Running Back

And for the first time, I truly regretted Patrick’s passing. Not because I wished I’d never met Mike, but because I was so, so happy I had. Gratitude and guilt stirred within me. How many other ways it could have gone. I could have been three seasons into an excavation before Mike came to Ireland. What would that have been like? Would I have liked him so much then? If I hadn’t needed him to sign the papers and he hadn’t distrusted me and his friend Rachael hadn’t liked to matchmake, we could have met like two ordinary people and grabbed a drink in a bar. I bet it would have been wonderful—we had the same sense of humor, the same mentality about life—we ran on the same frequency.

But maybe we would have had our drinks and our fun and gone our separate ways after a while, passing with smiling masks like shallow and pleasant neighbors, who never bothered to see past the veneer. We never would have torn off those masks and opened old wounds if we hadn’t been forced.

We danced through three more songs, until I spotted Kate, sitting at a table with Maggie and several other adults.

“It has to be weird for her.”

“Hmm?”

“Your mom. All these people she doesn’t know, but who knew her husband before she did. Like meeting characters out of a fairytale. They weren’t supposed to exist.” I slowed to a stop. “You should ask her to dance.”

“You don’t mind?”

I smiled. “I can always ask Paul.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re hilarious.”

I laughed and handed him off to his mother, whose face lit up. I dropped down at the bar next to Lauren, whose hair poofed out like a cartoon character’s. “I thought you were dancing with Paul.”

She snickered and took a sip of her drink. “Yeah. Verbally. Mentally. Think he hates all of us.” She thumped her beer down on the counter and looked directly at me. “But I like you. You’re good for Mike.”

Was I?

“But he’s still sometimes too much, you know? Like earlier. It’s not his land. So I was thinking.”

A touch of unease crawled up my spine. I turned so I could see Mike. He was smiling at his mother, and I saw her laugh. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Kate O’Connor laugh. “Oh?”

“I was thinking... You can dig Kilkarten.”

A thousand needles pricked my body and I swung back in her direction. “Wait, what? ”

“Anna and I talked it over. If there’s some lost city there, we want it uncovered.”

I gaped at her. “But... I thought it wasn’t a democracy.”

One of her brow’s winged up. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just... Have you talked to Mike? I thought all three of you had to agree.”

“Oh, yeah, that. Well, it is a democracy. It’s not Mike’s decision.”

My heart seemed to be pounding at twice its normal pace. “You can’t make him sign.”

She smiled. “Oh, yes, I can.” She raised an arm and hollered over the pub’s noise. “Mike! Get over here!”

My head whirled even as every second passed in slow motion. I charted Mike’s path toward us with each step he took.

Lauren and Anna wanted me to excavate Kilkarten.

I could see the whole future spread out, a future I’d turned off months ago when Mike first refused to sign. I could see the dig, the discovery, the report. The articles in journals, the news segment I’d dreamed up for mainstream media.

And then I heard Mike’s voice in my head, saying he would never let me excavate Kilkarten, because of “personal reasons.”

Now the real Mike stopped before us, beer in hand, smile on his face. His gaze kept touching mine. “What’s up?”

I placed my hand on Lauren’s arm. My voice came out faint. “Lauren, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

Mike looked back and forth between us. “What’s not a good idea?”

Lauren pushed off her bar stool. “Natalie’s excavating Kilkarten.”

Mike swung a surprised look my way. “No, she isn’t.”

Lauren crossed her arms. “Yeah. She is.”

Mike looked at me. “What’s she talking about? You can’t dig.”

“That’s right.” My head felt like it was floating off. “You said that. But I don’t know why not.”

He stared at me. “Because.”

I beseeched him with my gaze. Because why?

Lauren’s voice was unyielding. “Mike, you’ve been saying ‘because’ since I was fifteen. It’s not going to cut it anymore.”

“Dammit, Lauren!”

Several people looked our way. Anna caught sight of us and hurried over. “What’s going on?”

Mike’s jaw and fists clenched. “I’m not having this conversation here.” He turned and walked out the door.

Lauren’s mouth fell open and then tightened into a white line, and she strode after her brother with clenched fists. Wide-eyed Anna followed in her wake.

I hesitated a moment before also pushing out through the heavy wooden door. While the pub stayed brightly lit, mist hung throughout the rest of the village, and when we stepped onto the path leading back to the inn, the white fog faded out the swaying cypresses and the sea. Goosebumps rose on my exposed skin.

Ahead of me, Lauren caught up with her brother’s longer strides. “You can’t just walk away from this conversation.”

He stopped abruptly and turned back on her, crossing his arms. “It’s not going to happen.”

Lauren mirrored him. “Oh, yes it is.”

“It’s not your choice to make.”

She scoffed. “And who made it yours? Or do you think you have more sway than the two of us? Because I’m pretty sure Anna and I are also on the deed.”

“Nothing happens to the land unless all three of us agree.”

“Or unless we vote.”

Mike’s voice shot up. “This isn’t a fucking democracy!”

Lauren’s fury matched her brother’s. “Yeah? I don’t know why you think your say carries more weight in this family than mine and Anna’s. You’re barely even here. You don’t know what this family is—”

Mike’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I have always been there for you.”

“What, with money? Since when is that a cure all? Can you plaster green paper over broken hearts or use it for company? Do enough zeroes cure loneliness, or keep your sister in school, or your mother from depression?”

Mike spun around. “I did what I had to do to keep us going! Where were you when Dad died? Were you making arrangements and comforting Mom and finding out about gravestones and life insurance? No, you were crying in your room!”

Her eyes widened and her face turned splotchy. “You still want credit from ten years ago? I was fourteen!”

My head whipped back and forth as they shouted, but at this point Lauren stormed off. Anna stopped long enough to hiss “Good fucking job” at her brother, before running after Lauren.

We stood alone on the hill. “I’m sorry.” The fog swallowed my words, and I tried again. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t realize this would happen.

He said nothing.

“So...what happens now?”

He turned to me with a twisted smile. “Why? Want to know if your dig’s actually going through?”