Maggie got lost for a moment, wandering around in an unfamiliar environment. She thought of going back, of trying to find a way through it all…but she couldn’t. She could, but she couldn’t. She had to go. She just had to go.
The sun was setting, making it near-impossible to see whenever she turned westward, and the heat of the summer’s day was starting to wear her down. It had been hot and humid inside Liam’s house, but somehow the company had made it more bearable than being alone outdoors. She felt a panic rising up inside her, like she needed to find a way to escape the inescapable. She had to get out of Corkstown.
She kept walking—though she had no idea where she was headed anymore—and hoped some detail would trigger a memory of how she’d gotten here, and how to get out again.
“Maggie!” called Colleen, spotting her from a distance. For a moment, Maggie thought of running…but she knew that would only make things worse, on so many fronts.
Colleen caught up with her, out of breath. “There you are! I’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere!”
“I got a little lost,” muttered Maggie, and Colleen laughed.
“Happens to the best of us,” she said. “You alright?”
Maggie shook her head like she wasn’t sure of that herself. “It’s just…” she said. “I…can you apologize to Liam for me? Tell him I’m sorry, but I—”
“You can tell ‘im yourself,” said Colleen, looping her arm through Maggie’s. “He’s worried sick about you. Tossed everyone out and—”
Maggie pulled away. “I didn’t want that.”
“Aye, but that’s who Liam is. Fights for the ones he l—” She smiled, shook it off. “For the ones he cares about. The moment Hobley said what he said—”
“I was just upset—”
“Aye, and rightly so,” said Colleen. “You’ve every right to be upset. Hobley should’ve—”
“It wasn’t Hobley,” said Maggie, and Colleen quieted. Maggie shook her head sadly. “He didn’t know. It wasn’t intentional, but it still…it just…Liam—”
Colleen paused. “Liam?”
Maggie looked so conflicted, it was painful. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Don’t say that. It was a rough start, sure, but—”
“I don’t deserve a second chance like this.” She started to walk away, but Colleen caught her arm, pulled her back. She looked upset at what Maggie had said.
“Because you’re a widow?” she asked. “That’s not your fault, Maggie.”
“You can’t say that.”
“I can and I do. You were the victim…”
“It’s not that sim—”
“No, it is, and—”
“I killed my husband,” said Maggie.
Colleen held her breath.
Maggie’s whole body shuddered as she fought to maintain her composure, thin as it was. “I keep…I keep reliving that day, over and over again. How normal it was. How absolutely unremarkable it was. Breakfast and a walk. A chickadee singing in a tree, and we couldn’t spot it. The sky was so blue, we stopped to marvel at it. It feels so…odd, at a distance, knowing what happens next. But I can still remember the feeling of my hand in his, and how I felt so safe…”
She wiped tears from her eyes. “The men were after me. I should have said yes. I should have just done what they wanted.”
Colleen reached for her. “Oh, Maggie, no…”
“No, you don’t…” She took a sharp breath. “I had so many chances to make it right. I had so many chances to change the course of…” She shook her head like she could shake out the memory. “I could have stopped him from trying, but I was just so delirious with happiness, with my hand in his, I…”
“My husband died for me. He died defending honour I don’t even have.” She shook her head. “Passion is addictive, but passion gets you killed. When Liam yelled like he did, protecting me—rightly or wrongly—it just…”
“It’s not the same,” said Colleen, gently.
“It never is, until it is,” said Maggie. “For a little while there, I tricked myself into thinking I could be happy again. That maybe it could be that easy to be happy again. But then I remembered what the other side of passion feels like. And I just can’t bear to live that again.”
It was an explanation and a confession and a testament to a mind twisted in knots trying to reconcile the past. It didn’t make her feel any better, having said it. It made her feel worse…but that was exactly what she needed. To feel worse.
Colleen slid her arm through Maggie’s again. “My father’s probably got your room made up by now,” she said. “Fancy a stroll?”
Maggie smiled, nodded. “That would be nice.”
They got all of five steps when Colleen realized: “Oh! In all the commotion, I forgot my things back at the Kellys’! I’ll tell you what: head down that-a-way—not too fast—and I’ll catch up ‘fore you reach Sapper’s Bridge. Alright?”
“I’ll do my best not to get lost,” said Maggie.
Colleen raced back through the winding maze of Corkstown. “Walk slow!” she called, disappearing from sight.
Maggie continued on as directed, passing by so many little shacks and houses that she quickly lost count. It seemed a miracle any of them were standing: she could see clear through the wall boards in some places, into cramped quarters where half-naked children were being corralled into bed. Every cry travelled far and wide, every quiet curse or prayer, every patient sigh from the neighbours without children of their own.
One house caught her eye especially: it had a bright red door, painted evenly, in contrast to all the unspoiled wood around. The home it was attached to looked like it was made of the broken pieces of a sunken ship, held together with rope and luck, swaying with the wind. But that one door, so out of place, made the rest of it possible somehow. The anchor keeping chaos at bay.
“You lost?” came a voice, and Maggie turned to see a young man on the lane, heading into Corkstown with his shirt sleeves rolled up and a kind smile on his face. “You seem lost.”
She shook her head. “No, just admiring the scenery.”
“Flangan’s door,” nodded the man. “Aye, it’s a special one.”
“How did he—?”
