chest. Her lips formed next, looming in the air before her face, smiling at her, then growing cold with anger. The last thing she saw before they disappeared was the way those lips curved when they turned up playfully in desire. She wanted her, she missed her, she needed her, she hated her. It was this endless cycle of emotion that she had begun to hate. Miss, long, love, hate, miss, long, burn, loath. When would it end? She didn't hate her. No matter how many times she told herself she did, she didn't. She wanted to run towards her, to find her and hold her but she couldn't. It had been Ceara who turned her away, Ceara who didn't want her. She would not make a fool of herself again over someone not wanting her, no matter how much it hurt. She shook her snow covered head and turned on her heel, slamming the door behind her she ran back up the stairs into her apartment and left the lights off. She kicked off her shoes in the dark, tossed her wet sweatshirt on the top of the stool and flung herself down on the futon. She lay in the dark for hours, hungry for the love of a woman she never wanted to want to begin with. *~*~*~*~* She slept for part of the flight and was happy when she woke up just as they touched down. The guy beside her had horrible breath and had been drinking free alcoholic beverages the entire flight. Before she had passed out he had been telling her his life story. She realized now that falling asleep had probably saved her life. Had she had to listen to another word she probably would have opened the door of the plane and let herself be sucked out. She laughed lightly at the thought and stood up. Her sense of humor was unusually morbid lately and it was starting to worry her. Things had been great she thought, going so well. She had never lost herself in someone the way she had with...damn
it. She wasn't going to think about her. Then why the hell am I in New York? She asked herself as she waited for her bag to come out into the claim area. How hard would it be to find her? Would she even agree to see her? Had she seen the fliers she knew her agent was having plastered all over the city? It had been ingenious to name the show Nonnah's Hands. She hoped Shannon would see the significance in naming it that, if in fact she saw it at all. Now that she was back in New York she would have to be fitted for fashionably correct clothing and switch back into the sophisticated sexier version of herself. She felt so different when she was Ceara Llieno, like she was special. Again she wondered if she should share the profits of this show with Shannon. She had done just as many pieces as Ceara had herself. She picked up her bag and moved out of the claim area. Her room was booked, her car would be waiting and she felt completely empty. She wished she had known it was only going to take 28 pieces of art to change her life. Somewhere in those 28 pieces she had fallen in love and lost part of herself. Now if only she could find Shannon to get those pieces back. If only she could find Shannon...she thought again, her heart aching. Her cell phone rang as she handed her bag off to her driver. Pausing with her hand on the door she checked the incoming phone number and then answered it with a smile. Dryfus Coop had been her manager for the last five years. He had sold her very first piece of art and he swore he'd be there to sell her last one as well. He was a tall fellow at six feet even. He had a swimmers build with wide, powerful shoulders and an angular face that was anything but ordinary. He often joked that he could have been a model but he'd chosen to make her dreams come true instead. She was glad he had. Now as she climbed into the back seat of the car and listened to him croon to her in his native tongue of dirty French, as he called it, she smiled in spite of herself. She leaned back into the seat, crossed her legs and
laughed a full, rich smile. After 4 minutes he had talked into an interview with the New Yorker, dinner tonight and brunch the next day with some people he'd like her to meet. She wasn't supposed to be here for another two weeks she reminded him. “You came early.” He reminded her. “Laissez-nous partie” he said and she had laughed and shook her head to herself. He was right, maybe, just maybe she needed to have some fun. The car moved slowly through the evening traffic and she hung up the phone and settled back into the seat. Her back ached and her mind was confused by the time change. She wanted to go home and put her life back in the order it belonged in. The car struggled to find a way across town and once it found her hotel she climbed from the back and stretched. The driver took her back to the desk and checked her in while she went to the bar to find Dryfus. He smiled at her when she came in and stood up. He held his arms out to her and held her close when she came to a stop in front of him. Kissing both cheeks loudly he laughed and motioned for her to sit down. She was happy suddenly that she had agreed to have dinner with him. He motioned for another drink, then held up his fingers for two when she stole what was left of his. “You always drink such girly drinks” she teased and replaced his empty glass on its coaster. “Darling, one of us has to be girlie.” he smiled in answer and thanked the waitress. Ceara smiled and picked up the menu. “No no.” Dryfus shook his head. “We are not eating here.” Confused she studied him for a long moment. “Why not?” “Sven found the most ridiculous place. Obscure...but more than that.” He laughed. “Is the ridiculous way they make their crew members dress.”
