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Authors: Mary Curran Hackett

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BOOK: Proof of Angels
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Libby looked at James, surprised by this rare instance of insight. “You talk from lots of experience, do you?”

“Pretty much. Un-forch,” James said, cutting his word in half as he often did, as if it would have been thoroughly exhausting to come out and say the entire five-syllable word.

“But it was complicated, James. It was. It's hard for me to explain, but there came a point when I started to believe I wasn't worthy of her. She was so beautiful, so ambitious, and so filled with this energy and light. She was an artist and a brilliant student with all of these highfalutin friends, all these ideas and opinions. I felt like I couldn't keep up. I had dropped out of college. Dropped out of the seminary. I had no idea what I wanted out of life. And she did. She knew exactly. And the only thing I knew was that I wanted her. I wanted to be with her. And I felt like I was losing her. When we went out, I started to drink. Just to loosen up at first. Just to get comfortable, but then I couldn't stop. God help me, I couldn't stop. And I wanted to. I wanted to stop. I wanted to be as clean and alive and sober as I could be when I was with her. I wanted to feel every moment when I was with her, but at some point I wanted the wine more. Until it was all I thought about.”

“Like I said.” James nodded. “
Me over you
. It's that simple.”

“But I didn't want to be selfish. I didn't,” Sean shot back and then looked up at the ceiling tiles as if one of them hid his explanation and he needed to punch it out to get to it. When Sean looked back at each of them, they were locked in a communal stare. And he knew they understood. They knew. Even James put his fork down and pushed his plate toward the middle of the table.

Yes, Sean knew, they understood just how hard
the
simple
really was. He knew that no matter how many meetings, no matter how many daily affirmations, no matter how many promises made to the self and others, that every simple no to the bottle, the food, the work, or the heroin was complicated. And if another person was at the table it would have been something else. Sean knew they knew. Everyone's got something that makes existing complicated. That makes them put the me-over-you in motion.

“I tried to get better though. I went to church. I thought that since it had worked before, it would work again. I went and spoke to a priest in Florence and confessed my sins. I told him about Chiara, about how much I loved her and how much I wanted to get better for her.”

“So what did he tell you to do?” Libby asked.

“I thought he would say give up the wine. Do penance. But he told me to give up Chiara. He said I was obsessed. I was sinning by living with and fornicating with her and I was ruining the girl. He told me if I had any love at all for the girl, I'd leave her. I'd let her live her life, and I'd take my drunken ass back to America where I belonged. In not so many words . . . mind you.”

“Well, that was some shitty advice,” Tom chimed in. “You didn't take that load of crap, did you?”

Sean looked at all of them and raised his hands as if surrendering to the enemy. “I'm here, aren't I?”

“No, no, no, no,” Libby said, shaking her head. “We have to make this right. You're sober now. She's an adult now. You're an adult now. You're not some nineteen-year-old kid who doesn't know better. Things have changed. If you loved each other, like you say you did, then”—Libby opened her arms wide—“then she'd be crazy not to give you a second chance. You have to go to her.”

“We'll even help you,” James said, wrapping his arms around Libby from behind and folding her into his chest. Libby turned and took James's hand in such a familiar way that it occurred to Sean for the first time that they were already a couple. Somehow, in the six months that had passed, they had fallen in love in plain sight, but Sean had missed it until now.
Of course they had
. They all spent hours together in his apartment. At restaurants. They often left and arrived at his place together. Sean recognized it instantly.
But why had James kept it from him? Why had Libby
? Then, almost instantly, Sean knew the answer. They pitied him. They were afraid to be happy in front of him. He imagined it was Libby's idea to keep it quiet. James wasn't the type to keep secrets. But love changes people, Sean knew. He knew it better than anyone. And James and Libby were in the part of new love that was all theirs. Just theirs. If no one knew about it, no one could taint it. They, too, had walked into the mist, and were getting consumed by it. He saw the change now in Libby's face: the relaxed laughter, the ease of her actions around James, and the glow in her cheeks.

Tom threw his napkin on the table. “Damn tyranny of the religious, self-righteous, fundamentalist bullshit artists who go around ruining people's lives.”

Sean looked up at Tom and it took a minute for him to register Tom's reaction. He was still thinking of Libby and James, but then said, “Tom, I know that it would be easy for me to blame that priest. Blame anyone, but I know, in the end, I was the one who started to drink. I was the one who made the decision to leave. In a way the priest was right. I was a mess and I was messing up Chiara in the process.”

“So how did you do it?” Libby asked. “How did you, you know, break the poor girl's heart?”

