Resistance (39 page)

Flint, who is still laughing, drags out three more
boxes and brings them over to where we are situated and then sits
on my other side; pulling one of the boxes further into his reach
with a sigh. I grin at him. “Don’t worry, Eir will be back with
caffeine soon.”

He looks at me and smirks. "After that little event,
I don't think I'll be passing out in your lap anytime soon." I
glance over to see Lumi buried in her box, refusing to acknowledge
Flint’s comment in any way. I nudge him with my elbow and mouth the
words, “Be nice” to him. He grins and shrugs at me, attempting to
look innocent.

When my brother returns with the coffee and more
mugs, he is calm and his complexion has returned to a normal hue.
He can’t seem to meet Lumi’s eyes, though. He must like her a lot
more than I realized. Flint winks at me and gets up to claim some
coffee for himself with a huge grin on his face. I smile as Lumi
bounces to her feet for a refill when Eir settles the coffee on the
stand behind us. Her face is still a bit pink, but she seems to be
recovering better than Eir. I direct my brother to one of the other
boxes Flint brought out. He settles himself under the window and
immediately digs into his box, not looking at any of us.

With all four of us working, it only takes a few
hours to get through the rest of the boxes in the library closet.
Close to mid-afternoon, Lumi is perusing an old book she found in
her last box and Eir is sneaking glances at her every few moments
and then looking away. Flint is taking it all in, chuckling softly
to himself every so often while I dig through the very last box.
When I reach the bottom and still haven’t uncovered any of Gran’s
journals, I sigh and push the box away from me, completely
disgusted. “Well, there aren’t any of Gran’s journals in here.” I
look at Flint and dread makes my heart heavy. “Looks like we’ll
have to head to Gran’s room next.”

“I’m at your disposal, love,” he says with a wink and
my face heats. I glance away to hide the evidence but before I can
say anything else, my brother speaks for the first time in
hours.

“Lumi, would you like to play Rummy with me, by any
chance?” he asks, sounding hopeful and shy.

The Winter princess looks relieved and nods happily
up at him. “I’d love to, thank you.” Eir offers her his hand and
helps her to her feet, grinning, and she turns to Flint and me and
says, “If you need any more help, just let us know.” Then she waves
and scampers off with my brother.

Flint and I watch them leave; Eir tall and dark where
Lumi is petite and blonde, and I can’t contain my grin. Flint looks
at me, shakes his head and says, "They're combusting with cartoon
hearts, I swear to God." I laugh with him and silently agree with
his assessment; they are absolutely adorable. He starts returning
boxes to the closet while I pile things back into my last box, and
as I’m closing it back up, he returns and picks it up before I can
get up off the floor to bring it to him.

I’m not looking forward to investigating Gran’s old
room at all. As far as I know my parents left it as it was when she
passed, and I haven’t been in there since then. It has to be done
now though, if we hope to make any kind of headway. I look up to
see Flint standing in front of me with a smile. “You all right?” he
asks, and offers me a hand up.

“Of course, I’m fine,” I lie; trying to smile at him
as he helps me to my feet. He looks like he might argue, but
instead pulls me in for a quick hug and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Let’s go,” I say quietly and lead the way out of the library;
Flint’s hand held tightly in mine.

My grandmother had a bedroom on the second floor that
she shared with my grandfather before he died, but when her health
started to deteriorate and the stairs became too much, my dad made
the den on the first floor into a room for her so it would be
easier for her to get around. I remember her telling me that the
den reminded her of her childhood home in Ireland. She would get
nostalgic once in a while and tell me stories about when she was
growing up. Most of the time they ended with her crying, so I
stopped asking her to tell them to me. I hated seeing her so sad,
and whenever she thought of Ireland and her family there, a
distinct air of melancholy would stay with her for days.

Flint and I make our way down the two flights of
stairs to the ground floor and I draw in a deep breath when we
reach the pocket doors that lead to the den. Flint squeezes my hand
and I return the pressure before releasing his hand; pushing the
doors apart and stepping forward into the room where I witnessed my
grandmother’s death at the tender age of nine. Although the air
smells a little musty, there is a faint scent of the rose water my
grandmother liked to wear still present. I flip up the light switch
on the wall and bring the room to life.

