The Memory of Us: A Novel (23 page)

Chapter Twenty

The counter of the reception desk at the Menai Bank Hotel was arrayed with colorful pages advertising local sites. The brochure for Caernarfon showed pictures of the immense historic castle that was a short drive from our hotel. Roman ruins could be found nearby at Segontium. Viking ruins were in Beaumaris. We saw none of these.

When we finally emerged from the hotel into the bustling town, it was late afternoon on our last full day. The sky was the kind of gray that heralded an impending dusk, and the sun began its descent by sending out orange cascades to line the clouds. We walked hand in hand to the bank of the Afon Seiont and found the rowboat rental that had been recommended by the hotel owner.

“Are you Brecon?” Kyle said to the grizzled man who sat on a whitewashed pier.

“Ie,”
he said.

“Good, then. We’d like to take a row on the river before it gets dark.”

“That’s the only one I have right now,” he said, pointing to a small white vessel to his right. The rowboat needed a coat of paint but looked to be waterworthy. In blue letters on the back, the name
Aberfa
was printed. “But she’s a good girl.”

Kyle handed over the named amount and held my hands as I stepped in. Brecon gave her a shove and we glided out, barely missing some fishing boats on either side. Kyle didn’t speak while he looked over his shoulder and navigated the narrow passage. I was impressed that my husband could maneuver it so ably.

When we had cleared the banks and entered the wider body of the river, he relaxed.

“Stretch out your legs, Julianne,” he said.

“Won’t they be in your way?”

“Has any man ever minded the legs of a beautiful woman being next to him?”

I blushed. “Kyle McCarthy, you say such things.”

“And I will say them forever, Mrs. McCarthy.”

I grinned at the delight of my new name.

We rowed past attached homes painted a myriad of colors to distinguish their borders. Their roofs displayed various shades of red, which were really the reflection of the sun’s setting rays. We passed fishing boats and recreational boats, lingering picnickers on the banks, and in the distance we could see Caernarfon Castle and the hills behind it. It was beautiful, but Kyle and I still existed in that newlywed state where the wonders surrounding us couldn’t begin to compete with the gaze of the person in front of me.

“I found a place to go to Mass in the morning,” he said. “Saint Monica’s. I can slip out early and let you sleep. Then we can eat breakfast and head back home.”

I turned my head and couldn’t speak.

“What’s the matter, Julianne?” He stopped rowing.

I tilted my chin down to my chest. Kyle leaned forward and we both shifted to maintain our balance. He reached out his hand.

“You don’t want to think about tomorrow, do you?”

I pursed my lips and shook my head.

“My darling, you don’t have to worry about anything. We’re a team now. There’s nothing you’ll have to go through alone.”

I looked up at him. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to my parents. I don’t have any idea how they’re going to receive me. I wish we could just forget Liverpool and go straight to London.”

He squeezed my hand. “I know this is going to be difficult for you. But don’t let it spoil these last few hours.” He put his hand around my face and drew it nearer. He placed a delicate kiss on my lips and said, “I love you. No matter what, you can count on that. Nothing can change how I feel.”

I nodded and smiled, and the tears that had come to my eyes refracted the light of the setting sun. We didn’t speak again as he turned the
Aberfa
around and returned her to her owner.

The next morning I woke up after only a couple hours of sleep. I had taken Kyle’s advice not to let thoughts of today detract from the time we had and seen to it that we didn’t let it go to waste. I was hungry, but I noticed that Kyle was already awake and lacing his shoes.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m heading out to Saint Monica’s for Mass, remember? I wanted to let you sleep.” He came over and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll go with you if you can give me a minute. But can we have breakfast first?”

“I can’t, love. Fasting.”

I sat up, pulled the sheet over me, and started brushing my hair with my fingers. “What do you mean?”

“It means that I can’t eat before going to Mass.”

“Why not?”

“It’s one of the rules. The physical hunger we feel is supposed to call to mind the spiritual hunger we should have for our Communion.”

