“James, my heart is breaking. I cannot stand the pain of it,” Mary lay on her back, sobbing as she pounded her chest with a tightly clenched fist.
“Hush, love. You must stop all these dramatics,” as he sat on the edge of the bed, James tried to pull his wife into an upright position, but she pushed his hands away.
“Don’t hush me, do you hear? You could have made more of an effort to stop her. She’s still too innocent to live away from her family. Something terrible is going to befall her – I can feel it in my bones,” Mary sat up quickly, catching James by surprise. “You must go after her. Please, if you have any love in your heart for me, bring her home.”
Mary clutched her husband’s jacket and he allowed her to vent her sorrow on him, until she ran out of steam and buried her face in his chest.
“Mary-Anne is a grown woman and there’s nothing I can do to stop her making her own way in the world, no more than I could stop Thomas. And it will not be long before Catherine and the children take the boat to America. We have to let them go, Mary. In time the pain will lessen and we’ll come to terms with our loss.”
Mary sobbed in James’s arms until her energy was spent. For a long time they sat together on the edge of the bed, silently consoling each other, until James felt his wife go limp in his embrace. Realizing she had finally given in to an exhausted sleep, he gently laid her down, draping over her the patchwork quilt she had made with her daughters when they were children.
James knew how difficult it had been for Mary to put on a brave face for her family as she prepared breakfast earlier that morning. He could see in her eyes that she was being torn apart inside and prayed that she would hold out until the children had left the house for school and work. To her credit, Mary had sent them off with a smile and it wasn’t until she had closed the door behind her that her breakdown had occurred. His own heart was heavy with the impending departure of his eldest daughter and her children and it was all he could do to keep control of his own emotions while he comforted his wife.
Sitting in his chair by the warmth of the fire, James reflected on how many times he must have bade farewell to family and friends from the parish over the years. He had to remind himself that both he and Mary had left Ireland themselves at one time, in search of a better life. James thought it ironic that in the end, it was back in their own village of Blackrock where they eventually found that life.
When he was younger, famine and disease were his enemies, and he fought to keep them from his door. Just when life seemed to make sense to him, the political activism of his friend, Michael Kiernan, forced James to become involved in situations he had always tried to distance himself from. The price Michael and his family paid was at a cost no one should have to bear. James lamented the fact that his son-in-law, Patrick, had been enticed into a movement that could very easily end in heartache for Catherine and her children. Even his own son, Thomas, was full of enthusiasm for radical change and although a self-proclaimed pacifist, he fought a war of words against an unjust and unequal society.
“Ah, I’m getting old and weary by the day,” James spoke softly to a quiet house. “And I’m falling into the habit of talking to myself, like an old woman complaining of her ailments.”
The creaking of the chair as James wearily raised himself out of it disturbed Mary and he rebuked himself for waking her from a much needed sleep. It was a pleasant surprise to see her stretch out her arms and give him a sad smile.
“Come here to me, James McGrother and let me tell you something I’ve been neglecting to say to a fine man such as yourself.”
“Is this a trap of sorts, Mary? Am I to have my head bitten off as soon as you have me within arm’s reach?”
James lay beside his wife and stroked the wisps of hair that had escaped from the tight bun she had gathered them into that morning.
“Ah, stop with your foolish talk, James. It’s been too long since I last told you how much you mean to me. I’m sorry to have caused such a fuss. No doubt, I’ll do it all over again when Catherine and the wee ones leave us, but as long as I still have you, I can bear it.”
“You’ll always have me, love. I’m staying here, no matter what happens. If we have to live in the ditch, so be it, but I fancy Maggie would come to our rescue,” James started to laugh.
“Oh, we can be sure of that. Your sister has a way of turning the tables on bad luck, and that’s a fact. I daresay, if the Queen herself fell on hard times, Maggie would be the best person for her to turn to. Why, she would even find her employment of some sort,” Mary began to laugh, too.
Ten years appeared to fall away from her smiling face and James cupped it in his hands, drawing her lips to his. It had been a long time since either of them had been so happy in each other’s company.
“I feel like a boy again, Mary. Thank you.”
“And do you want me to treat you the same way as I did in our childhood, James?” Mary pulled away, prudishly. “If so, I must ask you to leave my bed this instant. But if you were to feel more like the young man that I married, then I might be tempted to behave differently.”
James smiled and drew her close, her teasing assuring him that she was still the wife he had come to love and cherish so much. At that moment, in spite of their heartbreak and sorrow, James knew they were bound together by more than love or family. Every fibre in his being connected him to Mary with an invisible chord that even death would find impossible to sever.