Had To Be You (7 page)

She stayed at her house long enough to help her mother make the last few beds, promising she would be back in the morning to say hello to everyone.

Scrolling through the first dozen new messages on her phone, all work related, Rory tried to prioritize the order of her expected replies. But her attention drifted, her eyes gradually traveling the room to finally land on the framed photographs on the pine dresser. In one, Kevin and Brian Murphy and Matt shared wide grins and beers on the deck of his boat. Right next to that was a photo of Senior Prom, all of them lined up on the O’Shea’s wide front lawn.

She moved over to pick it up, this small snapshot of the past. Lindsay and Bobby were typically polished and dutifully posed, while Jill and Kevin were cracking up together in the center, nearly doubled over in their laughter, his shirt and tie the exact same lavender as the tulle of her gown. Her boyfriend had broken up with her just two weeks before prom, and Kevin stepped in to save the day with his typical sweet chivalry.

Then there was Matt, looking rather dapper in his tux as well, built a bit taller and broader than the other boys. His hand was gently curved around her waist and she was turned slightly towards him, chin tilted up with a smile, the hues of the sunset warming her face. With head bowed, just the very tip of his nose buried in her hair, he was whispering something in her ear.

There was a soft knock on the bedroom door. Rory quickly placed the photo down and spun around. Kevin poked his head in, holding out his phone.

“Hey, it’s Jill. She wants to say hi.”

She flashed a brief, almost guilty smile.

“Thanks.”

Hesitating, she waited until he turned to leave before she lifted it to her ear, her smile twisting into a slight grimace.

“Hi. What’s going on?”

“Oh, I’m just taking a quick break from all the fun and festivities with Trevor’s parents, resorting to the excuse that I needed to lay down after it became apparent just how many times two human beings can actually use the term ‘Big Apple’ with absolutely no irony at all, and I thought I’d give you a quick call to ask
—”
Jill’s voice suddenly jumped about ten decibels
“—
what the HELL you think you’re doing?”

Rory cringed. “I’m simply enjoying Memorial Day weekend at home.”

“
R—really?” Jill was starting to stammer in that way she did when she was overly excited or flustered. “So what happened to the Memorial Day weekend you were supposed to be enjoying
not
at home—very, very far away from home and all its inhabitants?”

“I had a change of plans.”

“I have to say, after our phone conversation last week? You’re making me very nervous here.”

“Relax, calm down. This is not the time for you to be getting worked up,” Rory said carefully, stealing a furtive glance at the door. “And it’s not what you think. I decided I just really needed to get away for a while.”

“A while?” Jill didn’t sound comforted at all. “A minute ago you said weekend, and now you’re saying a while.”

Rory didn’t even realize she’d made the distinction. And then there was that question again.

“What are you really doing there, Rory?”

“I had some vacation time coming to me. I’ll lose it if I don’t use it.” It was the best she could come up with at the moment.

“And what about Jonathan?”

She was instantly on the defensive. “What about him?”

“
Rory…
” Jill whined.

“Okay, so maybe I have been thinking that he and I—well, that maybe we’ve run our course.” She half-surprised herself with this statement, yet as soon as it left her lips it felt like fact. “I mean, it’s not like there’s some big future waiting for us. So maybe there’s no reason to prolong the inevitable.”

“And what’s going on there?” Jill persisted. “Kevin said you’re staying with them at the beach house. Talk to me. Have you seen Matt?”

“Maybe.”

“Rory!”

“Okay, you really want to know?” she finally burst out. “I’ll tell you! There’s this little park in the city near my apartment, right? And sometimes, on Sunday mornings if it’s nice out, I’ll take a book and grab a coffee and go sit there and read a while,” she continued, even though she knew she was veering dangerously close to some psychotic rambling. “And a lot of the time this elderly Russian woman will be there, too, and we’ll share the same bench, and even though I obviously don’t speak a word of Russian, she seems so grateful for company that I just humor her and nod along if she talks to me.”