“I just left,” Sean admitted, shaking his head in disbelief at his own actions.

“No note? No good-bye? No phone call?” Tom asked disapprovingly.

“Nada,” Sean said, mindlessly pushing around his cake now.

“That's like, I don't know, harsh,” James added. “Way harsh. I wouldn't want to see you.”

“James!” Libby said, swatting his arm.

“I am just being honest! If you ask me, I think that's pretty weak. Pretty damn weak. No offense, Sean.”

“None taken, and I agree, James. That's why I have to make this right. I owe her at least an explanation. Face-to-face this time. See, that's why it's so important that I don't write, call, or e-mail. It will appear, as you say, James,
weak
. I have to go to her and do something right for a change.”

James, Tom, and Libby all nodded in agreement and reached across the table to take Sean's hand. Even Chief,
who'd sat quietly beside Sean through the entire meal, leaned over and propped his head on Sean's lap in tacit agreement.

“Whatever you need us to do, man, we got your back,” James said.

Sean stopped and tried to capture the moment. A moment he hadn't experienced in years. Not since he, Gaspar, Cathleen, and Colm were all together. He tried to rest there in the swell of it. He could feel his chest expanding with the enormity of what he was beginning to feel. He couldn't quite capture it, but he knew that what was happening in that moment was the beginning of something. He wasn't sure of what exactly. He had no idea how it would end or if it would end, but he could feel something was most definitely happening. A bond was forming joke by joke, shared story after shared story, forkful by forkful, smile after smile, argument after argument, secret after secret. It was a moment of fullness, of complete and utter abundance.
My cup runneth over
, Cathleen would have said if she was here. It was like feeling every possible emotion there was to feel all at once. He was exhausted but exhilarated. Scared but hopeful. Alone but surrounded by friends. Wanting but satisfied. Sad but happy. Homesick but utterly at home. And he knew that everyone at the table, somehow, at some point, had a reason for being here with him at this moment, too.
There is always a reason, Uncle Sean
. He looked at Libby's sweater that hid her track-marked arm, resting on James's back. He looked at Tom cradling his wife with one arm and pushing his plate full of carbohydrates as far as possible from himself. He looked at James tucking a fresh napkin into his shirt collar, ready to dive into the remnants
of Libby's half-eaten cake. He looked down at Chief, the only one of all of them completely at peace, nodding off at his feet. He felt the swell surround him, swallow him whole and spit him out, sending him soaring, flying now, through a world without winged angels, but ones who appeared, as if from out of nowhere, and asked nothing from him in return. And yet he somehow felt indebted to them. He knew he owed each of them for getting him this far. He wanted to be the kind of friend to each of them that they had been to him. And he knew he would start right now. Today.

Chapter 14

A
T
S
EAN
'
S APARTMENT THE FOLLOWING EVENING
, Libby, back in her jeans and Converses, sat quietly curled up next to Chief and watched
Jeopardy!
, waiting for Sean to emerge from his bedroom.

“When's the movie, Lib?” Sean shouted from his room as he made the final adjustments to his hair, trying hard to brush the pieces toward his face to hide the scar tissue that lined his face and ear.

“Seven, I think. James texted me and said he's on his way. He's running late. We'll have to catch dinner after. So don't rush.”

Sean grabbed his walker and slowly made his way down the hall. Libby hopped up with Chief and they walked over to assist him.

“I got it. I look a lot worse than I am. It actually doesn't hurt too badly to walk. I feel stronger every day.”

“Tom said you're only supposed to take a few steps at a time. You're not to overdo it.”

“I'm not. I got this. Go sit down. I'll be there in a second,” Sean said, slowly making his way across his tiny apartment. “So you said James texted you. Do you and James talk a lot?” Sean asked, looking out of the corner of his eye and watching the answers flash on the screen before him as he made his way to the couch to sit next to Libby.

“What makes you say that?”

“I saw how you guys touched and flirted at his party last night. You're together. Aren't you?” Sean asked, collapsing slowly beside her.

Libby turned her body toward Sean. “It was that obvious?”

“Pretty much,” Sean said, pulling the walker alongside the couch and out of his view of the TV.

“James wanted to keep it from you. He was worried. He thinks that maybe . . . you have a . . . oh, forget it. He is just worried that you'd feel like a third wheel.”

“Nah. I am happy for you guys. Seriously. He's a great guy, Lib. But I have to ask, how did it happen?” Sean could see Libby begin to blush. “Go on. Spill it. I want to hear all about it.”

