Banish Me

To Blame or Not To Blame

Peter came up the stairs and sat down next to me, waiting.

“Hello?”

Steven’s voice came in clear, his accent making me smile.

“Hey there stranger.”

“Cass? Is that you?” I heard him click off the TV. “How are you, love?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Good. Everyone misses you here. They often ask after you. I keep telling them you haven’t called yet but now I can say something else.”

I smiled and looked down. “That’s nice. How are things there?”

“Oh you know, the same. Mrs. McInish still sits on her front porch, yelling at the kids as they run down the street.”

“Yeah, I don’t think she’ll ever stop doing that.”

He laughed, really laughed. There was nothing fake about it. “She was doing it when I was a kid.” He let out a breath. “So…love, how are you really?”

I paused for a second, not really wanting to answer that question. “It’s…not easy.”

“I would imagine not. How’s that bastard of a father of yours? Has he seen fit to come around?”

My mother didn’t talk nice about my father to anyone.

“Yes, he’s actually in the other room.”

Steven started talking in Gaelic. I listened to the whole rant without interrupting him. I hadn’t spoken in the language since I left Ireland and I wasn’t planning on doing it now. It reminded me too much of my mother. I was having a hard time as it was without intentional reminders.

“Are you done?” I asked.

He grumbled, undesirable noises until he said, “Aye, I’m done.”

“Good because I have a question for you.”

“Oh lord, god have mercy. What is it?”

“I need a favor. A ghost came to me, told me something I don’t think is true.”

“Huh…well, love, you know how it is. They say what they want, so what they want, until they’re satisfied and go away.”

“I know but he said something about máthair.”

Peter looked at me funny but I just shook my head.

“Ah. That can be tricky. What did the igit say?”

“That she was burning. Has anything happened up at the cemetery?”

“Nah. Not that I know of. It’s been quiet, the youngin’s haven’t had any mischief up there in months.”

“Can you do me a favor and check for me?”

“Ghost got you rattled, love?”

“You could say that. Some things have happened and I just want to make sure…”

“I understand. Máthair is god in the eyes of their child.”

I tried not to smile when he said that. When I got here, Garin made me watch Silent Hill with him and one of the characters in the movie said it. Of course, I’d heard it since I was a little girl.

“Call me back tomorrow? Tell me what you find?”

“Aye, lass. You’re, what, six hours behind?”

“Five.”

“I’ll ring you in the morning.”

“Thank you, Steven.”

“Blah, blah. I have to go that ways anyway.”

We said goodbye and I started down at the phone for a few minutes. Peter slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me over so I could lean against him. I wasn’t going to cry. I knew this would be an ok moment to cry but god damn it I wasn’t going to.

“He seems nice.

A laugh bubbled up and I turned to look at him.

“Oh he is.”

Peter grinned. “Nice accent.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes. When I moved here, my accent was extremely thick but it was trickling away as every day passed.

“Shut up.” I wrapped my arms around him. “I was horrible, wasn’t I?”

He chuckled, the noise resounding in his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone talk to my mother like that other than my father.”

“She probably really hates me now.”

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks.”

He moved so he was resting against the balusters, his one leg bent while the other extended down the stairs. I was settled in between, one of his hands covered mine in my lap.

“You don’t mind that she hates me?”

“It should only matter if I’m happy and I am. She won’t interfere unless that changes.”

I looked up at him. “Good.” I kissed his chin and smiled.

The smile that spread across his face told me what he was thinking. He tipped his face down and kissed me, the whole think bittersweet after the conversation I just had on the phone.

My mother didn’t live long enough to see me happy…with anyone. What my father said came to mind, about both me and her flying here, away from Ireland and the man that would kill her. My imagination spun out of control, thinking about what that would be like.

Would I’ve met Peter? Would everything be different?

Peter squeezed my hand and touched my face with the other which ran behind my head. He kissed me harder, the intensity cranking up just a tad.

“I think they’re on the stairs,” Gwen said very loudly.

That was out queue to stop. Someone was coming to find us and if it was my father, we’d both be in trouble.

And sure enough. “Cassie!” my father called my name from down the hall.

I smiled at Peter sheepishly and looked in the direction my father’s voice had come.

“Right here, Dad.”

He stopped at the bottom step. “Ready to look at those houses now?”

“Houses?” Peter said.

“Yes, houses. I’ve picked out a few I thought she might like.”

“What about your old house? I think it’s up for sale again.”

I looked between the two, finding it absolutely fascinating how easy Peter back burnered what we’d just been doing and how nice my father was being to him.

My father’s smile widened. “I know. I picked that one too.”

Peter smiled and nodded. He looked down at me and waited for me to make up my mind. I just chuckled and shook my head.

“Sure. Why not?”