Page 84 of Whale Harbor

“Hey,” Mary said, feeling defensive.

“You’re bossy too,” Cathal said.

“You want to do something?” Mary asked. “There are brochures in the lobby for van tours. Might as well since you came all this way, right?”

“I’ll stay right where I am, thank you, but you should go off and have fun. I’ll be perfectly all right.”

Mary knew she shouldn’t leave him alone, and she knew she shouldn’t say so because he’d only argue. She’d love to take a little peek into Yellowstone, just to say she was there, but she’d better just sit by the pool until her father returned. She’d go for a walk around Bozeman when Cathal napped. She wondered if Martin Lee’s son still lived in Montana and if he was seeing someone or what. He was so cute when they were in high school and the Lees visited. She hoped Rian was being kind to her dad.

“Look at that,” Cathal said, pointing. “I didn’t know there were magpies in America.” A magpie was pecking at the grass outside the motel office, its long, iridescent tail regal in the sun. Mary pointed out another, a short distance away.

“Does that count as a sighting of two, or two instances of one?” Cathal asked.

“Why?” Mary asked. “What’s the difference?”

“Two,” Cathal decided, without explanation. “Two. Let’s decide we saw them both at once.”

THE HOUSE WAS EXACTLY AS Martin described, including the blue planter, except now there were little flowers sown. Mac considered what he’d say during the drive, but it was pointless. He had to see what Rian was like and go from there.

He parked on the street right in front of the house. There wasn’t much action in the neighborhood for such a nice morning. He walked up the short path. He had just lifted his fist to knock on the door when from the side of the house a man emerged, pulling a garden hose behind him.

“Can I help you?” the man asked, the timbre of his voice even more familiar than his face, which was a version of Mac’s own. And then he shaded his eyes with his hand and said, “Oh.” He took a step back.

“An aithníonn tú mé?” Mac asked.

“I do,” Rian said. “Macdara.”

Rian dropped the hose and approached slowly, cautiously, not taking his eyes from Mac’s face. “Long time.”

“A very long time,” Mac said. Something welled in him and he felt short of breath, a sensation he hadn’t had in many years.

“I had a feeling,” Rian said. “After seeing Martin Lee. I was afraid it would be Cathal who’d show up here.”

“Funny you should say that,” Mac said.

RIAN SAID HE HAD NOTHING to offer in his house but he had time to go to the diner if Mac wanted. Had he had his breakfast yet? He only had about an hour before he had to be at work.

“An hour is fine,” Mac said. Mac waited outside while Rian changed and hoped in the few minutes it took he wouldn’t change his mind. An hour. It seemed like a luxurious amount of time and also nothing. How much ground could they cover in an hour?

“Should I ride with you or—?”

“Just follow me in your car. I’ll have to go straight to the Pit.”

“All right,” Mac said. On the short drive he felt certain that Rian would make a sudden turn and speed away. He looked older than he was. He looked like a person who’d been living hard.

“So,” Rian said as soon as they sat. “Here you are.”

“Here I am.”

“Why’d you come?”

“What do you mean? To see you.”

Rian nodded. “How are you yourself? You’re doing all right?”

“I’m fine,” Mac said. It didn’t seem right, yet, to share details of family and work, their home.

“Good,” Rian said. “That’s good.” He looked out the window. “I’m glad to see you, Mac. I’m glad to see you looking well. You look different but also the same. Is it the same for you when you look at me?”