She had to pause to take a breath, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Then one day, she was there with a woman who turned out to be her daughter. And she starts talking, per usual, but the daughter immediately sees that I don’t understand. So she smiles and apologizes, explaining that her mother loves to tell stories about her father—her husband who died very young, after they were only married a few years. See? She obviously doesn’t want to let his memory go, so she tells all these stories about him and their love and their life together, except the thing is that most people she meets probably don’t even speak a word of her language! Nobody ever really hears her. They don’t even know what she is saying!”

“A feeling I am becoming increasingly familiar with,” Jill replied.

“I don’t want to end up like that!”

“Well, there’s a guy in my neighborhood that lives in a cardboard box and wears a tinfoil hat and not only talks to himself, but answers himself, too. I don’t want to end up like that, either.”

Rory shook her head in frustration, her voice rising. “I just don’t want to find myself all alone on some park bench someday reminiscing about a long lost love to some strangers who could never even
begin
to understand what it meant, okay? It’s too sad!”

“That is not going to be you, and you know that. Besides, I will always be there to sit on that bench with you.”

“Thanks a lot,” she said, suddenly drained of all pent-up energy and emotion as her sardonic smile slipped back into place. Jill had that unique ability to make her feel appropriately foolish.

“Oh, hell.” Her voice suddenly dropped to a strained whisper. “I think I hear someone coming. I’m supposed to be napping! I’ll talk to you later.”

“All right.”

“And Rory?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t make me have to hear about some nasty catfight with her at a cocktail party where you both fall into a pool or something, okay? Bye!”

Rory hung up the phone and brought her gaze back to the framed photo on the dresser.

It was always a struggle for her to recall the pass code to her office gym; she retained maybe five phrases from four years of high school Spanish and was typically a week or so late in wishing anyone a happy birthday.

So why was it so easy to remember exactly what words he was saying to her, all those years ago, in a single, brief moment in time?

***

She padded into the kitchen in a pair of rumpled boxers and a fitted t-shirt, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as she covered a yawn. Through the glass doors out to the deck she could see the sun had burned off all the early morning haze. Its reflection sparkled off the crystal blue water, waves rolling in to lap at the peaceful shore. In only a couple of hours, people would be swarming in like ants to cover every available patch of sand with blankets and chairs and brightly-colored striped umbrellas.

Filling a ceramic mug with coffee, she took a seat at the kitchen table. She needed to bathe her brain cells in a little caffeine before going over to see the relatives.

Along with the local daily newspaper, there was a bright pink cardboard box sitting in the middle of the table that hadn’t been there when she went to bed. Rory opened the cover to peek in at the assortment of fresh muffins, crullers and coffeecakes. Danny must have gone out that morning, because there was no way Kevin was up yet.

The two of them had sat up on the deck long after the others had gone to bed, drinking cold beers as the warm breezes blew in over the soft rush of waves, their laughter floating up into the night sky as they joked and reminisced—lingering in amazement over the fact Jill Feeney was about to become somebody’s mother and staying mercifully clear of the fact Matt O’Shea was about to become somebody’s husband.

The remnants of the late night still clouded her brain, making her thought processes a little foggy. So, as she watched the truck pull into the driveway outside, for a moment she wasn’t really sure if she was seeing things.

A moment later Matt came into view, jogging up the wooden stairs to the deck, a pair of baggy shorts slung low on his waist. His faded t-shirt was a much better fit, clinging rather nicely to his muscled shoulders and broad chest. He pulled the door open and walked straight over to the kitchen cabinet to grab a mug.

Picking up the coffee pot to pour, he let out a heavy, world-weary sigh.

Even though Rory’s heart was beginning to flutter and race, stirring up old butterflies, she couldn’t help but smile curiously as she narrowed her gaze. Propping an elbow on the table, she rested her chin in her hand and continued to quietly observe.

Matt replaced the glass pot and lifted the mug to his mouth to take a swallow, and only then did he glance in her direction. His blue eyes widened in near alarm as he promptly spit out his coffee in showering spray.

She bit back a gasp of amusement, trying not to laugh out loud as he sheepishly placed the mug on the counter, wiping at the coffee, now spattered on the front of his shirt.

