A Door Opens

In the end Sybil decided not to put her name forward as a candidate for the local elections. Instead she volunteered for canvasing and became more involved in the Board of Directors at the hospital. She needed to get out and meet new people and focus her attention away from herself. It was enough to keep her out two to three nights a week. Her mother still worried but was happy to see Sybil starting the first steps to recovering from her grief.

"Sybil is worrying about Rory's visit," Lady Cora told Mary and Matthew one evening when she was at the Abbey for dinner. Sybil had gone to one of her committee meetings.

"What makes you say that?" Mary asked.

"She gets an odd look on her face every time his name is mentioned and changes the subject."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," Matthew commented. "She has known him for a long time. He lived with them for a time. Most likely there are some personal details about Tom's estate she wants to discuss with him."

"I hope you're right," Lady Cora replied. "She almost made herself sick before. I hate to see her like this."

"Sybil is better than she was Mama," Mary said. "Her grief needs to run its course."

"I can't help but worry. It's a mother's prerogative."

"And a child's," Mary said. "Stop worrying or you will be the one taking ill."

In the third week of March 1942 Rory was expected on a late train. Arrangements had been made for Edith and Sir Anthony to meet him with the car. Sybil was on the late afternoon shift at the hospital and would not have enough time to get home, changed and go to the station in time to meet the train. She had rearranged her shifts so she had the next four days off for his visit.

When she arrived home, she could hear voices coming from the drawing room. She hung up her coat and went through to see who was there. When she saw who was there she stopped in her tracks, her polite inquiry frozen on her lips. Rory rose to greet her. His blonde hair was slightly darker than the last time she had seen him. The lines around his eyes and mouth were deeper. She was hit by his height. It had never occurred before that he was the same height as Matthew. He hadn't put on an ounce since he was twenty-five. Other than the obvious signs of age he looked much the same as he had at his graduation from medical school.

"Sybil, how have you been?" he said with a smile. "The ferry arrived ahead of schedule so I caught an earlier train."

"Rory," she managed to choke out before she dashed across the room and into his arms. "Rory." Sybil was sobbing wildly into his chest. His arms went around her to hold her and he rested his cheek on the top of her head. Neither of them noticed Lady Cora leave the room and quietly close the door behind her.

He held and rocked her in his arms while her grief poured out. Sybil knotted his shirt into her hands and clung to him while he stroked her hair.

"There, there my dear one, don't cry," he crooned. "You're not alone. I'm here now. All will be right."

"It feels like nothing will ever be right again," she sobbed into his chest.

"It will. He's resting with the angels now. He wouldn't want you to be like this."

"I don't understand why. Why did he have to go?"

"Why do any of them have to go?" Rory said softly. "It's not for us to question. Colleen was still a girl. I don't know why. He loved you. Take heart in it."

"Oh Rory, what am I going to do?" Sybil sighed against him as her sobs started to subside.

"You're going to dry your eyes and talk to me," he said gently. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the tears from her face then handed it to her to blow her nose while he kept one arm around her. They moved to sit on the settee with Rory holding her hands.

"I've been so lost," Sybil told him.

"Of course you have. No one says the vows on their wedding day thinking till death us do part will come sooner than later."

"How do I go on? How did you ever do it?" Sybil asked looking at their hands.

"You just do and then one day you wake up and the pain is gone. All that is left is the love. Tom loved you so very much."

"He loved you too."

"It's different for us. We loved him by choice not because he was family. We made the choice to include him in our lives. Now that he is gone we have to pick up the pieces and move on."

"How did you get so old and wise, all of a sudden?" Sybil said leaning her forehead against his.

"I had a good teacher," Rory said with a sad smile.

The next day they headed into the village. Sybil wanted to show Rory around the hospital. He was now the chief surgeon for two hospitals in his local area. Surgeons were in short supply in Ireland with the war on. It was hard to keep them in a rural hospital like Listowel when they could make a vast amount more working in a city or across the sea in England. He had been attending a conference to keep abreast of the changes in medicine as a result of the war. New surgical techniques were being published so fast, he was having a hard time keeping up with them.

