The Voyage of Lucy P. Simmons (12 page)

18

I
retired to my room before dinner, exhausted from the events of the day. My head was still spinning. Frustration with Walter propelling me into a stroll with Seamus, sharing the bough of a tree with him, and—my heart raced at the memory of it—a kiss! No time to even reflect on that before accidentally eavesdropping on Marni and Miss Oonagh, hearing Marni's desperate desire to learn about her long-lost son—to no avail. Trailing her to the workhouse, then discovering Annie with the fairy, making a deal, and coming home to find Brigit and Patsy. And still Marni hadn't returned.

I flopped back onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. I was still angry at Walter. And there was something else. How dare he flirt so shamelessly with Brigit! He made a fool of himself fawning over her. And she, over him. My thoughts skipped to Seamus—his blue eyes and dark lashes, his smile, his lips. . . . “Stop it!” I said aloud, my hands flying to my cheeks, which felt hot beneath my fingers. He was so charming, but I was startled to realize that I didn't completely trust him—why was that? Had I been influenced by all of Walter's chiding?

I grabbed a towel and headed to the bath, ran the water, and sat on the edge of the tub as the room filled with steam. Stripped off my dirty clothes and sunk in for a soothing soak. I closed my eyes and let the water envelope me. Dozed off dreaming of Marni holding hands with her blond-haired boy, Miss Oonagh blowing a smoke ring that settled like a lasso around Walter and Brigit. The talking cards taunting me, until the Grey Man slunk in, everyone disappearing in his midst. And a voice:
Find the treasure or the sea will find you!

Suddenly I was surrounded by water, choking, thrashing.

I awoke with a start, the bath overflowing, brackish water pouring full force from the tap. I reached for the handle, turned it one way, then the other. Hopelessly it spun. The bathwater turned dark, ominous—I could no longer see my body beneath the surface. I yanked the stopper. With a huge sucking sound the water began to swirl down the drain, the force of it pulling savagely against my toes. I attempted to climb from the tub, but was pulled back by the force of the current. I slipped and fell, a mysterious undertow sucking me beneath the surface. Salty as the sea, it was. My eyes stung. I coughed and choked, spitting the briny water from my mouth.

A knock on the door. “Lucy—are ye all right in there?”

“Addie,” I sputtered, hands gripping the edge of the tub, hoisting myself up.

“I heard a terrible thunk, I did, worried ye slipped in the bath. Ye been in there quite a time!”

I pushed the dripping hair from my face, and looked down—not a drop of water was left in the tub. I stepped out, the floor beneath my feet cold, but completely dry.

“Are ye all right then?” she called.

“I . . . yes, Addie,” I managed. “I'm drying myself off.”

“Well, hurry up then dinner's close t' servin'!”

“I will.” I listened to her retreating steps, staring at the dripping tap . . .
bloop
. . .
bloop
. . .
bloop
. . . the water taunting me.

I wrapped the towel around me and hastily escaped to my room. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I shivered. It was one thing for the sea to threaten me while sailing—it was another for it to pursue me on land. Suddenly the queen of spades, Mary Maude Lee, rose from the place where I'd placed her atop my bureau and hovered before me. “Remember,” she hissed. “I'll do my part. But ultimately it's you who needs to find the treasure—or the sea
will
find you!” She narrowed her eyes. “Never underestimate me! Now, get yourself prettied up and get on with it!”

She floated off and settled facedown next to Molly. With trembling hands I attempted to drag a comb through my wet hair, and instead grabbed a ribbon, gathered the salty, tangled mess into a thick column at the nape of my neck. I pulled a simple frock from the armoire, yanked it over my head, and slipped the cards into my pocket. Glancing in the mirror as I headed for the door, I stopped and stared at the young woman looking back at me. But who I saw was Brigit. Unencumbered by a curse, carefree in a way I'd never known. Her blue eyes so much more arresting than my green, her silky, honey-colored hair curving in around her chin and falling gracefully to her shoulders. I'd always thought of myself as comely, in my own way, but next to Brigit . . . and it was clear Walter felt the same way. And on top of it I couldn't even dislike her!

Downstairs Addie and Patsy were laying out a feast—a ham, sweet with brown sugar, an Irish stew of lamb, potatoes, and carrots, applesauce, a pot of creamy potatoes and cabbage. The table was set for a crowd, and it seemed everyone was in the kitchen, sneaking a taste of this, a scrap of that. There was an air of festivity and anticipation that almost made me forget about my disheveled appearance.