She put the menu down and nodded. “Ok” she said. “I haven't eaten in hours though. Can we go?” *~*~*~*~* Doug Parker was a slacker and a dick. He was also Shannon's boss at the Sausage barn. Whenever Doug's 'friend' Cliff didn't want to work, was too drunk to work or decided to give Cliff head in his office, Cliff didn't have to work. But Shannon did. She had been at home working peacefully on her project when the phone had rang. She had considered letting it go but the rent was coming due and she was still 58$ short. This shift would help her get the rest of the money in tips, she hoped. She changed into her work clothes and tucked the ugly sausage hat into her bag. She had applied a few other places and put out word she was looking for a new band. That part of it shouldn't be so hard, she had had a fairly decent following, locally, before she had disappeared. Dole had left her four messages today, she hadn't returned his calls either. She just didn't want to talk to him or anyone for that matter right now. She still felt stupid over his having seen her in her ridiculous work hat. She could have taken his money but with his wife and child depending on him, it just didn't feel right. She hadn't gotten too far in her walk earlier in the day. There had been a fight between a local drug dealer and a junky that had ended when the junky had stabbed the dealer with a dirty needle. The dealer had freaked out and beaten the crap out of the junky, resulting in a lot of police traffic on the block. Such things made Shannon nervous, since she did not like violence and she had quickly returned home. Now she made her way outside and up the block. She lived three blocks away from work and walked it quickly now. She punched in and pulled her hat on then stopped to talk to the cook. Three girls had called out of work with the flu
and now it seemed that Cliff wanted to work tonight. Annoyed, she decided to let Cliff keep the podium with out arguing with him, she'd make more as a waitress for the evening anyway. She filled her water pitcher with ice and water from the dispenser in the back. Chatting idly with one of the other waitresses as they filled their apron pockets with straws, pens, pencils and order forms. Shannon slipped two boxes of crayons into her own apron and picked up her water pitcher. She sometimes liked to give the children of their patrons something to do while they waited to eat. She had gotten in trouble once last week when one child had used his crayons to color on the wall instead of on his lunch mat. It had taken her an hour after they had closed but she had stayed and spent the time it took to scrub that wall clean all the while happy that the child had been entertained at least. She smiled at tonights cook, Sven a short man who spoke broken English and made a mean sausage. He nodded in answer and turned back to his grill without a word. She made her way out of the kitchen and began filling water glasses on the table that had just been seated. She smiled at the couples twins and handed them each a box of her precious crayons and made them both promise solemnly that they would only color on the mat's. She took their order, smiling brightly and writing clearly. She hated when people got her order wrong and went the extra mile to make sure that wouldn't happen at any of her tables. She had three other tables to check on and left the first table to watch their children color while Sven worked on their order. The next table held three gay men, two of which where more interested in each other than their menu's and one who looked desperately bored and terribly out of place. Shannon felt vaguely sorry for him as she took their orders and listened to the two with bedroom eyes making sexual comments about their sausages. Their friend seemed to squirm in answer. The next table held an older woman and her hard of hearing
husband to which she repeated everything in triplicate. Each time she told him something, she told him louder until everyone in the restaurant heard her but him. In answer he would tap his hearing hard with the tip of his elderly finger and complain about his batteries. It took a while but Shannon got their order and reassured the woman that she didn't mind the 11 and a half extra minutes they made her stand there, she hadn't been counting at all. She deposited both orders at the same time and stopped to refill her water pitcher once again in the kitchen on her way to the last table. There in the far back corner sat a man and a woman. Distracted, Shannon walked up and filled their water glasses, then putting the pitcher down she pulled the small pad from the front pocket of her apron. She stood poised to take their order and watched as one of the children at the first table got dangerously close to spilling his chocolate milk on the floor. She excused herself for a moment and rushed over to move the child's cup. His mother thanked her and the other boy asked for a new mat to color on, since his other once was already all filled up. Before she could answer, Sven signaled order up and she smiled brightly. “You're dinner is ready” she announced and went to get it. After she made sure they were set she went back to her last table and smiled warmly at the gentleman sitting there. He told her that his dinner date was in the rest room so he would have to wait on his order. She smiled politely and went to deliver table two and three's dinner. Ten minutes later she returned to find the gentleman still alone and frowning. “I don't know what's taking her so long” he apologized. Shannon smiled and told him to take his time. She dealt with two more tables of people before returning to that last table again to find it empty. Shrugging, she finished out the rest of the night and made twice what she needed in tips. What would she do with the extra 60$? Buy art supplies, she knew it.
