Chapter 7
SEAMUS
“Seamus.” The word was whispered, but I knew my name had never sounded better. It turned from something I never thought of to something sweet and good.
“Seamus!”
My eyes flickered, and in a wallop, I remembered where I was and who I’d found on my back porch.
She was staring right at me.
My stomach jolted. I sat upright.
Chelsea had gotten out of the hammock and was on her feet, leaning against the post it was hooked to, across from me. I’d turned a light on inside before sitting out here and it cast her in a warm glow, alighting her unbandaged cheekbone; her shoulder, the curve of her breast…
I rubbed my eyes with my fingertips, feeling slightly woozy. “I didn’t mean—I fell asleep.”
“Join the club,” she said. Then Chelsea stepped down to the ground and sat on the porch, leaning against the pole. She looked down. “I’m sorry I just turned up here. Kind of weird, I know. I didn’t mean to trespass.”
“You could have hung out inside if you wanted. I don’t lock my doors.”
I don’t know why I said that, even if it was true.
No one ever came up here. I didn’t lock my truck, either.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Behind her, the girls clucked.
They needed food. My stomach growled. I did too.
I dropped my hand back down. “What are you doing here, Chelsea? Is Eli going to come and knock me out again?”
She smiled, and something twinged inside of me. I had to look away, out to the stars above the tree line. How long had I been passed out?
“He doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not really sure what I’m doing here. I guess… well, I got discharged from the hospital today and the prospect of going home, my siblings everywhere… it was too much.”
She must have seen the question on my face—why here?
“Yesterday, when I came here, and when I stood out there,”—she looked toward the ridge—“I felt like I could breathe. It’s as if this place is at the end of the world, and that’s where I feel like I am now.”
Something went tight inside of me. I’d never articulated the thought before, but I knew that was exactly how I felt about this place.
It was why I was so comfortable here. Unless I was swinging a hammer or a baseball bat on the field, I always felt like I was standing on the periphery of life, looking in at everyone else enjoying themselves.
That’s what this place was. Far in the outer reaches. Of town, of the road. Of everything.
“Yeah,” I said after a moment. “I understand.”
She gestured out toward the ridge. “Would it be okay if I went out there? I just… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Is that okay?”
You can go anywhere you want here, Chelsea. I’m at your mercy.
“It’s my favorite place to look at the stars,” I said. Then embarrassment shot through me.
But she didn’t blink. “Well, I guess you better come with me then.”
I considered her a moment, then got up, flicking on the string lights running the length of the porch.
Then Chelsea Kelly and I walked across my grassy field to the ridge through the trees.
It was dark out here, the only light coming from the moon casting a silvery light across the trees and over the shape of the woman walking next to me, her footsteps quiet in the grass.
Yesterday I’d seen her wince when she walked, so I kept my stride at half-length, allowing her to take her time.
When we got to the edge, I saw the way her eyes took in the grassy space down below.
“Here,” I said, holding out my hand.
But I saw in the pale moonlight hitting her face that she was still in pain. It didn’t look as bad as yesterday—presumably because she was wearing sneakers—but it still looked painful.
She reached her hand out and placed her hand in mine. It was smooth and warm, and heat spread up my skin at her touch.
I didn’t know how long she was going to be here, or if she’d ever come back, but I couldn’t make anything out of it.
I knew she probably wasn’t lying when she said she wanted to get away from her family.
I loved the Kelly’s, but they were a lot.
I didn’t know how I’d cope with four siblings, especially when they were all older.
Kevin used to tell me what to do, but I couldn’t remember it being annoying now.
I could hardly remember anything of our life together before he died.
Everything was eclipsed by the memory of the end.
When we reached the bottom of the path, I pulled my hand away, but Chelsea grasped harder. “Don’t,” she whispered. “I don’t trust myself not to fall.”
My stomach jumped, but I readjusted so her whole hand fit in mine. “I’ve got you.”
If she looked up, I couldn’t tell—I was training my eyes toward the edge of this clearing, where we were walking to. I pulled her to a stop a few feet from the edge. Here, there was no obstruction to our view.
“Can we sit for a minute?” Chelsea asked. Then, without waiting, she lowered herself to the grass. I felt the loss of her hand like an ache.
I sat down next to her, leaning my arms across my raised knees.
The moon cast a glimmering line across the Quince River. To the right, lights twinkled in town; and in the distance, I could hear the soft rumble of cars.
“We’re spoiled by this place,” she said after a moment. “Quince Valley, I mean.”