I take a glance around and try to hold in a shudder.
Everything is exactly the same as it was that night. The
overstuffed red sofa in front of the huge picture windows still has
her pillow on one end with a chenille throw folded on top of it.
The small bureau from the set that used to be in the second floor
bedroom she shared with my grandfather is still against the wall,
and her hair brush lies on the top with a hand mirror and some
candles. The matching bed and dresser are in my room down the hall.
There is a bookcase against the wall next to the sofa that holds
some of her favorite books and a few scrapbooks she salvaged from
Ireland.

Everywhere I turn, I see Gran as she was in life;
warm and animated, telling stories and laughing at her
grandchildren’s antics. I try my best to hold that image in my
head. I’d been reading to her from Little Women that night, doing
my best to keep her spirits up, and then suddenly she was gasping
for air. It all happened so fast after that. I got her memory book
for her and we looked though it together as she lay there, fighting
to breathe. I try to remember the book with its pictures of family
members I’ll never know. I did my best to ignore the wheezing
sounds of her last breaths; the fear clutching at my heart as the
life left her blue eyes, while holding onto her hand and begging
her not to leave me. It is almost like it’s happening all over
again and I feel my hands shaking; my heart stuttering in my chest
as I remember the utter desolation that her absence brought to my
world.

From far away I hear my name being said, and when I
don’t respond there are warm hands on my face; thumbs stroking my
cheeks. I blink, grab a breath and see Flint standing in front of
me, concern in his eyes. “Breathe, Fi,” he says, sounding a little
panicked. I grab onto his arm and shake my head a little, working
on bringing air into my lungs. It takes a few moments but I’m able
to get myself under control. When I’m breathing normally again,
Flint takes hold of my hands. “Do you need to get out of here?” he
asks.

I make myself snap out of it and shake my head. “No,
no. I’m sorry.” I take a breath. “I just haven’t been in here since
the night she died.”

He frowns and pushes a stray hair off my face. "Don't
apologize... Are you sure you're okay? Lu and I could go through
here if you want."

"No, that's alright...but thank you for the offer. It
was just a shock, I think. I'm okay now," I say, trying to downplay
the panic that was just racing through my system.

He doesn't look convinced but he nods and kisses my
forehead anyway. "Are you ready to get started?" I nod and move to
the closet in the corner of the room where I know there are more of
Gran’s boxes.

I feel Flint shadowing me with his eyes and turn
towards him. “I promise I’m okay now. I think there might be
something here in the closet.”

Before I’m done speaking he’s in front of me; opening
the closet and pulling the cord hanging from the ceiling to turn
the light on in the small space. There are coats, blouses, slacks
and skirts hanging from plastic hangers on a metal rod, and above
them on a wooden shelf there are about five boxes stacked
haphazardly. A full-length mirror is hanging from the back of the
door and I see my reflection staring back at me. My eyes look huge
and my face is even paler than normal. I look haunted. I turn away
from the image in the mirror. That girl is not me. I do my best to
tamp down the memories that surface everywhere I look.

Flint pulls down the boxes and puts them on the
couch, turns to me with a smirk and asks, “So how many steamy
novels do you think we’ll find in here?”

I grin and shake my head at him. “I’m not sure —
maybe she hid her favorite ones in here for easier access.” He
grins and we start looking through the boxes.

I hear the back door open and then my uncle calls
out, “Anyone home?”

“In the den, Uncle Sea,” I yell back to him.

“What are you up to in here?” he asks as he looks
around the musty room. He crosses to the dresser and picks up
Gran’s hand mirror; stroking the handle tenderly. “She loved this.
It was her mother’s, you know?” he says, looking at me with misty
eyes.

I try to smile at him and nod. “I did. Mom used to
say I should take it, but it didn’t feel right to me.” I clear my
throat and blink. “We’re looking for Gran’s journals. We’ve
completely searched the library closet and I figured if they were
anywhere else they’d be in here, but so far we’ve had no luck.”

My uncle’s eyes widen a bit. “Journals? Ah lass, I
wish you’d told me you’ve been searching for them.”

Flint speaks up from the depths of the box he’s
digging through. “You know where they are, Sea?”