“It was amazing, really. Sean, you wouldn't believe it. Without a hint of hesitation or self-consciousness, James flat out told me, ‘I think you're the most amazingly beautiful woman I have ever seen.' He said it the night he walked me to my car with Chief. I guess it was right after that time he bought us all Thai food. Back when I was bringing Chief to see you every day.”

Sean laughed and shook his head. “Kid doesn't waste any time. That's like right after we all met. Sounds like James.”

Libby laughed, too, and nodded. “I thought he was joking. I went right back at him and said, ‘Yeah, right.' No one had ever said those words to me, Sean. No one. He didn't play any games. He didn't hold anything back. All he said was, ‘I want to kiss you. May I kiss you? I won't if you'll feel uncomfortable. But it's really all I can think about.' Can you imagine just coming out and asking for what you want?”

Sean nodded again. “Yes, Lib. Yes, I can. He doesn't mince words and doesn't waste time.” Sean could actually picture James seizing his chance to kiss Libby. No, there were no silly one-liners for James. If he liked what he saw, he told people so. And he knew Libby, herself, was too smart to fall for some false pickup line. Women like her heard them on a daily basis. And Sean knew what James already did: if he wanted to kiss her, he would have to just tell her exactly what he wanted.

“Sean, he said it so matter-of-factly, it took my breath away. I kept telling him, ‘You're crazy,' but he just looked at me with complete sincerity and waited for me to nod. And when I did nod, James put his hands on my hips—high-school-dance style, like this,” Libby said, grabbing Sean's hips, “and then he leaned in and kissed me. I couldn't pull away. I just couldn't. I didn't want him to stop. Ever.”

“That smooth operator,” Sean acknowledged, sliding Libby's hands off his hips, feeling suddenly uncomfortable this close to her, to anyone. “Then what?”

“James said, ‘We should get out of here,' and without saying anything I followed him across the hospital garage
and got in his truck with Chief sitting in between us. I thought he was taking me to his place to finish what we started, but without skipping a beat he says to me, ‘I know this amazing Italian place that overlooks the water. You'll love it!' Can you believe that? He didn't take me to bed. He took me to dinner . . . again . . . after we had just eaten.”

“You want me to be surprised about that? About James? Of course I can believe it! James follow up a kiss with dinner? Classic. Aw, Lib. Sounds sweet. I am so happy for you two.”

“Really? You're happy? You're not mad that we were sneaking around on you? Or jealous? James thinks you have a crush on me.”

“Me? Have a crush on you? What are we, ten?” Sean laughed and then squeezed her hand. “You're sweet and all . . . but . . .”

“Well, you don't have to be so mean about it!” Libby joked and punched him lightly in the arm with her free hand.

“No, it's just that I really, really can't help but think about anyone other than Chiara. You understand? Right? You're beautiful. I didn't mean it that way. It's just—”

“I know what you mean, Sean. You're like a brother to me. A wonderful, kind, funny brother. The brother I never had.” Libby squeezed his arm and leaned in to put her head on his shoulder.

It was Sean who was blushing now. Embarrassed and feeling unworthy of being called
brother
, Sean shook his head. He had barely been a brother to his own sister of late. “James is a lucky guy, Lib. You're a good person. He deserves a good, decent person. You both do.”

“You know that night at dinner—our first date—James
said the very same thing about you. We talked till nearly two
A
.
M
. And he told me about how you guys met on the job. He told me how quiet you were, and lonely, when you came to the fire department and how he couldn't imagine being so far away from your home in New York. He said he thought something bad had happened to you back there. He's convinced you experienced something terrible that you never want to talk about. And he doesn't want to force you to do it.”

Sean shook his head.

“What? Sean? You can tell me.”

“It's not something I talk about. With anyone. Not even James.”

“I understand, Sean. James does, too. We all have something we can't talk about. It's okay to keep it to yourself. To own it. It's okay. Keep it till you're ready. But know that James and I are always here.”

“Thanks, Lib.”

“No, thank James. He's the one who told me that.”

“He's a pretty smart guy.”

“Did you know he reads like a book a night? That he's the youngest of seven children? Grew up right here in Venice Beach and is a third-generation firefighter?”

Sean nodded.

“Of course you do, Sean. James said you spent every available hour together for the past three years, surfing mostly. He's worried about leaving you all alone . . . He's worried that I'll come between you guys.”

“He's a good guy, Lib. Like I said, I'm not worried. He shouldn't be. I am glad he's got somebody. I was worried about him actually. Worried that if I ever left for Italy, there'd
be no one here for him . . . no friend at least. He's got family coming out of the woodwork, but you know what I mean.”

“I do, Sean. I do.”