“Hey,” he greeted her, chuckling in embarrassment.

“Hey yourself.” Rory couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore. “You okay?”

“Yeah, you just, ah…” He grinned, ducking his head. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

She arched an eyebrow in amusement, bringing her coffee to her lips.

“Getting a little jumpy in your old age, Matt?”

He was still dabbing his shirt off and only lifted his dark blue eyes to smirk at her, not saying a word. Kevin came shuffling into the kitchen past him at that moment, nearly oblivious to all as he yawned and scratched at his stomach.

Matt leaned back against the counter to pick up his mug, glancing over at his brother.

“Did you know you had a Rory Finn sitting at your kitchen table this morning?”

Kevin nodded his head as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“I also had one in my guest bedroom last night.”

Matt narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Hmm…where do I get myself one of those?”

She only gave him the obligatory roll of her eyes, desperately hoping that the slight heat she felt creeping up her cheeks wasn’t fanning out into an obvious blush.

“In fact, Rory is our special guest star for the whole fun-filled holiday weekend,” Kevin explained as he moved over to sit with her at the table. “Speaking of which—how did last night go?”

“Ran out of our Old Harbor Ale by ten o’clock.”

“Who the hell you got running that place?” Kevin joked as he flipped open the box of breakfast pastries. “We’re actually thinking of heading out on the town tonight for a pub crawl. Figured we’d make you our last call for alcohol.”

“Who? You and our lovely little lightweight over there?” Matt raised his eyebrows. “You do realize that the crawl part of that terminology is only meant to be taken figuratively, right?”

Rory exaggerated her sigh. “Yet still not any funnier in your old age.”

He grinned. “Do I really need to be, though, when I turned out to be this damn good looking?”

“Now
that
?” Her smile took on a sarcastic edge. “That’s funny.”

He hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter in one swift movement, shifting over to reach for his coffee.

“So, Kev—sun’s out; gonna be a beautiful day, the first morning of a long weekend. What’s on the agenda here?”

“Just kickin’ back,” he said with a lazy smile. “I’m usually running around the house in the morning, scrambling to get in there on time, finishing grading papers or prepping for a class assignment. Now I get to sit and relax with my cuppa java and read the newspaper. I might even…” He reached for it, and then produced a small ballpoint pen with a triumphant grin. “Do the crossword puzzle.”

Matt blinked, and his expression wavered between dismay and disgust.

“That’s it? That’s how you take advantage of a day off?” He shook his head sadly. “Well, just warn us if you’re going to continue on to Sudoku, because that might be too much wild insanity for me to comprehend all in one day.”

“Matty!”

Danny suddenly appeared through the glass doors from the deck, fresh off a run on the beach, shirtless and glistening as he swiped at his sweaty brow with the t-shirt balled in his hand.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m here to try to undo all the damage your influence has obviously inflicted, and try to save at least one brother from becoming old before his time,” he responded matter-of-factly.

His older brother paused to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, taking a thirsty gulp.

“And are you implying that I’m boring?”

“Not boring, so much as mind-numbingly dull.”

“You know, growing up is not such a bad thing.” Danny tilted his head towards him meaningfully. “You should try it some time. You might like it.”

“Hey, I have my own accountant,” Matt tossed back. “If that’s not grown-up, then I don’t know what is.”

“Yeah, and soon you’ll have a wife, kids…maybe even a minivan,” Danny laughed. “We’ll see how you’re doing then!”

If Rory felt a glancing, painful hit, Matt’s expression looked as if he’d taken the brunt of that blow.

“I need to grab a shower and get to work.” Danny headed towards the stairs. “Don’t make me have to arrest any of you later.”

Matt frowned after him before returning his attention to the kitchen table, although now he seemed to avoid Rory’s eyes.

“Did Eileen stay over last night?” he asked, keeping it discreet.

Kevin nodded, stealing a glance up the staircase. “She’s here,” he said, using the same hushed tone. “I heard her this morning when he left for his run. She must still be up there, getting ready or something. I don’t know.”