THE TEENAGER with the red hair and the green eyes was wearing the maroon and gold uniform of St. Ignatius College Prep. She was bouncing a basketball up and down with practiced skill.“Mom is pretty intense, isn’t she?”
“Not unusually so for an Irishwoman.”
“So our bond is pretty intense, huh?”
“I think I have noticed that.”
“So I must be pretty intense too?”
“As the Cardinal says, arguably.”
“You’re not intense at all, Daddy.”
“Uhm … well, maybe a little differently.”
“No way … . Would it be better if I weren’t so intense? Maybe I could change …”
“No way. You wouldn’t be Nellie then. Besides, it’s in your genes.”
“I love Mom, like totally.”
“Doesn’t everyone.”
“Sometimes I think we bond by fighting.”
“That may be.”
“But I don’t want us ever to become enemies.”
“For more than five minutes.”
She grinned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you and herself stay angry at each other
for no more than five minutes. Then you conspire against me.”
“Would I do that?”
“Every day!”
“So you’re not worried when Mom and I fight?”
“Only that I won’t get out of the way.”
“But, Daddy …”
Then the walls of the place where we were talking collapsed and the cold waters of the Lake rushed in. Somewhere there was an explosion. I was hurled out into the water and carried by an enormous breaker onto a beach. Nuala and Nellie were still out there. My wife was all right but my daughter, I knew, had drowned.
I sat up with a start! I was soaking wet. Lake water?
No, perspiration.
Only a dream? No, it was too real to be a dream!
Next to me, Nuala was sleeping soundly, her naked body glowing like polished silver in the moonlight.
Where was I?
My parents’ house?
I slipped out of bed and into the room next door. Fiona looked up at me quizzically, then closed her eyes. Our redhead wasn’t fifteen yet. She was only going on seven months. It had been a dream. But it had seemed so real!
As quietly as I could, I crept back into bed. I kissed Nuala’s breast as I fell back to sleep. That was at least real. She murmured compliantly.