She was right. I’d thought about it over the years. Anytime I traveled anywhere and came home again, I thought about how no matter how much beauty I saw out there, this was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.
And the most painful.
“Chelsea,” I said. “Why are you really here?”
“I told you, I just wanted peace and quiet.”
“But you could have gone anywhere for that. Down by the river. In the woods by your place.”
She kept her eyes trained on the valley but sat up, resting her hands in her lap. “Seamus… what really happened that night?”
I don’t know if I was expecting that or not. I supposed some part of me was, because the answer came easy. “I saw you downtown, about to get in a car with your friend. You were both…”
“Drunk.”
“Yeah.”
She looked at me, and something sparked, hard and hot. I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. I knew that now.
“I know that part,” she said. “What happened after? In the truck. Before we got hit.”
My stomach churned. “You were drunk, Chelsea.”
She didn’t say anything. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I knew she was waiting for me to fill the gap. She’d be waiting forever. I was fine with long silences.
But it wasn’t me who filled it with the truth then, it was her.
“I came onto you, didn’t I?”
I considered lying anyway, even though she’d know. So we could pretend it wasn’t true. But I was sent back to that moment. Her sitting so close to me, like she was now. Her hand, slipping onto me. The scent of her—tropical shampoo mixed with the booze on her breath.
The feelings—fuck the feelings. Wanting it so badly and knowing how badly it would turn out.
I turned away from her, looking down at my feet. I needed a shower. A shave. Dinner. I needed to be anywhere but here. But I also didn’t want to be anywhere else, even in the depths of this awkwardness.
“Yes,” I said bluntly, after a moment. “But I know it didn’t mean anything.”
“Did anything happen?”
“No.”
“So you turned me down?”
Did I say no? Did I just try to put her off? Or had I encouraged her to keep going, even by just not saying stop?
I ran my hand over my face, making my lip twang.
The sharp jolt of pain helped kick some sense into me.
“You were drunk, Chelsea. I was taking you home. Nothing happened between us because some asshole hit us, and you went flying out of the fucking car and I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t see it coming.”
When I looked back up, Chelsea’s eyes were on mine. “I’m sorry I put you in that position, Seamus. I never should have crossed that line. It’s a thing I did. It’s a way… for me to not feel.”
The words, which should have been reassuring, somehow stung.
I realized then that at least some part of me had wanted her to feel something for me.
To think I was different than the others.
But I wasn’t, was I? I was just another guy, thinking I was special while knowing I wasn’t.
Hell, she probably wasn’t even attracted to me.
I knew how it was. One too many drinks and anyone will do.
“I get it,” I said. I did get it. It was the only way I ever got close to anyone. Got a few beers past the possibility of feeling anything.
Anyway, this was for the best. It was good she never felt anything—this was Eli’s sister.
Even if she wasn’t, she had demons to deal with.
Things to work out for herself without some guy with a hard-on trying to insert himself into her life.
The more I thought about it, the shittier I felt that I’d even reacted to her attention.
That I’d wanted it so fucking bad.
I moved to stand up, but Chelsea beat me to it. “I should go,” she said. She pulled out her phone, as if to check the time. Then she grimaced in the glow of the screen.
“Eli’s been texting. He’s worse than my dad.”
I wondered, briefly, what was up with her and her dad. I knew Eli was pissed at him for taking off the way he had. But before I could say anything, she tapped her screen and held the phone up to her ear.
She wasn’t—
“Hey, Eli, I—”
Eli’s voice burst tinnily from the speaker as she held her phone away from her head. She put it back. “Eli, would you stop? I’m fine. I just needed some space.”
She didn’t tell him she was coming here. Did she tell anyone?
More muffled words from Eli.
“I’m…” she hesitated, her eyes roving the ground as if looking for an answer there. Then she lifted them, meeting mine. “I’m at Seamus’s place.”
My stomach plunged, even though of course I hadn’t expected her to lie to him. But what was I worried about? It wasn’t like I’d asked her to come over. She’d shown up on my porch. In my hammock.
I hadn’t not liked it.
There was a long pause on the phone. Then Eli said something else I couldn’t hear.
“Fine!” she said. I saw the heat flare in her eyes.
Then Chelsea thrust her phone at me. “He wants to talk to you.”
Our fingers brushed as I took it from her, sending sparks up my hand. Just nerves.
“Hey Eli.”
“Seamus, what the absolute fuck is my sister doing at your place?”