They closed up promptly at 10pm and the last three workers had to clean up shop. Sven handled his kitchen and that was the way he liked it. Shannon and a new waitress she didn't know yet cleaned up the dining area and restocked the silverware and glasses for the morning crew. Shannon double checked the condiments and paused for a moment, feeling eerily like she was being watched. She shook it off and finished adding ketchup to a pump tank. She bid good night to her coworkers and stepped outside into the cold wind and rain that was plaguing New York tonight. She wished for a moment she had remembered her umbrella but quickly dismissed the thought as the cab she tried to hail splashed her with dirty icy water as it sped by. She hated walking through her neighborhood at night and hesitated a moment while trying to decide what to do. After a long moment in the freezing rain she decided just to walk home. It was raining after all and most of the thugs should be at home out of the rain or so she told herself. She turned and faced down the road towards her house, the rain soaked her hair and ran down her face as it fell over her. Turning back towards the doors of the Sausage barn, her heart dropped when she saw the lights inside were already off and everyone was gone. Her stomach pitched in warning, telling her just to find a phone nearby and call for a taxi but her need to get home now, out of the cold rain, prevailed. She turned away from the doors of the restaurant and started to walk towards home. The first block went by without anyone else passing her on the street, as she had presumed the rain was keeping everyone inside. It wasn't till she turned onto the next block, the one between work and home, that she wished she had called that cab after all. Three men stood in a door way smoking marijuana cigarettes and eying her steadily as she came closer. She crossed the street to put distance between them and sent the group into fits of laughter. “What's the matter sweetheart, never seen a real man
before?” one of them called after her. She hunched her shoulders and pressed on, wanting nothing more than to get home to put on dry clothes. The men across the street continued with their comments and cat calls until she reached the corner at the other end of the street. She turned the corner to her house and picked up her pace, almost home. She sighed happily as she came to a stop in front of the heavy metal security door that marked her entrance. She paused and slid her key into the slot and smiled happily to herself as she began to shove the door open. “Give me your purse.” She hadn't heard the man come up behind her and had known better than to go against the feeling in the put of her stomach. Turning slowly, she held on to the strap of her bag tightly and tried to smile at the man dressed in black who held a knife at her throat. Swallowing hard, she struggled to find her voice. “I need some of the cash for rent” she fought to keep her voice steady. “You think I give a fuck what you need?” The man stepped forward and the foul smell of his breath stung her eyes, her stomach rolled. “No. I don't think you care what I need at all. You obviously need this money just as badly as I do.” she paused, looking up and down the street for help. Seeing no one, she licked the rain from her lips nervously and drew in a slow breath. He stepped closer, pressing the tip of the knife into her neck. It was then that she noticed his hand was unsteady. He was just as scared as her. “Why do you need the money?” her eyes darted up and down the street again. Surely if they were here much longer, someone would help her. She watched the fire dance in his eyes as anger heated the strength behind the blade pushing into her skin. He seemed to ponder her question for a moment. His own eyes darted
up and down the street now, nervously. “Look.” he said, his voice lower. “I just need it.” “Tell me why.” she demanded, refusing to give in without a fight. “Diapers.” The word was a growl, anger and what looked like failure, stained his skin. “You have a baby.” Shannon smiled now, the pressure on the knife eased slightly. “A little boy.” Pride, clear and strong came through now. “I can buy you a bag of diapers.” Shannon spoke softly, kindly. The knife lowered an inch, then two. “You'd do that for me?” “Why not?” “I tried to rob you.” The knife fell away completely now. He stepped back, sadness moved into his eyes. “A mistake, I am sure.” Shannon began to walk with him to the end of the block where a small family run drug store stayed open twenty four hours. “How old is your baby?” she watched his shoulders relax now, the knife slid into his pocket, out of view and his face beamed with pride as he smiled. “6 days.” he paused at the door of the pharmacy. “You gonna call the cops?” fear danced across his features before he hid it away behind his eyes. “No.” Shannon said softly and pulled open the door. Side by side they walked in and down the diaper aisle. “I appreciate this.” he said as she picked up the bag of newborn diapers and handed them to him. “In the future, I recommend asking instead of armed robbery.” she smiled and stepped to the register. “This is New York.” he said softly, looking away to make sure no one was looking at them. “And?” “And you don't belong here.” he accepted the bag she handed him.
