Page 86 of Whale Harbor

“The whale?” Immediately, he was disarmed. “The whale that washed up? I do, of course.”

“Would you believe some of our brothers don’t remember?”

Rian looked almost amused. “Which? Seamus was only a baby so he wouldn’t—”

“Barry!” Mac said. “I’m talking about Barry.”

“What? How? It was a big to-do. And also it was right around the same time—”

“I know. It’s very odd.”

A waitress squeezed by them with a tray of heaped plates, apologizing even though they were the ones blocking her way. Mac looked at Rian as if to ask, Will you really not sit back down? But Rian was always so stubborn.

“What about your daughter? Maybe she’d like to meet her grandfather.”

“Why?” Rian asked.

“Why? Because he’s her father’s father. He’s her family.”

Something in Rian seemed to bend a little. Mac could see he didn’t know what to do.

“Look,” Mac said. “I’m not going to keep you. But now that I’ve seen you’re all right, can I call once in a while? Or send you a letter? My girls are always after me to set up an email address. Do you do email? I could send you news about the rest of them.” Mac braced for him to say he didn’t want news about the rest of them, but Rian just stood there, saying nothing.

“How’s Coleman?” he asked eventually. “I’ve wondered about him the most.”

“He’s fine. He’s very happy. He’s still in the Cuan and everyone looks out for him.”

“He had a beautiful voice,” Rian said. “I think of him when I see them people on TV winning contests and their voices not nearly as good.”

“He still has a beautiful voice.”

MAC UNDERSTOOD RIAN’S POSITION AND didn’t try to talk him into any other. Still, he worried about how he’d tell Cathal, after he had traveled all that way. But it turned out the old man was wiser than any of them ever gave him credit for. When Mac returned to the motel, he and Mary were once again on the plastic chairs, and with one look at Mac Cathal said it was fine, absolutely fine, thank god he was alive and he was okay, that’s all he ever wanted to know.

If they had longer, Mac explained. If they had longer, maybe he could be convinced, but the shock of it, no, it would take too long, but anyway it certainly meant something that they’d come and that would sink in, and who knew? Maybe his daughter would—

“Did you see her? She’s another Mary Joyce.”

“No,” Mac said. “She lives with her mother. That’s why he’s stayed in Butte so long.”

“So he’s a good father. He’s good to her,” Cathal said.

“Oh yes,” Mac said, but thought, How would I know?

“Does she know about us?” Cathal asked.

“I don’t know,” Mac said.

“Does she know who she was named for?”

“I don’t know,” Mac said again, opening his hands as if to say he could only cover so much ground. And it had been careful, careful work.

Later, while Cathal was resting, he and Mary walked down to the pool.

“So?” Mary asked. “Tell the truth. Did he seem all right to you?”

“Ah,” Mac said. “Who can tell in such a short time. And he was caught by surprise.”

“But what does your gut tell you?”