“OK. I’ll just take your word for that. There’s a lot I don’t understand, Kyle.”

“You don’t have to. You have a lifetime to learn about it. And only if you want to. I’m not making any demands or asking anything of you.”

“I know. You’ve been good about that. But I want to understand, so I hope you don’t mind if I ask questions.”

“Of course not. Come on.” He put his hands out to mine and pulled me up. The sheet fell from me, and my nakedness was revealed. I walked my fingers up his chest to his shoulder.

“Are you
sure
you want to leave so early?”

He kissed the palms of my hands. “My love, there is nothing I would like more than to stay right where we are, for today and forever. But,” he said, as he let go and turned around, “we do, in fact, need to get back to Liverpool today, so I am going to have to decline.
Very
regretfully decline.”

I jumped up. “Then I’m going with you.”

“Would you like for me to grab a roll for you from the kitchen? You’re not fasting.”

“Thanks, but no. Whatever you do, I’ll do. We’re in this together.”

The church was far less ornate than both the Immaculate Heart of Mary and Saint Stephen’s. The people mainly worked in the fishing trade, and they were adorned as simply as their church. The heads of the women were covered with long lace veils, and I felt self-conscious at not having one. I made a note to ask Kyle to get me one for the future so that I wouldn’t embarrass him.

I was getting used to the Latin, and for the first time I followed along with a missal. It wasn’t as intimidating once the translations were in front of me. The English reminded me of something Shakespearean, with its many
thee
s and
thou
s. The hardest part for me to catch on to was all of the standing, sitting, and kneeling. I tried to follow whatever Kyle was doing but was always, noticeably, a second behind. He told me later that posture was part of prayer—just one more thing that I would have to learn.

We arrived back at the hotel for breakfast, packed our suitcases into the truck, and headed west. With each mile, I found it harder to breathe, anticipating what scene might be waiting for me when I arrived home.

We had the first argument of our marriage, and I hoped our last. Kyle had every intention of going in to speak with the parents of his wife. He felt that they deserved that respect and that I deserved to have my husband by my side through what was undoubtedly going to be a challenging conversation. I knew that he was right. I knew it, but I adamantly refused his assistance. It was a conversation long overdue, and I needed to do it on my own.

Quite reluctantly, he gave in and agreed to meet me by the lake.

As he drove off, it felt as if my heart beat louder than the rumble of the truck. I turned to face our house. The stately brick manor had never looked so intimidating. It had always been home, and yet I realized suddenly that it was no longer my home. I was a married woman, and home for the foreseeable future was going to be our studio flat in London.

I felt guilty but only for the disappointment that I had caused my parents. Not at all for marrying Kyle. If I went in with my head hung, it would look as if I had something for which to be ashamed. Then again, if I held it high, I would appear aloof and uncaring of my parents’ wishes. I decided to carry myself in a way that best relayed what I was feeling and hoped that it would make my intentions apparent. I was neither ashamed nor arrogant. I was a happy bride, and I wanted my parents to share that joy with me.

Taking the key out of my pocket, I opened the latch loudly, hoping to give them notice of my arrival. The door creaked on cue, and I closed it without finesse behind me. Surely, they knew I was here, but no one came out to greet me. I walked around the parlor and through a few other rooms, but they were empty. At last, I looked at the closed doors of my father’s study, with light shining through the seams. He never left lights on unless he was in there.

I knocked gently.

“Come in,” he said, releasing in me a strong wave of déjà vu.

I took a deep, shuddering breath and suddenly wished that Kyle were here after all to steady me. Why hadn’t I listened? Four days in, and I was already failing at marriage.

I opened the heavy wooden door and closed it behind me without yet looking at the figure behind the desk.

Turning around hesitantly, my first impression was that Father had aged ten years in four days. I had expected him to be angry with me, but his expression as he regarded me was one of pure desolation. This would have almost been easier if he had showed some outrage. A part of me felt as if I deserved it.

I walked to one of the chairs across from him and perched upon its edge. This time, he didn’t walk around to join me.