“You are correct, Sir.” she stepped back out into the night beside him. He walked her back to the door where they had met. “Thanks for not robbing me.” She pushed the door open and stepped inside, holding the door open for a moment. “Thanks for the diapers.” With a nod he walked off into the night without looking back. Shannon shuttered and pushed the door closed in front of her. That could have gone so different she told herself and tried to shake it off as she made her way upstairs. She closed her own door behind her and started pulling off her wet clothes as soon as it clicked shut. The hit the button on the answering machine on her way past it and froze when she heard her voice. “Shannon...” she paused. “Shannon it's Ceara. I know you know I am coming to New York because I spoke with Dole. I hope you don't mind. Shannon....” The machine beeped and cut her off. “Shannon.” her voice came again. “There are so many things I need to say to you. Please Shannon...if you want to hear them...please ring me back at” The machine cut her off again. Shannon deleted the rest of the messages without listening to them and climbed into bed half naked with wet hair and pulled the blankets up to her chin. In her ears and dreams Ceara's voice echoed long into the night. *~*~*~*~* “No, I want that piece of there under that chandelier. No, no the red one goes over there next to the yellow one.” Ceara directed the placement of her pieces and would have much rather done it herself. She was a star now, Dryfus kept telling her this but it didn't matter to her. Art mattered and right now they were placing her art wrong. “Dryfus, for the love of Pete let me alone so I can set up
my show.” she barked at him and turned to watch the placement of her favorite piece done by Shannon. “That one is not for sale.” She decided suddenly and watched Dryfus's smooth but fake smile slide into place. “You can't do that.” He laughed falsely and tried to smooth her feathers. “I can and I will.” She directed the man holding the piece to have it repacked for shipment. “The agreement was 28 pieces.” he reminded her in no uncertain terms. “You will have to do with 27.” Ceara smiled brilliantly and directed the placement of another piece. “Why, what could possibly be so important about that one piece.” Dryfus asked in his condescending way that she hated. She decided to ignore him and stepped past him again. “I want that orange one with the red and yellow, going for fire here people.” Ceara turned on her heel with that and walked out of the showroom leaving Dryfus and the others to stare at her back as she went. Once she was away from them she stood in the window, pressing her forehead against the glass. It could have all been so simple, reach out to her, draw her near. She pushed her away. Why? She had asked herself this question more times than she cared to recount. She had messed up and it was costing her everything. Shannon had been lost, so far from home, so needy in her own way. She had never asked her for anything, never hinted at needing more, wanting more. Yet she had fallen for her anyway, how could she blame Shannon for that? Wasn't it her own hearts doing? She brushed away tears anxiously and checked her watch. She had to walk, had to get out of here. Outside the wind swirled and the rain fell but she didn't care. She flung upon the outside door and flipped up the color of her shirt, she had forgotten her coat in Dryfus's car and if she asked for it now he would throw a fit. She folded
her arms over her chest against the cold and walked into the wind until she was numb. She had to find a way to fix all of this. All of it. There had to be a way. She turned down another street walking blindly and not watching where she was going. Dole pulled her car over and called to her but she didn't hear him until he chased after her. The look in her eyes was broken and somewhat wild, concerned, he talked her into going for coffee with him. She didn't remember the ride or even talking to him. She just sat, dazed and falling to pieces across the table from him. He sipped his coffee and watched her intently. “How long have you been in love with her?” She looked up and met his eyes, then looked away. “I could tell you the exact moment that I realized I loved her but it would make no difference. She will have none of me.” Dole ran his finger around the rim of his cup and thought for a moment. “When I met my Anna she was this quiet librarian type that had never had a serious boyfriend. She was sexy, don't get me wrong, but she was shy. We dated for well over two months before she would even invite me into her place for coffee and then...we actually drank coffee. She was so serious.” He smiled at the memory. “Then one day she came around my studio and I was inside with one of my band mates at the time, who happened to be female” He paused, cleared his throat. “Her name was Nikita and she was a bad, bad girl.” He smiled again at the memory, this time with humor dancing in his eyes. “It turns out that Anna thought Nikita was sitting a little close to to me at the piano and holy shit did she turn into a wild animal. I thought for certain she was going to tear Nikita limb from limb. She probably would have if the other girl hadn't ran like a scared little bunny.” “The point of this story?” Ceara cut him off, impatiently.
“No real point, just a fun story.” He laughed at her scowl. “Come on” he reached out and patted the back of her hand. “I must have distracted you a little bit” She shrugged. “So” He smiled. “How long have you been in love with my sister?” This time she had to laugh, he was persistent. “Since the moment I realized she was the other half of everything I had been missing.” “It's like finding the air after drowning your whole life, isn't it?” He smiled at her. She nodded her head and sipped her coffee slowly, thinking. “How do I fix this?” “Same way everyone does.” He smiled at her. “How's that?” “You beg.” He laughed. “I've tried that. She won't pay me any mind.” “Then don't give her a choice.” He paused “Is my sister a lesbian?” “That is something you would have to ask her on your own.” “Did you sleep with her?” Now color crept up Ceara's cheeks and he smiled, slamming his hand loudly on the table. “I knew it!” he exclaimed and laughed again. “When she was a kid I would tease her...she never really had much use for us men. Now I see why.” Ceara frowned at him. “I never said she was a lesbian.” “She's in love with a woman.” He pointed out triumphantly. She shrugged in answer. “That doesn't mean a thing.” “You're wrong.” He told her smugly and smiled.. “Love means everything.” With that he flipped open his wallet and began showing her pictures of his family.
