XV
"God, she is beautiful."
He couldn't stop thinking that when he got home and found her there.
It was only a few days before the wedding, and he could no longer wait until her presence was not a surprise, but the constant in his life, her sweet voice and her smile receiving him after an arduous day of work.
However, she was as beautiful as sad.
The state of affairs was almost desperate for him, but he had to concentrate because now everything was about Shelagh and at her pace. He tried not to touch the subject, that their talks were only about them two and Tim, but she herself mentioned that Christmas she would not join the choir with the sisters and nurses, and he knew right away how much she missed those women who also were her family. The joy in her eyes that he saw as they chatted upon his arrival vanished, but he was there to catch her before she fell deeper into those feelings of sadness and loneliness that seemed to surround her at every step she took in her new life.
He mentioned the wedding, and that's all he had to do so that the happy and calm Shelagh he loved was back. She looked at the engagement ring and then looked at him, and all the sadness was gone.
But that only lasted a few moments, and he knew how deeply sad she was. He could feel jealous or offended, he was here, with her, about to get married, and she seemed so lonely in the world, yearning for other people.
But he understood her, and he knew that Shelagh was like that, she felt all things intensely and that was one of the reasons he loved her. She really was once very lonely, and those people gave her a family, and she was no longer there. How could she not miss them, and how could he be so selfish to be angry at that? He could only try to do his best for her, so that she would be happy by his side no matter who she was before and what people were saying.
So when she mentioned that in the convent there were roses only on St. Raymond Nonnatus Day, Patrick decided to talk about the sisters.
Not a single day had passed without Sister Julienne asking about Shelagh. Sister Evangelina hadn't done it, but one afternoon he heard her asking Jenny if she knew anything about Shelagh. And Sister Monica Joan did not speak to him, but he knew that her character had become more sullen since Shelagh was not in Nonnatus. They all missed her, and perhaps, if Shelagh agreed to invite them, everything would be fixed and there would be a small and bad memory in the past in the face of a future full of joy and reconciliation.
Her sharp response also cut off all those illusions. She didn't want any of that. She felt bad, felt that she had left everything for someone she loved more.
And then she said something that was disturbing to him. She wished they didn't love her. She said it with so much pain, that she only seemed to say that she was sure that they hated her, that she deserved no more than that. He was going to tell her that was not true, that she was completely wrong, but he could only say that she would feel better, that together they would find a way to get everything resolved. She looked at him incredulously. And then she continued, a little soul tormented, aching to love too much.
There were rules in religious life, and he knew it, he always found them quite restrictive, sometimes even a little ridiculous, but he was not the one to criticize that. There were rules about what time to get up or sleep, what to do or not to do in public, what to say, what to shut up, when to pray, what and when to eat. A completely structured life.
Now Shelagh was free, but she was completely without a guide. She had left a regulated life to enter another one where there were also supposed to be rules that no one ever told her, and he didn't have the courage to tell her about rules, because he wanted her to be free like the wind, to do whatever she wanted, to live her life. But for Shelagh, freedom could also be a prison full of doubts and uncertainties.
Patrick knew that loving Shelagh was not enough. If he was not there to take her hand and accompany her on this new path, her blue eyes that he loved so much would always be misty by sadness.
He was racking his brains thinking what to do, so the clock ran and ran, and he couldn't sleep. He heard knocks on the door, but he turned on the bed, tired. He was a doctor and should be available, but he really wanted to sleep. Maybe it was just a drunk man who wanted to bother.
But the knocks continued, and complaining a lot, he got out of bed and dressed as he could, wondering what terrible thing he had to face in that early morning.
When he opened the door, he knew there was no terrible thing waiting for him. Shelagh was there, looking worried. But she was there. She was suddenly homeless, and considered that this, his home, was her home.
She entered, apologizing at every step, ashamed that the only thing she brought was the wedding dress. Patrick saw a pink box, the temptation to look inside was powerful, but although he wasn't superstitious, there were some things he had to respect, and a groom couldn't see the dress before the wedding.
"Sorry Patrick but I have nothing but what I wear, I hope tomorrow I can return to take a shower and change my clothes and..."
"Shelagh, if you do that, you could already bring your things here. There are only two days left before you live here permanently."
She smiled broadly, and sat stiffly on the couch.
"I'm going to get my pajamas for you and I'll bring my pillow and blankets, so you can go up and stay in the bedroom."
"No, Patrick, I'll stay here on the couch. It will be better."
Unconvinced, he agreed. She looked worried, and also ashamed, and happy, and anxious. She was a bubbling mixture of emotions and that made her smile and blush
and make many gestures with her hands, therefore she looked adorable.
"Dad, what's going on?"
Tim's voice took him out of his reverie, and he looked at the stairs, where his son was rubbing his eyes, visibly annoyed at the volume of voice his father was using at 3 in the morning. His anger went away when he saw who was there.
"Shelagh! You already moved here! We don't have to wait until the wedding!"
He came over to give her a little hug and she messed up his hair even more.
"I'm for an emergency, there is a bomb out there and they took me out of the pension. I had nowhere to go so here I am."
