Emerald Isle: Terry/Tom
Apr. 7th, 2006 10:52 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsIt's a quiet morning in the keep for Terry. Until her past comes looking for her and turns the world on its ear.
Sean was off at the shop someplace and the last tour group had left the day before, taking with them their curious stares and incessant photography. The Keep drew its fair share of gawkers, people seeking ‘authentic’ Ireland, as though it wasn’t all around them every moment. Terry didn’t mind indulging their curiosity, even if she thought it stupid. But she was happier to sit at the kitchen table, sipping her tea, with the knowledge that she was quite alone. In the other room, the radio played cheerfully, just loud enough for it to carry perfectly to her ears. She hummed along, tapping her bare foot to the rhythm.
There was a soft chuckle from the kitchen door. “Now there’s a pretty sight,” a deep male voice – not Sean’s – said. “Worth waiting for the tourists to leave.”
She knew that voice. Except that it was impossible for it to be here. Terry turned in her chair to gape at the kitchen door, expecting to see…she wasn’t sure. Not the dark haired man with the roguish grin. That should have been impossible. Her mouth fell open but nothing came out, even her breath seemed halted in her chest. After an eternity, she trembled and got slowly to her feet. ”...Uncle Tom?”
“Hello, lass.” The grin grew. “Did yeh miss me?”
“What are yeh doing here?” she choked, taking a step forward then halting in confusion. This couldn’t be real. It was…wishful thinking. A vivid dream conjured by her being home again.
“Now, Terry, what do yeh think I’m doing?” Tom Cassidy saw the uncertain way she was looking at him and deliberately came forward into the room, chucking her under the chin as a way of proving that yes, he was flesh and blood. “I’m here to see my girl,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “But Sweet Mother Mary, how yeh’ve grown… I came to see my Terry, but who’s this lovely young woman?”
“Uncle Tom!” With the proof that he was indeed real, she flung herself at him whole-heartedly, clinging to his neck, tears already welling up in her eyes and choking her throat. As his arms came around her, crushing her in his strong grip, it was like no time had passed at all. She was suddenly 10 again and everything was going to be all right, no matter what was wrong. She pulled back slightly, tears just starting to track down her cheeks. “Look at yeh, big as life. How did yeh get here?”
“Well, there I was, out on the road again, and when I stopped to think of who I most wanted to see now, yeh were the first name on my list.” He set her back down on her feet gently. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that I wasn’t going to have to be making a long plane trip across the wide ocean after all.”
Terry laughed, scrubbing at her cheeks. She couldn’t seem to stop grinning. “But…yeh’re here. I don’t understand. Were yeh paroled or…” She knew his sentence down to the day—had tracked it on a calendar for years before giving it up not too long ago.
Tom ruffled her hair, still smiling. “I’ve been a good lad,” he said easily, “and so here I am, breathing the free air again. Yeh’d think it was fate – just this very week, and here yeh are.”
“Aye, so t’is, so t’is.” She shook her head, still half in shock. “Sit, why don’t yeh? Hungry at all, we’re a bit low as Sean’s not back from the shops yet but I can find yeh something…” She hugged him again suddenly, “I’ve missed yeh so much. It was horrible.”
“I’ve missed yeh too,” Tom said, leading her gently towards the table. “Although yeh needn’t go to any trouble to feed me. I thought yeh and I could go for a bit of a drive, maybe.” His eyes flickered around the kitchen, and for a moment, there was something just slightly twisted about the smile. “I find I’ve got a powerful need for the open air today, lass.”
Terry grinned, “Aye, sure I’d love that.” She ran her hand through her hair and laughed, “I’ve been feeling the same way myself. Let me just get my bag and put some shoes on then I’ll dash off a note for Sean so he doesn’t get cranky at me.” The sudden feeling that something was wrong made her stop for a moment but she shrugged it away. Just the inevitable tension when Sean and Tom met again. Leaving was probably best just so they didn’t get in a brawl. “Did yeh have a destination in mind?”
“Nowhere in particular,” Tom said, and the edge to the smile was gone all at once and his eyes were warm again. “It’s a lovely day out there. We should see where the road takes us – but why don’t yeh leave the note now, Terry,” he suggested lightly, “and then I can be starting the car while yeh get your things.”
“Oh, aye, that’s makes sense.” Terry grabbed a notepad off the counter and dashed off a couple of lines explaining that Tom had been released, they were going for a drive and they’d be back for supper. She hesitated over the signature finally settling on a smiley face and her name. “I’ll be right back then,” she said cheerfully, handing it to him then dashing away.
Once she was gone, Tom, smiling, tore the page off the notepad, folding it, and stuck it in the inside pocket of his coat. “And I’ll start the car, then,” he murmured to himself.
~*~
"With memory set smarting like a reopened wound, a man's past is not simply a dead history, an outworn preparation of the present: it is not a repented error shaken loose from the life: it is a still quivering part of himself, bringing shudders and bitter flavors and the tinglings of a merited shame."