“Where can I find her when she's moping.” Ceara asked at long last. “Slim sound.” “What is that?” “Where my studio is, she often sits behind my piano and plays the most hauntingly beautiful things I've ever heard.” “How do I get there?” She asked, desperate. “I'll show you.” *~*~*~*~* “Are you sure you didn't see who left this?” Shannon questioned a third neighbor and pointed at the box on her landing. “Nope. Wasn't here.” They had all said. It held no label, no markings and had to have been hand delivered. Shannon sighed and swore under her breath. What had Dole done now she wondered and opened her door while pushing the box inside with her knee's and shins as she went. She tossed her keys on her table and grabbed a box cutter from her art desk. She tossed her jacket over the back of her most recent purchase, a futon with a frame. Concentrating on opening the box now, she crouched down and ran the blade under the flap to loosen the tape. She put the cutter down on the floor beside her and opened the flaps. Her heart stopped. Her eyes swam and her hands stopped. Not only was Ceara in New York but she knew where she was. Her heart hammered hard against her ribs. She ached to see her, to touch her. But if Ceara couldn't love her then she didn't want to see her. She didn't want to want her. Anger came in place of tears now. She shoved herself away from the box and closed the flaps back up. She pushed away from it and paced her living room angrily. “Who the hell is she to come here?” she asked herself out
loud. “Who the hell is she to call my home?” she said out loud again. No answer came. That was the problem, she had no answers. When the phone rang, she glared at it and decided not to answer it. When the ringing didn't stop, she walked over hastily and in her huff picked it up and turned it on then off quickly. “Fuck um” she said loudly and grabbed her coat. “Fuck um all.” She stormed out of her apartment and hailed a cab on the street. There was one place she wanted to go and one place only that would make her feel better. She gave the driver the address of slim sound and sat back and closed her eyes. Why wouldn't she just leave her alone? Was her rejection not good enough? When the cab stopped she paid the man hurriedly and used her key card to get into the building. She double checked the sign in sheet and saw that Dole had left over an hour ago, that meant time alone. She sighed and climbed into the elevator. Once the doors slid open to the studio she started to feel herself settling down. She walked to the piano and traced its glossy finish with the tip of her finger before settling down on the bench. She flexed her fingers and stroked the keys lightly at first, building into something wonderful. She closed her eyes and played and played, tears streamed down over her cheeks when the music turned sad, echoing how she felt inside. When the elevator doors slid open Ceara and Dole stood watching her for several long moments. Then Ceara reached out and pressed the door close button and they began to descend back to the ground floor. “Why are you leaving?” He called after her as she tore out of the elevator and back out onto the street, she didn't stop, she didn't answer and he had no choice but to let her go. He answered his cell phone on the second ring and frowned as he looked up towards the studio windows.
“Sure honey.” He said into the phone “I can get it on my way home” And as he hung up he had no choice but to let Ceara and Shannon find their own way. *~*~*~*~* “What do you mean you can't find her?” Dryfus spoke harshly into his phone as his assistant did his best to comfort him over having lost Ceara in the crowds on New York City. “FIND HER!” he yelled into his phone and slammed it shut. Artists, they were temperamental he knew but Ceara was acting completely irrational. She had stood in the center of the museum the night before, knee deep in the fountain and completely dazed. When asked why, she said she was trying to recapture a rain storm. Who did that? He rolled the tension in his shoulders and drew a slim cigarette from his pocket. He hadn't gotten to the top of the heap by losing his cool. He lighted his cigarette and drug on it deeply, exhaling with a sound of pure enjoyment he turned to face the view from his $45,000 a month loft. He took in the twinkle of the city lights and smiled when the door behind him opened and his love stepped in. The artists all thought he was a lover of men. When his wife stepped into the room he drew in his breath harshly and smiled. “There is my love.” She smiled and came across the room into his arms. He smiled into her hair and held her tight. “What is the problem you are having?” she asked him, her French accent so thick that most didn't understand her. “My artist has disappeared.” he rubbed the tension spot in between his eyes with the pad of his thumb. “No ideas?” she poured him two fingers of the brandy he loved and came across the room with the tumbler. “I have lot's of ideas.” He took the glass from her and drank deeply. “Well?”
“Well?” he answered, confused. “Where is the artist then?” she watched him thoughtfully. He smiled at her, knowing instantly where Ceara would be. “Hey Ty.” he said into his phone as his assistant picked up. “I know where she is.” he pressed a kiss to his wifes forehead and stood looking out of the twinkling lights of New York. “Find out where this Shannon lives. I bet you if you find her, then we will find her. Her last name?” He thought for a long moment, then snapping his fingers he remembered. “Connolly.” he snapped his phone shut with a strut and smiled at his wife. “How did you figure it out?” she asked and wove herself around him. “I remembered something she said to me once when I first found you my love.” “What was that?” She purred. “Always follow your heart.” *~*~*~*~* Ceara waited until the lights snapped on in her apartment. She waited till dusk rolled in, then the dark. She waited for her heart to steady, her hands to stop sweating, her stomach to settle. She waited. When the song came on the radio of her rental car her heart skipped a beat I whisper in your ear the words you want to hear. You feel the wind and it reminds you. It happens every time. She had heard this song before, the day Shannon had left her. You stop and close your eyes. You can't deny what lives
inside you. Well I know it's hard to see what is meant to be when yesterday is far behind you. “Damn it.” she said softly and pressed her head up against the glass of the window next to her head. Deep inside your soul knows I'll always there. Get out, she thought inside her head. Wanted to scream it. Yet she sat and watched the windows of her apartment like a love sick stalker. You made me believe the day you surrender to me The memory will never die The love you gave me I'll never throw it away The memory will never die. Time heals all wounds doesn't it? Her heart ached, this was one wound she didn't want to heal. The tides take a turn Another lesson learned I'm right here but still you wonder What if Shannon had stayed? Fought for the way she felt for her? Made her accept that she was in love with her? But how? She couldn't even make herself tell her how she felt. That was it wasn't it? She had yet to admit to herself that she needed her. That she did in fact and was in love with her. Whenever you wake up Whenever you gave up All that you had for nothing at all The bed that you lay in.