"And the other people? Are they in the underground, like in the war?"
"Oh no, they are at the Leopold Institute. I didn't go there because... because it is better to be here."
Her nervous smile betrayed her, although Patrick knew very well why she did not go to the rescue center. Too many people who had been talking about them for days. And the sisters, and the nurses.
"Dad, you didn't offer anything to Shelagh, she must be hungry. You really are a terrible host."
Patrick burst out laughing and Shelagh too, as they watched Timothy turn on the kitchen lights and open biscuits cans.
"Come." He nodded, pointing to the stairs, and she followed him. They climbed in silence to the room.
Shelagh stood at the door, looking at her feet or anything but the interior.
"Shelagh, honey, you can come in. After all, it will be your bedroom in two days."
"It's true." She smiled shyly, and then entered.
"Sorry for the disaster, it seems that bomb exploded right here."
She laughed a little and took the pajamas he handed her. It was his best pajamas, he had hardly used it a couple of times.
"Oh, just give me the top, I think it's quite big."
"Miss Mannion, are you saying I'm fat?"
She laughed, mischievous, shrugging.
"Maybe I should put you on a diet in two days."
He smiled and stroked one of her arms, slowly.
"You know I will do everything you ask, even if it's swimming from here to New York to lose weight."
She laughed again, looking relaxed and calm.
"I will not ask you so much. Just be more tidy."
"Just that? You ask me for a great sacrifice." He pretended to complain but she stood on tiptoes and gave him a small kiss on the lips. He stared at her stunned.
"Well, you know how to order things."
Shelagh, laughing, winked. Then she walked to the bathroom so she could change her clothes.
Patrick waited outside, leaning against the wall of the hall, while listening to the noise of cups that his son produced in the kitchen. Shelagh came out of the bathroom very quickly, looking at the sleeves hanging from the pajamas, the fabric left over everywhere. She looked up and was scared.
"Patrick! I didn't know you were here."
He smiled and approached her, who lifted a sleeve and burst into giggles.
"I think it's a little...huge. But thanks, you are very kind and..."
"Shh..." Patrick shut her up with a kiss, to which she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck. Seeing her in his pajamas was really producing things in him, and suddenly two days was too long to wait. He separated a little, just to kiss her again. He felt a little bad, she was laughing to wear his pajamas, and he wanted to tear it from her body. She was very innocent, and he was a beast.
"Don't you want my bed? Please." He whispered when he separated from her lips again. He adjusted a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to calm down. Knowing that she would sleep in his bed would torture him even more, but at the same time, he wanted that. He lowered his hands to her hips to bring her for another kiss, which she accepted.
"Thanks Patrick, but I'd like to sleep in that bed with you, not alone."
He blinked, shocked. Two minutes ago he considered her terribly innocent and now she was saying something like that. She burst into giggles again and touched his chin, still laughing.
"Close your mouth." She said, and he knew he was looking at her like an idiot with his mouth open. By the time he reacted, she was coming down the stairs, rolling up her sleeves, the low light of the house shining in her loose hair, her bare feet walking down the steps with the grace of a dancer. How happy and shameless this Shelagh was, how many surprises she would have for him to discover little by little.
He went downstairs, she was already settling on the couch, covering her legs quickly, perhaps because of shame or cold. He sat next to her, she kept laughing at everything as Tim entered with a tray of teacups.
There were only two days left. In two days, she would be at home forever.
It was too long.
He woke up startled. It was already day and his son had just opened the door of the bedroom.
"Dad you fell asleep, what a shame! What will Shelagh think?"
That said, Timothy left with an air of indignation.
He was also indignant. When he went to bed he could not sleep, the events made him too happy. He planned to get up, spy on Shelagh, watch her sleep or surprise her, but as soon as that idea crossed his mind, it seems that the sleepiness came and he couldn't do it. Now she would leave, and he would lose the privilege that would only come with the wedding.
He forgot the trouble when he saw her moving around the kitchen with a big breakfast. He looked at the watch, he would be late if he stopped to eat all this, but he didn't want to disappoint her.
"Love, all this was not necessary." He said approaching. He kissed her, but she walked away quickly, looking at Tim.
"Yes Dad, it is necessary, I'm a growing child."
"Since I said that to Jack's mother, that boy hasn't stopped saying it and now you do too." He sat at the table, ready to start eating.
"We are the same age, so I am also growing. That's why sometimes my body hurts. You also told that to Jack's mother."
"Yes, it's normal. Shelagh! Come to eat, stop what you are doing."
She appeared with more toasts and sat down. He saw her eat as little as ever.
"You should eat more, love."
"Are you also growing, Shelagh?"
"Tim." Patrick looked at his son severely, but Shelagh just laughed.
"Unfortunately that is in the past! Patrick, I never have much appetite, it has always been that way. Oh." She dropped the toast on her plate, suddenly very obfuscated. "They said on the radio that this whole issue of the bomb is not yet solved. Maybe it's for tomorrow. Those poor people, I don't know what the sisters and the girls will do to help all of them."