-- George Eliot
Sean was off at the shop someplace and the last tour group had left the day before, taking with them their curious stares and incessant photography. The Keep drew its fair share of gawkers, people seeking ‘authentic’ Ireland, as though it wasn’t all around them every moment. Terry didn’t mind indulging their curiosity, even if she thought it stupid. But she was happier to sit at the kitchen table, sipping her tea, with the knowledge that she was quite alone. In the other room, the radio played cheerfully, just loud enough for it to carry perfectly to her ears. She hummed along, tapping her bare foot to the rhythm.
There was a soft chuckle from the kitchen door. “Now there’s a pretty sight,” a deep male voice – not Sean’s – said. “Worth waiting for the tourists to leave.”
She knew that voice. Except that it was impossible for it to be here. Terry turned in her chair to gape at the kitchen door, expecting to see…she wasn’t sure. Not the dark haired man with the roguish grin. That should have been impossible. Her mouth fell open but nothing came out, even her breath seemed halted in her chest. After an eternity, she trembled and got slowly to her feet. ”...Uncle Tom?”
“Hello, lass.” The grin grew. “Did yeh miss me?”
“What are yeh doing here?” she choked, taking a step forward then halting in confusion. This couldn’t be real. It was…wishful thinking. A vivid dream conjured by her being home again.
“Now, Terry, what do yeh think I’m doing?” Tom Cassidy saw the uncertain way she was looking at him and deliberately came forward into the room, chucking her under the chin as a way of proving that yes, he was flesh and blood. “I’m here to see my girl,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “But Sweet Mother Mary, how yeh’ve grown… I came to see my Terry, but who’s this lovely young woman?”
“Uncle Tom!” With the proof that he was indeed real, she flung herself at him whole-heartedly, clinging to his neck, tears already welling up in her eyes and choking her throat. As his arms came around her, crushing her in his strong grip, it was like no time had passed at all. She was suddenly 10 again and everything was going to be all right, no matter what was wrong. She pulled back slightly, tears just starting to track down her cheeks. “Look at yeh, big as life. How did yeh get here?”
“Well, there I was, out on the road again, and when I stopped to think of who I most wanted to see now, yeh were the first name on my list.” He set her back down on her feet gently. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that I wasn’t going to have to be making a long plane trip across the wide ocean after all.”
Terry laughed, scrubbing at her cheeks. She couldn’t seem to stop grinning. “But…yeh’re here. I don’t understand. Were yeh paroled or…” She knew his sentence down to the day—had tracked it on a calendar for years before giving it up not too long ago.
Tom ruffled her hair, still smiling. “I’ve been a good lad,” he said easily, “and so here I am, breathing the free air again. Yeh’d think it was fate – just this very week, and here yeh are.”
“Aye, so t’is, so t’is.” She shook her head, still half in shock. “Sit, why don’t yeh? Hungry at all, we’re a bit low as Sean’s not back from the shops yet but I can find yeh something…” She hugged him again suddenly, “I’ve missed yeh so much. It was horrible.”
“I’ve missed yeh too,” Tom said, leading her gently towards the table. “Although yeh needn’t go to any trouble to feed me. I thought yeh and I could go for a bit of a drive, maybe.” His eyes flickered around the kitchen, and for a moment, there was something just slightly twisted about the smile. “I find I’ve got a powerful need for the open air today, lass.”
Terry grinned, “Aye, sure I’d love that.” She ran her hand through her hair and laughed, “I’ve been feeling the same way myself. Let me just get my bag and put some shoes on then I’ll dash off a note for Sean so he doesn’t get cranky at me.” The sudden feeling that something was wrong made her stop for a moment but she shrugged it away. Just the inevitable tension when Sean and Tom met again. Leaving was probably best just so they didn’t get in a brawl. “Did yeh have a destination in mind?”
“Nowhere in particular,” Tom said, and the edge to the smile was gone all at once and his eyes were warm again. “It’s a lovely day out there. We should see where the road takes us – but why don’t yeh leave the note now, Terry,” he suggested lightly, “and then I can be starting the car while yeh get your things.”
“Oh, aye, that’s makes sense.” Terry grabbed a notepad off the counter and dashed off a couple of lines explaining that Tom had been released, they were going for a drive and they’d be back for supper. She hesitated over the signature finally settling on a smiley face and her name. “I’ll be right back then,” she said cheerfully, handing it to him then dashing away.
Once she was gone, Tom, smiling, tore the page off the notepad, folding it, and stuck it in the inside pocket of his coat. “And I’ll start the car, then,” he murmured to himself.
~*~
"With memory set smarting like a reopened wound, a man's past is not simply a dead history, an outworn preparation of the present: it is not a repented error shaken loose from the life: it is a still quivering part of himself, bringing shudders and bitter flavors and the tinglings of a merited shame."
-- George Eliot
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