Remember you made it And nobody's there to catch you when you fall. How could she have been so blind? How could she not have known? The wind blew hard as she pushed open the door of the car and stepped out into the rain that seemed to be plaguing New York this week. She walked across the street and looked up at her windows. Just in time to see the lights turn off. She was too late, it would have to wait. “To hell with that.” she said out loud. “Shannon” she yelled up at her windows, no answer came. “Shannon, please” she desperately wanted her to come to the window, come outside, tell her to shut up, throw a television out the window at her, yell at her to go to hell, anything. Her windows stayed dark. “Shannon” she yelled again. “The love you gave me” “Hey lady shut up.” someone yelled. “I'll never throw it away.” “Come on, go away already. She don't wantcha” someone else yelled. Giving into her failure Ceara walked back to her car and climbed inside. Turned the key and drove away and as she turned the corner. Shannon stepped out from behind the curtain in her bedroom window, from where she had watched and listened to Ceara and whispered. “The memory will never die.” *~*~*~*~* She sat at the podium of the Sausage barn and looked at her life. Reflecting like this couldn't be good for her self esteem she told herself and blew out a slow, sad breath. She sat people as they came in but her laugher was absent. She knew it was just hours until Ceara's show and she knew she
wasn't going to go. She had promised herself that she would move, forget and learn to live without her. It wasn't as easy as she had told herself it would be. It wasn't easy at all. Ceara had left her three more messages on her machine during the night. She had laid awake listening to her voice echoing through the empty apartment and it echoed in her empty heart. How she ached. She would not give in. She would not. When she raised her eyes to meet those of the man who had disappeared while placing his order days before, she stood and walked him to his booth without speaking. He took her arm and pulled her down onto the seat across from him. “Shannon” he spoke softly and watched her raise an eyebrow at him in response. “How do you know my name?” “How could I not?” he shook his head. “You think I come here cause I want a crappy sausage and poor service?” he looked down over his impeccable Armani outfit and cocked his head at her. “So tell me what it will take to get you to talk to her.” Shannon stood at once. “So that is what this is about. She sent you?” “You love her, no?” his eyes cut right through her and she collapsed back down onto the seat across from him. “Yes I love her. Who are you?” “Dryfus. I manage Ceara.” Understanding she nodded her head. “She told me about you.” “Yeah?” he smiled pleased with himself. “She said you were a snide and condescending ass who only works for top dollar and she could probably do better.” The smile dried up immediately. “Well.” He considered a moment. “She is probably right.” he shrugged. “Why are you here Dryfus?”
“She is miserable.” The words from a song yelled in the night echoed in her ears. “And? Why should I care?” She watched as people stood 4 deep at the podium and the manager gave her a dirty look as he rushed towards her. “Because you love her.” Doug came to a stop in front of her. “What do you think you are doing?” his tone was terse and his eyes angry. “She is having a conversation, step away.” Dryfus said in a soft, warning tone. Doug barely spared him a dirty look. “Get off your ass and seat those patrons.” he growled at her. “I'm sorry. I must have miss spoke.” Dryfus stood up, tapping Doug's shoulder. “She was quitting.” Dryfus told him as he turned towards him. “She was what?” “Quitting.” Dryfus said again and reached for her hand. “I can't quit.” she said under her breath. “You can.” Dryfus reassured her. “How?” she asked as he nodded at her, reassuringly. She took his hand and let him lead her outside. “I assure you you will be a very rich woman after tonights show.” Dryfus walked around his car and climbed inside. “A very rich girl?” she shook her head. “What does Ceara's show have to do with me?” Dryfus reached into the car and handed her a flier for Nonnah's hands. Shannon gasped and sat down obediently as he steered her into the car. “She wants to take care of you.” He pulled away from the curb. “I don't need her...” he cut her off before she finished the sentence. “You can tell yourself that. But how well are you sleeping?