"And poor of you." Patrick took her hand and squeezed it. "You surely want your things."
"It wasn't so many things." She smiled shyly. "I have the most important thing."
Patrick squeezed her hand more and looked at his son who was still eating like a little pig. Many times he told him to behave in front of Shelagh but the boy did it and then forgot his good education.
"Tim, do you want to go to Leopold Institute? It is more than certain that Jack is there."
Timothy put down the toast and looked at him. It sounded bad but he wanted his son to leave to be with Shelagh a little after finishing his rounds in the morning."
"No, I'll stay here."
Sighing, Patrick put the serviette on the table and stood up, and then kissed Shelagh on the forehead.
"Very good, but don't behave badly, help Shelagh with her things. I will see you later."
Heading to the door, he saw that Shelagh was following him.
"Is something wrong, honey?" He whispered.
She put her hands on his shoulders, and stretching, she kissed him.
"Now you can go to work."
When he returned, he did not expect to find the chaos in Poplar, also inside his house.
Music, shouting, children running, and Akela's whistle trying to calm the pack. Shelagh was nervous but was smiling. He was afraid of children, because they could repeat what they heard in their homes without any filter, but none said anything.
His son was chatting and laughing with Jack, and then he carried Chummy's baby. For a moment, he thought of that image repeating but instead of someone else's child, a baby of his and Shelagh's, and Timothy behaving like an older brother. He looked at Shelagh who was beside him laughing. She was so natural with children. If she wanted a dozen of them, he would gladly agree.
The improvised party came to an end and he proposed to take the children to the Institute. He felt Shelagh's gaze on him looking at him with so much love written in her eyes. It took a great effort not to turn and plant a kiss on her, he didn't care if all those little beasts were there watching them. But Shelagh had already proved reluctant to be affectionate with Timothy around, so with so many children watching, she wouldn't hesitate to slap him.
He took all the Cubs safe and sound with their families and returned home. There Timothy dragged the chairs to put them in place and Shelagh kept dishes in the kitchen. He looked at his son and entered the kitchen, to take her by the waist. She was startled but turned in his arms and smiled at him.
"The dinner is ready." She announced. "I could not do much, with all the children here..."
"That's not a problem." He gave her a little kiss but she pulled away. "What's wrong?"
"Patrick, Timothy is there."
"The child is more asleep than awake, he is also in the living room."
"It doesn't matter, what will he think?"
"Shelagh, there are children who grow up watching their parents beating and insulting each other. Don't you think it's good that one of them grows up watching their parents love each other?"
Shelagh separated from his arms, returned to the task of storing the dishes. She seemed even offended and Patrick couldn't understand what was wrong.
"That would be nice if they were his parents whom he sees. I'm not his mother."
"He sees you like his mother!" He spoke louder than he wanted, and Tim appeared at the door.
"What happens? Are you fighting?"
"No Tim, quite the opposite, just..."
"Timothy, dinner is ready, wash your hands so you can eat and sleep, you look very tired."
Shelagh pulled a strand of unruly hair from Tim's forehead, and he nodded and walked to the bathroom.
"You see it? He does everything you ask. He sees you as his mother."
"No, Patrick, I don't want to replace her."
Shelagh sat at the table, played with the edge of the tablecloth and sighed.
"It would be beautiful if he considered me his mother, but I'm satisfied that he doesn't think of me as the stepmothers of fairy tales. I don't want him to believe that I'm an intruder in his house and in his life."
"You know he doesn't think that way about you. He loves you. Like me." He took her hand and she smiled. "I have already told you that sometimes he can be irritable, but in time he will love you more and more, you will see that you will be like a mother to him. We already talked about it before I proposed you to marry me. He always loved you, a lot. And I think he'll love you more if he sees the two of us love each other too."
"What are you talking about?" Tim dropped into his chair.
"Nothing. Look at what delicious food Auntie Shelagh prepared."
They ate fast, everyone was quite tired. When Patrick stood up and announced that he would go to bathe and sleep, this time he did not kiss Shelagh on the forehead but on the mouth.
"Oh, that's disgusting! Why do you give Auntie Shelagh your microbes? And then you send me to wash my hands!"
Shelagh looked embarrassed but laughed with Tim's comment.
"Because I love her so much." Patrick said. "And you will do the same in a few years!"
"No, never! It's awful!"
He listened to Shelagh's laugh as he climbed the stairs, and then to both of them chatting while doing the dishes.
When he finished bathing, the whole house was already silent. He went to see his son, who was already sleeping soundly. Then he entered his room and lay down.
But he pushed the blankets away and stood up, sneaking down the stairs, hoping to find Shelagh asleep too. If she was, he would just look at her, engrave that image in his mind and go to sleep thinking about her. And if not, he would sit next to her, to give her a kiss or several, chat a little more, and make plans for the future.
He did not expect to find something completely different. Standing on a chair, Shelagh was in a gray dress. Beside her, the box where the wedding dress was kept was open and empty.
He did not understand the reason for such a dress, but he understood when he saw her face in the mirror.