“Oh, Lucy! There ye are!” Bridget said. “Been waitin' fer ye, we have. Now maybe we'll have time t' get t' know one another better!” She smiled, took me by the hand, and pulled me toward the sidebar. “Have a taste of me mam's ham! I saved ye the crispy edge, all crusted in sugar!”

The capt'n sounded the dinner bell. “Everyone's place is marked with a name card,” he exclaimed. “Let's take our seats, all of us!”

A quick scan of the table indicated fourteen places set, each with a small folded card, our names scrolled in Addie's lovely script. There was Seamus, his hair slicked neatly back in beautiful shiny waves, looking scrubbed and fresh. He nodded at me, the edges of his mouth teased by a smile. Pulled out my chair and waved me toward it in a courtly manner. I blushed and slid into my seat. Old Peader found his place and plunked down, Rosie collapsing at his feet beneath the table. He tucked his napkin at his throat, eagerly clutched his fork and knife in fisted hands. Georgie and Annie sat on either side of the capt'n, Walter beside his brother. Brigit had been assigned directly across from Walter. Grady and Miss Oonagh shuffled in, with Pru behind them, all
ooh
ing and
ahh
ing at the table, complete with flowers and candles.

Despite all this I had the peculiar feeling of missing someone. Of course—Marni. There, beside me, was her name card, but her seat was empty. I sighed. It seemed that I was always waiting for the day she wouldn't return, my anxiety commensurate with her restlessness.

The capt'n stood beside his chair at the head of the table, and Addie at the opposite end—a pair of smiling bookends. Patsy, her white apron tied snugly, gestured with wooden spoon in hand. “That's the way, all of ye's seat yerselfs and I'll be doin' the servin.' Oh, thank the good Lord, there's Miss Marni now, just in time!”

Relief flooded over me. My shoulders relaxed and I was finally able to enjoy the delectable smells and lovely atmosphere. Marni slipped in quietly beside me and gave my hand a squeeze. She leaned over and whispered, “What a lovely piece.” I followed her eyes beyond my knife and spoon. My mouth dropped open. I reached for the finely carved statuette that fit in the palm of my hand. The tree was unmistakable, its low, graceful boughs, two birds nestled in the branches, breast to breast. One's head was tilted toward the other. The larger bird had one wing extended, as though shielding its mate. I looked up at Seamus, speechless. But the expression on my face must have told him how moved I was by the beauty of the work and the memory of the moment. It was his turn to blush. He nodded, ran a hand through his curls, and looked away, smiling with half of his mouth.

“The wine is poured, unless ye prefer an ale . . . ,” Patsy began.

“Sit, Patsy, please. You may serve if that's what pleases you, but first, as host, I would like to make a toast.” We started to stand, but the capt'n motioned us to our seats.

“Oh boy, here it comes!” Miss Oonagh warned. Grady poked her with his elbow.

The capt'n cleared his throat, held his goblet high.

“Often, life can seem rather ruthless. I daresay everyone around this table has suffered some grave loss—the loss of loved ones, of a home, perhaps of a dream, a relationship.”

The room was suddenly very quiet, the ticking of the clock marking the inventory we were all surely taking of the forfeitures we'd faced. It seemed the ghosts of those losses gathered about the table with us—my mother and father, Marni's son, Pru's brothers, Walter's mother and father, Miss Oonagh's Daniel, Old Peader's homestead. And, of course, the wife and daughter Capt'n Adams had lost all those years ago while away at sea. The capt'n waited. “Therefore, first I toast to all that's been taken from us, because we've been defined by what we've loved and let go of. And, it is, in many ways, our losses that have brought us together.”

A lump grew in my throat. Marni fingered her locket. Annie, Walter, and Georgie held hands. A tear trickled down Old Peader's face.

“Let's get t' the good part already!” Miss Oonagh cackled, the heaviness of the moment lifted.

“So, I toast to a bright future,” the capt'n continued, “to the hope life affords, to the power of love to restore and renew us.”

“Here it comes!” Miss Oonagh shrilled.