How well are your clothes fitting since you left her? Can you eat?” When she didn't answer, he shook his head and brought the car to a stop at a red light. “Shannon you love her. She is lost without you. Whatever happened, can't you fix it?” She thought for a long moment, shrugged. “I don't know. She rejected me.” Dryfus shook his head. “Don't you know she would reject oxygen if she could? She is a proud one. She has a way about her, doesn't she? Pride...pride...” he said again, shaking his head. “Where are you taking me?” “To show you what love can make.” She didn't say anything else, just sat back and watched the city fly by. When they got to the museum he led her inside. Ty assured him that Ceara was no where to be seen and Dryfus lead her down the hall to the show room. It took her breath away. She watched the lights sparkle over glass, sending colors into celebratory explosions of light. Her heart ached as she walked silently from piece to piece. How could she have know that it would only take 28 pieces to change her life forever? Sometime during her exploration Dryfus has slipped out and left her alone. She stood in awe reading the stories Ceara had written for each piece. How they had created it together. Where the inspiration had come from, how well they worked together. For the first time since all this had happened, the doors on her heart flew open and emotions swamped her. Threatening her. She stood on the verge of losing it all. Letting her walk away, letting herself lay victim to the loss of true love. At her own hands, which made it so much worse. She wasn't sure when the tears had begun to fall or how long Ceara had stood there, frozen in place, watching
her. Shannon turned, heart frozen in place as she came face to face with her. She made no attempt to run this time. “You.” Ceara said softly, stepping towards her slowly. Shannon didn't speak, just stood, unmoving. “You are the song that I can't find on the radio. I know all the words and I want to sing along but no matter how hard I search the stations I can't find your song.” Ceara's eyes threatened tears. She refused them. Shook her head and took another step forward. “You were my hands when my own were unable to create for me. Look at what we created Shannon, look. How could we create anything so beautiful and not have something beautiful inside us for each other?” Tears fell one by one from Shannon's eyes. Echoed by those that fell from Ceara's. “Do you need the words? Is that it?” She stepped forward again until she could reach out and touch her, she didn't. “Shannon Connolly, I love you.” Ceara whispered the words, watched as the tears slid down Shannon's face. Shannon stepped forward into the circle of her arms, burying her face in her shoulder she sobbed openly now but she didn't answer her. Ceara held her tightly for a long minute. Shannon stepped back from her then and walked silently from the room. Dryfus watched her go and stood silently, head hung low. Maybe it was too late for them after all. His heart ached for Ceara. Instead of doting on her like he wanted to so desperately he walked to her and held his cell phone to his ear as if he had no time or concern for her. “Two hours, Babe” he told her shortly and walked away. Right there in the middle of her show room she sat down on the floor and sobbed like a child. She ran, she didn't know for how long or why, she just ran. She loved her. She fucking loved her and here she was
running from her. She had a habit of doing so. What was she so afraid of? Leaving New York? Hell no. Since she had come back here she had wanted nothing more than to get the hell out and go back to Ireland. Ireland. Ceara. She was her everything and she knew it. So why run? She stopped and stared out over the Hudson. How in the hell had she gotten here? She turned around, hands on hips and stared back the way she had come. She must ran for miles. Confused, she let herself drop down on the curb to consider her options. He stepped from the car, impeccably dressed and as neat as Dryfus himself. He walked towards her slowly, cautiously. “Does he pay you to do all his bidding?” she recognized him from before her melt down. “Most of it, yes.” he smiled in answer and crouched before her. “I have orders to take you anywhere you want to go. Buy a dress, do your hair. Whatever it takes to have you ready for the show.” he told her, his eyes danced kindly. “I can't go back there now.” she shook her head, looked away. “You can.” he offered her a hand, kindly. “I don't have time.” she shook her head again. “You do.” He assured her and walked her to the car. “Why are you doing this for me.” she asked softly as she held her door open for her. “Because we all love her. She has searched for so long but never has she been happy. Not like she is when she talks about you.” he closed the door behind her and ran around the car. “I love her.” she said softly, he nodded his head and motioned to the driver. “I know you do. I love your hair.” he tilted his head this way and that, studying her. He held up a finger as his phone rang. “Oh my god Phillipe, I found her.” He told someone on the
phone. Apparently this Phillipe was going to save her head. Whatever that meant. “In 5.” he said and snapped his phone shut. “In 5 what?” she asked, confused. “That is how long it will take us to get you there.” he sunk back into the seat and congratulated himself, another great save. *~*~*~*~* “Doors open in 15” someone yelled. Ceara wished she was anywhere else but here. Shows usually meant nerves, jitters and of course, payday. She wanted none of what she was feeling instead. Heartbroken, miserable, lost, empty. The list went on and on. Now she had to play nice with the press and all the people what wanted to ask her hundreds of questions when all she wanted was to sink into oblivion and be lost. She reorganized several of her pieces. Adjusted note cards. Fidgeted with her suit jacket. Tugged at her hair and still had another 13 minutes to kill. “Oh Shannon.” She murmured to herself and squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment. She would not lose it again. If the woman didn't want her, then she would learn to get over it and move on. She checked her watch again. 8 minutes. The doors swung open and her Da stepped through them. Her heart flew to her throat as tears rushed to her eyes. “Da!” she flew across the room into his arms where he held her tightly. “I missed the last one.” he offered gruffly, hugged her tight another moment. “I'm so glad you came.” “4 minutes.” someone yelled. “Should we let the press in?”