“I've never met anyone who loves life more, Lib. He enjoys every moment. Every bite of food. Every wave. He enjoys the simplest and most wonderful things and he's always reminding me to do the same. I would have been lost here without him. He's the most genuine guy I know and I've never met a guy before who just wants to help for the sake of helping.”

“I know. He's almost too good to be true. He told me he became a firefighter not just because it was what his dad did, but because he couldn't imagine ever doing anything other than helping people for a living,” Libby said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I mean, what's a guy like him see in a girl like me?”

Sean looked at her for a long time and a thought occurred to him. He knew that besides Libby's beauty and her heart, James probably saw someone else he could help.
Another lost soul to show the moment to
. But Sean didn't say it out loud. “You're fantastic, Lib. That's why. He knows it. I know it.”

“You know what James told me the secret to happiness is?”

Sean knew, of course. He had heard James's speeches over and over on their way to catch waves.
Live in the moment. Forget the bullshit everyone tells you. The bullshit everyone expects from you. Just be here. Right now, man
.

“Live in the moment, Sean. It's like, duh. I mean everyone says that. But when he said it, it was like,
click
. I get it. Yes. Yes, James. You're so right.”

“He has a way about him, Lib.”

“You want to know what else he told me?”

“Should you be telling me this, Lib?” Sean said, looking worried. “I don't want you betraying his trust or anything.”

“It's okay. I think you should hear it. He told me how scared he was about losing you in that fire. He said he was at the corner of the house, running toward you as you fell. He saw you land, Sean. He thought you were dead. At first the scene played itself over and over like a loop in his head. He couldn't bear to watch it. And the only thing that helped was sitting by you in the hospital and seeing your face. You were in a coma and you couldn't respond, but he talked to you every day. He told you he blamed himself. He told you he should have been there with you and that you shouldn't have been up in that house all by yourself. It was by being with you, every day, in the moment, that he could get back out of that nightmare he kept reliving when he wasn't with you.”

“I wish he didn't feel that way. I wish he knew that it's not his fault. That it's not his burden. That stuff just happens.”

“I think he knows that now, Sean. Seeing you recover, seeing you up and walking has really helped him, too. He told me last night that seeing you walking was the best birthday present anyone has ever given him.”

“Jeez. I had no idea. I guess I forgot about that.”

“What did you forget, Sean?”

“I forgot that when bad things happen to people we love, it can hurt us just as much. All this time I've been thinking about me. I didn't think about what all this was doing to James.”

“It's not doing anything to him now, Sean. He's fine. But
I just want you to know how much he loves and cares about you. And how he doesn't want you thinking that he and I are going to come between what you guys share.”

“I know that. But as his friend it makes me happy to know that he is happy and that he has found someone to love him. Really love him. And I can't tell you how happy I am that he's found someone he can love who will give him the love he deserves.”

“You know that is exactly why I love him so much. I love him because he loves me. I love the way he loves me. He makes me feel like I matter in this world. He calls me. He listens to me. He drops whatever he is doing when I need him. You know what he said the other night? ‘
It is you who I want, Libby Cartwright. You more than anyone else. It's you I want to kiss. You I want to eat with. You I want to wake up next to. You I want to sit in my truck with and watch the waves crash against the rocks. It is you I want to be with. You. I choose you. Every day. It's that simple. You over me. I choose you.'”

“Man. He's super smooth. I gotta remember that for my big moment,” Sean said with a wink.

“Sean, I want to disappear into that love. Just like you said you did with Chiara. For the past few weeks I thought it would be impossible to explain to anyone else what it felt like to be with him and so I didn't even try. I didn't want to. But now I can't help it. It overwhelms me and I want everyone to know.”

“Know what?” James shouted, walking through the door and catching Sean's hand wrapped around Libby's as she told him about her love for James. “What's this?”

Libby pushed herself away quickly and leaped off the
couch and wrapped her arms around James. “James! You're here, ready for the movie?”

“What did I miss?” James asked, looking at Libby and then at Sean suspiciously.

“Lib here was just telling me how you two have been sneaking around on me.”

“What?” James looked at Libby. “I thought we discussed this.”

“I know, James. But it's Sean. He's fine with it. No biggie. Right, Sean?”

“I'm happy for you guys. Now let's quit the bullshit and get out of this apartment. I am going stir crazy in here.”

James pulled the walker from beside the couch and put it in front of Sean. “I wanted to tell you myself, Sean. I did. I just . . .”

“James, don't worry about it. Help me up,” Sean said, pushing hard on the walker to stand up.

“I got your back, man. I'll always have your back,” James said while watching Sean and Libby share a knowing smile.

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