“Oh, he didn’t, don’t worry. A banker ‘cross the water had it made custom for his new house, but didn’t like the shade when he saw it, so he had it tossed. Flanagan found it, tidied it up, and made it the centrepiece to his new home.” He whispered: “Doesn’t have hinges, though. Just hangs loose.”
Maggie laughed, and the man laughed before offering his hand. “Rían, by the way.”
“Maggie,” she said, shaking it firmly. “Do you live around here?”
“A ways in,” he said. “You? The accent’s—”
“East,” she said.
“Ah,” he said. “Then I suppose you need the full tour.”
She laughed again. “What tour?”
“The famous Corkstown tour,” he said. “The main attraction of Bytown, if I’m honest. The canal is nice, and the timber slides are a sight to see, but folks come from all over the world just to walk these windin’ lanes.”
“Do they, now?”
“Aye. Legendary, they are.”
“Then I suppose I’d better see them,” she said, and let him lead the way.
After a minute or two of obscure—and, Maggie suspected, made-up—facts about the various abodes they were passing, Rían switched to something a little less pithy:
“What brings you to Bytown?” he asked.
“The Corkstown tour,” said Maggie.
“Ah, good answer.”
“But no, I’m just…I’m just passing through.”
The expression on his face was the picture of sadness and regret over lost opportunities. Worse, it felt so sincere, and was so charming in its sincerity that she knew in an instant she was headed back to a place she didn’t want to be, with a boy trying to charm her into staying, and her not wanting to say no.
“My husband died,” she said, without fully thinking it through.
“Oh,” said Rían, expression changing as the words sunk in. “I’m sorry. Was it—”
“Murdered,” she said, shocked at how blunt she was being. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Forget I said anything. Forget I’m here. Just…forget me.”
“I don’t think that’s likely,” he said with a smile, and she blushed. Then he asked: “What was he like?” and a flood of words came rushing to the front of her brain, all clamouring to be said…
“Smart. Strong. Brave. Hard-working, but not blindly busy. Made the most glorious omelettes. Knew all the stars in the sky—”
“That’s a lot of stars!”
She laughed. “He liked to show off. Had a lot to show. He had a kind smile, and a soft touch. He always said we’d buy a little cottage near Cloyne and retire, and his eyes would just light up when he spoke of it.”
Rían’s voice was full of gentle sincerity. “He sounds wonderful.”
“He was,” Maggie said. “And I miss him so much.” She wiped her eyes. “God, I’m crying again. I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to—”
“No no, don’t apologize. I should’ve left well enough alone.”
“I ruined the tour.”
“Oh, don’t be daft. This is far less crying than usual.”
She laughed at that, and he smiled cautiously, strolling along beside her. They were nearing the end of Corkstown, and soon their time together would be at an end. She didn’t want it to end so soon. She slowed her pace, holding on to every last second.
“Maggie,” he said, pausing by the corner of the last house. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“What am I looking for?”
He squinted into the distance, past the setting sun. “A second-best life to live. Something you can be happy to settle for.”
“No one’s ever said that to me. They’re always full of hope, promising bliss. But you…you don’t think I can forget? That time heals all wounds?”
“Oh, I’m sure it does, and I’m sure you can. But if it were me, I wouldn’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because he was smart, and strong, and brave and hard-working. He made the most incredible omelettes, and knew every star in the sky…” He shrugged. “It hurts to remember that, but it’s a wound I wouldn’t want time to heal over.”
She stared at him, him standing there in the fading summer sun, tall grass waving this way and that behind him, and felt safe in a way she couldn’t describe. Like the very fact that he wasn’t gawking at her, scrambling for her attention, trying to impress her…that was somehow drawing her to him more than she could have imagined. It wasn’t the same raw attraction she’d felt with Liam…it was different, somehow.
He noticed her staring and smiled. “Do you know where you’re going from here, or—”
“Back! I’m back!” called Colleen, gasping for breath once again. “I’m so sorry. He wanted to know if you were alright, and then I had to calm him down, and then there was an unfinished pint that we…” She finally registered the situation. “Hello, Mr Kelly,” she said.
“Mr Kelly?” asked Maggie.
“Liam’s brother,” winked Colleen, then leaned in to whisper: “You can’t have both.”
Maggie held her hand out to shake Rían’s hand. “Mr Kelly.”
“We’ve met,” he said with a grin. “I assume Colleen can escort you from here, so I’ll say good-night, and good luck.”
Colleen frowned at the two of them, curious at what drama had unfolded when she wasn’t around. “Good luck with what?”
“Finding her second-best life,” said Rían. “Wherever the road takes her from here.”
Colleen grabbed her arm and squeezed tightly. “Hey now! She and I have an agreement: we’re sisters ‘til the end of time.”
“Colleen, don’t be pushy,” Rían scolded, which only made Colleen hold tighter. It was so childish and silly, but Maggie laughed despite herself. The whole situation felt so natural, it was dizzying: Colleen, such an easy friend; Liam, so dedicated and true; and Rían, like a blast of cold air, cutting through the suffocating haze of the humid Bytown night.
She thought of the journey ahead. The path she had to take. The responsible life.
If she said yes to this—to any of it—she’d be latching on to people who would pay the price for her decisions, past, present and future. If she said yes, someone would get hurt. Liam? or Rían? Or neither, or both, or…
She knew in her gut that it was a mistake. That even just choosing between two brothers would be an awful mistake…but none of that seemed to matter. The harder she thought about it, the clearer it all became.
“Actually,” she said. “One more day wouldn’t hurt.”