“No.” Dryfus swept into the room. “Make them beg.” he added and smiled at Bram. “I see you made it.” he shook his hand warmly. “I appreciate it.” Bram nodded his head and held Ceara against his side. “You sent for my father?” she asked, never having known Dryfus for doing anything unselfish. “It is a night of gifts.” he assured her and checked his own watch. She nodded her head as two waiters armed with trays filled with flutes of champagne took their places. Nerves washed over her as the lights snapped on over her art and her father caught his breath. “If only your Mum was hear to see this.” he smiled, watery. “She would be so proud.” he held her close, looking deeply into her eyes. “I am so proud of you, my baby.” he held her hand proudly as the doors were opened to the public. Buyers and press spilled in. Her father blended into the crowd to listen quietly while they raved about his little girl. He watched her answer questions, easily, for over an hour. He smiled proudly while she explained who Nonnah was. And he knew the moment she stepped into the building. He watched Ceara speak as Ceara. He listened to the lilt in her voice as she fielded question after question with the patience of a goddess. He saw when her eyes found her in the crowd and watched as the light of love bloomed into them. He watched her recover from her falter and finish the conversation at hand. Then he watched her with pride as she took six long strides across the show room and drew Shannon into her arms. Flash bulbs popped around them, countless pictures were taken as Ceara's mouth found hers and clung. “You may regret this.” Shannon hissed in answer, happy feelings of contentment and wanting to protect the woman she loved tangled in her stomach. “Never.” Ceara reassured her. She took Shannon's hand and
held it into the air. “Ladies and Gentlemen.” she said over the noise of the crowd. “I give you Nonnah's Hands.” she smiled vibrantly as the pressed came forward in a rush to question her.
Epilogue
Ceara laid in bed holding her sides as she laughed. “The Sausage Barn, really?” she ached from loving her all night. Shannon lay naked, tangled with her. Their limbs as entwined as their hearts. Shannon laughed in answer, pressing kisses to the bare skin that was Ceara's. “I feel so sad for you right now.” her eyes teared from laughing. Shannon rolled slightly and bit her belly, spreading heat through out both their belly's. Outside the moon was high in the sky and everything was quiet. “I missed you.” Ceara whispered. “So you've told me.” Shannon smiled in answer. “I missed you too.” “Shannon.” “Ceara?” “Don't ever leave me again.” “I won't.”
“Promise?” “I promise.” “Good. Now that that is settled. Where do you want to get married?” “Well...I have always been partial to the O'briens tower. Wait, what?” Shannon sat up, stared at her. “Are you proposing to me?” “I am, yes.” Ceara rolled off the bed and knelt down on one knee, taking her hand. She smiled and closed her eyes for one long moment. “Shannon Connolly, will you be doing me the pleasure of being my bride?” Shannon cocked her head for a second, eyes dancing mischievously. “How badly do you want me to say yes?” She smiled. “Darling.” Ceara eyed her wickedly. “Say yes.” “Or?” Ceara lowered her head, tracing her belly with the tip of her tongue. “Or I'll make you unable to think until you say yes.” “Well it sounds to me like I should say no then.” She laughed, breathless as Ceara found her swollen and wanting. She gasped as her tongue came dangerously close to where she wanted it. “And if I say yes?” she asked, breathless. “Immeasurable pleasure right now.” Shannon laughed. “Ceara?” “Yes love?” “I love you.” “And I you my love. Well?” Shannon laughed till she was breathless again. She brought her eyes to hers and held. “Yes.” Content, Ceara pushed her back against The pillows and traced her swollenness with the tip of her tongue.
Shannon's legs fell open and welcomed her. It was wonderful to find herself here again. Once the passion was banked for another rest Shannon laid her head against Ceara's chest and sighed. The quiet of the still Ireland air contented her. “Do you miss New York?” Shannon shook her head. “I'm just happy to be home.” Shannon sighed, looking around their bedroom. Who would have thought they would buy a house in the Irish country side not even a year after they met? Who would have known this wonderful creature lying beside her was her fate the day they stepped off that plane together. “Ceara?” she whispered. “Yeah?” “You made me believe the day you surrender to me The memory will never die The love you gave me I'll never throw it away” she sang to her softly. “The memory will never die” Ceara whispered in response. Ceara smiled “Shannon my love” She murmured. “Mm?” Shannon answered, half asleep. “We need a happier song.” She laughed lightly. “That we do.” Shannon pondered for a long moment. “When is Aggie due again?” Ceara beamed with pride as she thought about her brother and his bride already producing another O'Neill heir. “Sometime mid august, why?” “We should definitely get married before she has the baby then.” Ceara thought about this for a long moment. “I have another show in September.” she reminded her. “And I am going to want a honey moon.” Shannon smiled sweetly.
“And where would you like to go then?” Ceara arched an eyebrow at her and studied her face for a long moment. “Anywhere you are.” Shannon whispered and Ceara smiled and pulled her close. “Your wish is my command.” Ceara whispered and kissed her softly. “Anything you want.” Ceara smiled “Anything you need.” Shannon smiled in return. “Always.” They whispered together and sealed their promise with a kiss.