“Yes, here it comes, indeed.” The capt'n's eyes twinkled, and he walked around to the opposite side of the table, stopping beside Addie. “Miss Addie, here in the midst of all those we both have come to love and treasure, I have something to ask of you. As a man who's been around the world and back, I see life as a journey.” He dropped to one knee and took Addie's hand in his. “Would you travel on with me, as my first mate?” Her free hand flew to her mouth and tears sprung from her eyes. The capt'n's eyes brimmed as well. “What I'm asking is for you to be my wife. Addie, sweet, will you marry me?”

She flew to her feet and threw her arms around the capt'n, upsetting the glass of wine he still held in one hand. Suddenly both their faces disappeared in a long and passionate kiss.

Addie came up for air, turned to all of us, and shouted, “Yes, I'll be 'is first mate and wife, I will! Yes!”

We jumped to our feet, clapping, shouting congratulations, making our way to Addie and the capt'n, surrounding them in a huge collective embrace.

“Wait!” the capt'n shouted. “There's one more thing that needs doing!”

Miss Oonagh interrupted. “What needs doin' is passin' the ham and taters!”

“We'll get to that, I assure you!” Capt'n took Addie's hand, brought it to his lips, lowered it, and slipped a beautiful sapphire-and-diamond ring on her finger. She held it out to a chorus of
ooh
s and
ahh
s.

“Back t' yer seats so's we can drink t' the happy couple!” Patsy said. We took our places, lifted our glasses, and drank to Addie and the capt'n. “And now, in honor of me sister and future brother-in-law, I'll serve the engagement supper, I will!” Patsy announced.

“Hallelujah!” Miss Oonagh exclaimed as Patsy heaped the old woman's plate. The dinner erupted in a flurry of happy conversation. In seconds we were digging in, enjoying the delicious hearty fare, everything on our plates that much more delectable for the occasion it marked.

As I swabbed a piece of soda bread across a trail of gravy, cleaning off my plate, a flash of light caught my eye. Annie's mouth full of mashed potatoes dropped open and she pointed her fork at me. In all the excitement we'd forgotten about the antidote!

I gave Pru a kick under the table and nodded toward the blinking beacon under the cupboard. Her eyes opened wide as she pushed back her chair and stood. “Shall we retire to the parlor?” she suggested. “Come, come . . .”

“Well, I ain't cleared the plates and such,” Patsy protested.

“Oh, I can't allow you to do that,” Pru improvised. “Not after all the work you've already done. No. Lucy, Annie, and I insist on doing that for you. You can serve up some of that famous Bushmill's whiskey while we clean up.”

“I'm all fer that!” Miss Oonagh chimed.

“All right then,” Patsy agreed. “'Preciate it, I do. Into the parlor!”

With that, the group filed into the next room, Pru shooed the dogs along with them and secured the door while I removed the two queen cards from my pocket. “Are you two ready?”

“Were born ready, the both of us,” the jowly-faced queen of diamonds quipped.

“Indeed,” the sleek pirate queen concurred.

“Annie,” Pru said. “Here. Go ahead.”

Pru and I stood back as Annie approached the cupboard. She dropped to her belly and spoke softly.

“Nessa . . . Nessa . . . it's me, Annie.”

Nothing.

“I've got the magic cards. Come out.”

Again, not a buzz or a flash of light. Annie turned and looked over her shoulder at us.

I whispered, “Try again. . . . ”

“Nessa,” she began. “I brought
two
cards so you can pick the one you like better!
Queen
cards! You get to pick between two queens!”

A sudden blink. Then another.
Twoqueens!Ohgoodie
!ButfirstIwanttoseethemagic!

A small flutter, and the clever sprite's face appeared.
Showme!Comeon!Showme!

“First you have to present the antidote, re­member?”

You'rebeingmeanandselfish!

Annie replied, “Oh no, I'm not. You're just impatient. The antidote!”

Ohallright!

In a fluster she disappeared. A moment later she pushed a small, heart-shaped vial across the threshold of the cupboard. Annie reached for it.

Ohno!Don'tyoutouchituntilIseethemagiccards!

I took the cards from Pru and stepped forward. “Okay,” I whispered to the queens. “It's your magic contest!” The two cards swooped into a loop-de-loop of flight, dancing in midair. Nessa, who'd been watching from beneath the cupboard, flitted out and, in a flash, took to flight. The three zipped and whizzed in a frenzy of acrobatic antics.