My uncle nods. “Yes, she asked me to take care of
them for her.” He pauses and scratches his head. “She knew someone
would be looking for them someday, and wanted to be sure they
didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

I get to my feet and dust off my hands on my shorts.
“Where are they, Sea?”

He looks crestfallen for a moment, almost like he
doesn’t want to tell me. “Ah, well — I followed her instructions,
you see. And she wanted them brought to our first home here in the
States.”

“Where we store supplies now?” I ask him,
incredulous. With all the people who use that place as a safe house
while they’re out of the city, someone had to have found them by
now.

“Aye, that’s the place. But don’t worry, Fi — she had
me hide them so only those who knew where to look could find them.”
I exchange a glance with Flint and shake my head, confused.

“So they’ve been there for the last ten years, but
you’re sure no one else could have possibly found them?”

Seamus nods and grins at me. “I promise you that no
one would look where she had me put them.” He chuckles. “My mother
was a very gifted woman. I’m not supposed to tell you exactly where
they are buried, but she knew it would be you, Fi. Can you wait
here? I have to grab something from next door.” I nod mutely and
decide it might be best to sit down.

Flint starts shutting boxes and replacing them in the
closet, then comes and sits next to me on the sofa; taking my hand
in his without speaking. I look up at him. “I’m almost afraid to
see what he brings back.” He opens his mouth to respond when we
hear the sound of Seamus coming back in, and he closes it again;
squeezing my hand and pressing a kiss to my cheek.

My uncle hands me a blue envelope that still carries
the faint scent of roses and my full name scrawled in my
grandmother’s flowery handwriting. “I’ll leave you to it, then.
Everything you need should be in there — that’s what she said,
anyhow…” he trails off, lays his hand on my cheek and smiles sadly.
“You look so much like her, lass. It makes my heart happy.” He
ruffles my hair gently and leaves the room.

I look at the envelope and feel a thousand memories
bombard me all at once. The envelope is one she dyed herself when
she taught me about using nature to help us replace things that
aren’t made anymore. She made it blue because it was my favorite
color; a pretty robin’s egg shade that I still favor. I’m not sure
I will get through this without crying like a fool.

Flint clears his throat and I jump. I’d forgotten he
was even here. “I can leave you alone to read that if you’d like,”
he says quietly and goes to get up, but I grab his arm and pull him
back down next to me.

“Stay, please? I—” I force myself to take a breath.
“I’d like it if you could stay, please.”

“Of course,” he says and I smile my thanks at him. I
try to ignore the shaking of my hands and flip the envelope over;
sliding my finger under the flap to open it. Several sheets of
notepaper are folded to fit inside and I pull them out and unfold
them carefully.

I smooth the wrinkles out, realize I’m stalling and
then take a deep breath and decide to read aloud.

“Hello my dove — I know things haven’t been easy for
you since I departed this life. My time draws near even as I write
this and you are the reason I fight for each breath, every day.
There is so much I would like to say, warnings and consolations
that I won’t be here to give in person. Alas, I cannot. So I will
tell you what I am able to instead. First — there are two maps
enclosed here; one to bring you to the house, and the other to help
you locate the volumes you’re after once you are there. Follow the
instructions and you will find the answers everyone is seeking.
Take heed, though — you might not like what you find.” I pause to
take a breath and then press on. “Second — you are not — under any
circumstances — to try and rescue your father, no matter how dire
you believe his condition to be. You will see him again, I promise,
but you cannot release him from his prison. If you try, you, your
brother and your companions will all perish.” I have to stop to
clear my throat of the unshed tears clogging it before I can
continue, and a thousand new questions race around in my mind.
“Third — please hear these words, Fianna — you are not responsible
for anything that has come to pass thus far. The horrors you’ve
witnessed and borne, both real and imagined were not your fault.
The burdens you’ve carried were never meant for you, yet you’ve
shouldered them just as your father did and you’ve made me so
proud. I have to go, dove, but one more thing first. Please
remember when you’re reading about my past that no one is perfect,
and I tried to act in the best interests of our family in the end.
I will always be with you, my dear girl. All my love, Gran. P.S. —
Be kind to your Gran and show your gentleman my memory book.”