“Papa . . .” I said, using a term that I hadn’t spoken in a decade but feeling suddenly like I wanted nothing more than to climb into his lap and embrace him.

“Julianne.” He used the same tone that I’d heard him use with errant employees.

We sat for a moment at a stalemate, assessing one another and not knowing what to say next. My face tingled as tears formed and rose to the surface. “Papa,” I said again, rising and beginning to move around the massive desk, putting my arms out.

“Have a seat, please.” He pointed to the chair I’d just vacated.

I returned to it and sat with my hands folded in my lap. I twisted my wedding band around and around my finger.

“Where is Mother?” Surely, she knew that I was coming back, as I had stated in my letter that I would be returning this afternoon.

He looked at me, surprised that I even had to ask. “Your mother has decided to visit your aunt in Hereford for a few weeks.”

Without saying it, he was telling me that she did not wish to see me now nor see me off to London in a few days. It was obvious how she felt about this. I clung to the fact that my father had remained. If he had wanted to avoid me, there were many trips he might’ve taken. But he was here, and that had to count for something. I was grateful for this shred of hope.

“You got my letter?” I asked, although that answer, too, was obvious.

“Of course. We found it Thursday afternoon, and I spent the rest of the day driving everywhere I could think of, looking for you. I suppose it was too late by then, though.”

“Yes, Father. We got married at nine, and drove to Anglesey from there.”

He didn’t respond, so I gave him some details about the wedding and the places that we had visited in the last few days. My nervous chatter filled the silence, an empty space that I wanted to avoid at all costs.

Finally, I said, “Father, I’m sorry. At least, I’m so very sorry that I hurt you and Mother. You have to know that it is not what I wanted. But I am not sorry, not even a little, that I married Kyle.”

“And where is Kyle? Don’t you think that at least the young man could come and face me on his own?”

“He wanted to. In fact, he was quite angry with me when I insisted that he let me come here on my own. Please don’t blame him for that. I didn’t give him any choice.”

“He was right to be angry, Julianne. If you think that you are mature enough to get married, then you have to have the maturity to accept what comes with that. Whether I like it or not, Kyle is your husband, and he should be here.”

“You’re right. He was right. I was wrong to send him away.”

“Let me ask you a question. Are you with child? Is that why you did this?”

“Am I
what
? Of course not! What a thing to say.”

“Well, it would just explain this whole thing.”

“No, it wouldn’t. I’ve already told you the explanation. I love Kyle, he loves me, he’s coming to London with me, and we wanted to be married.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy starving, because that’s what will happen there. I’m not going to support you any longer.”

“That’s just fine with me. I know it will be a struggle, but we have plans, and we have each other.”

“Julianne.” He leaned forward. “Look. I am disappointed that you disobeyed me. I am appalled that you married someone that I explicitly disapproved of. But more than that, I am angry. I am angry that you lied to me and did this behind my back.”

“We tried to include you. Kyle came to speak to you. But you didn’t listen.”

“That’s like a wolf telling the hen that he’s going to raid the coop just before he does. Some man you married. He sat in this very room and listened to what I had to say and even seemed to agree, and then has the
audacity
to turn around to do exactly what I forbade. Is that what is passing for a Catholic today? Deception? Manipulation? A fine priest he would have made.” He pounded his fist on the desk so forcefully that the pens rattled in their canister. “But he is no longer the issue. I have always prided myself on our open and honest relationship, and I don’t see how I can trust that anymore.”

No. He could not have just said those words. I was ready for the fight.

“I agree, Father. Open and honest. Which is why you told me about Charles, right?”

His eyes widened just a bit at that name, but his face remained set. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Open and honest. That’s why you have been so forthright in telling me that I have a twin brother.”

His jaw quivered and finally dropped open. “How did you—”

“It doesn’t matter how I know. I just do. It would have been a nice thing to know, growing up. That I wasn’t the only one. It could have been a lot less lonely.”

“You don’t understand. He’s not like you. He’s a very unfortunate boy.”