"Major Beasley I'd like to introduce you to a relative of my late husband's from Ireland. This is Dr. Lester," Sybil said.

"How do you do?" Major Beasley said. "May I inquire what type of practice you are in?"

"Chief Surgeon at Tralee General Hospital and Listowel Community. I was in Dublin for a surgical conference and decided to come over for a visit for a few days."

"A surgeon? This is fortuitous. I have been going over some of the latest journals and have a number of questions. Perhaps they were covered at your conference. Nurse Branson, would you mind if I drag Dr. Lester off to talk shop for a bit?"

"I don't feel I should leave Sybil to her own devices. I'm only here for a few days," Rory said. "She was just showing me about. I'm always interested in how other hospitals are set up. You never know where you will find ideas for improvement in your own set up."

"Don't worry about me, Rory. I'll go speak to Cousin Isobel for a bit. I don't mind."

"If you're sure then," Rory said looking directly at Sybil and waiting for her nod. "I'd be happy to discuss the conference with you, Major Beasley. You may have some information I've been looking for as well."

Sybil went to find Cousin Isobel while Rory was off talking to Major Beasley.

"Sybil, you're looking much better today than you have in some time," Isobel commented.

"I'm feeling better," Sybil replied. "Rory's presence has a calming effect on me."

"He certainly has always been a big part of your life," Isobel replied giving Sybil an appraising look. "It's too bad he lives so far away."

"I wish he was closer. I would like to see him more often."

"Sybil, forgive me for saying so and please don't take this the wrong way," Isobel paused slightly. "You're still a young woman. Take what life has to offer and run with it. I didn't when Matthew's father died. By the time I realized what was right in front of me, I was an old woman and it was too late. It is one of my biggest regrets."

"Thank you for telling me," Sybil replied covering Isobel's hand with hers. "Right now I don't know what I want. Everything is still too fresh."

"Just don't wait too long," Isobel said with a small smile of regret.

"I won't."

After the hospital Sybil and Rory wandered around the village then headed for the graveyard. Sybil let Rory go to the grave on his own to say his goodbyes in private. His eyes were red with unshed tears and his jaw was set from the effort of holding them back when he rejoined her.

"It isn't right. He should be buried in Ireland," Rory said.

"We couldn't get the permits. Riordan tried but with the war on there are restrictions on transporting the deceased. We'll try again when the war is over."

Rory only nodded. Sybil took his arm as they started to walk back towards the Dower House.

"Rory, can I ask you something?" Sybil questioned.

"What is it?"

Sybil stopped walking and turned towards him.

"Do you love me?"

"What kind of a question is that? Of course I love you. You and Tom were the only family I had for years."

"I'm not talking about that. It was something Tom mentioned."

Rory looked up at the clouds blowing overhead in the sky, before he looked back at Sybil.

"I always thought the man was touched by the fairies. He had a way of figuring out exactly what I was thinking no matter how much I tried to hide it."

"You were too much alike."

"We weren't that much alike."

"You haven't answered my question."

Rory sighed.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked evading her question.

"I just do," Sybil said her brow taking on a frown.

Rory thought it over for a minute. They began walking again.

"Yes," he said finally. "I wasn't going to tell you. At least not like this."

"When did you realize things had changed?"

"About six years ago. After Colleen died I had offers. You know," he said flushing slightly. "They either didn't appeal or didn't work out or both. Besides I had a young child to think about. Then I came to London for a visit and I just knew. I tried to ignore it. There I was in love with the wife of my best friend. The man who was practically my father."

"I'm glad I didn't know. It would have made things strange."

"And now?" he said stopping and looking into her face.

"I'm not sure. I'm going to have to think about it."

"Just don't think too long."

"I won't," Sybil replied.