Sometime around five-thirty Sunday morning, as the sun is climbing over the horizon, I decide I might as well get up since I'm obviously not going to sleep. A shower seems to be the most logical next step. I stand under the spray, dazed with dread, knowing I will be absolutely useless for the entire day. I reject calling Jen, knowing I owe her a serious explanation for my behavior the day before and wanting to put that talk off for as long as possible.
I frown as I realize that outside of the twins and Rocco, Jen is literally the only other person I really talk to. I haven't spoken to my parents in years, and I have no other family to speak of. While I do occasionally have lunch with some other people at work and I'm friendly with the crowd at McGinty's, I literally don't have anyone else I can confide in about...well, anything.
"That's a bit depressing," I murmur as I shut off the water.
Thirty minutes of sitting on the bed staring at nothing as I air dry convinces me that I need to get out of my apartment before I turn into a solid fixture. I dress simply, jeans and a thin, light blue sweater, throwing my hair back into a braid.
The braid takes a little more time to complete than normal, and I glance down to find the braid reaching well past my collar bone. I didn't' realize how long it's gotten. I should probably get it cut, but it's so easy to deal with by just pulling it back or braiding it, and I don't really relish the thought of having to put actual effort into styling it. And going to the stylist just sounds way too normal compared to how bizarre the last week has been.
Plus, y'know, the whole never learning how to style beyond braiding kind of puts a cramp in my lack of beauty routine.
After debating where I should actually go, I finally realize there's only one place I want to be today. One train ride later, I find myself stepping into a park that is slowly coming alive with the spring. The bare trees are beginning to sprout new leaves, with most of them looking as if they've been draped with yellow-green lace. The grass is changing over from dead brown to alive, and there are even a few tiny flowers peeping out among the beds.
I head across the Gardens, making my way slowly to the bridge where Connor and I took shelter during that freak tropical storm back in November. Normally, I like to stand on the bridge and people watch, but today I don't really feel like peopling. I probably couldn't hold a coherent conversation if I tried, and I just want to stare at the water and sulk by myself. Bypassing the path to the bridge itself, I turn to the side and follow the paved walkway down underneath to the thankfully deserted space. Leaning against the wall, I let myself slide down until I'm sitting with my knees pulled up to my chest.
A glint of light on my hand catches my eye, and I gaze morosely down at the double infinity knot circling the ring finger of my left hand. I feel like a decade has passed since December. I thought the three weeks where I was recovering from my heroic act of stupidity and the twins were barely speaking to me was the hardest time I'd ever go through. It blows my mind to think how naive I really was.
Across the water, I can see a couple of people working on the swan boats, scrubbing off a winter's worth of grime for the seasonal opening next week. In all the years I've lived in Boston, I've never actually gone out in one of the swans, always preferring to watch the happy couples and families from the sidelines. Once I became a part of a happy relationship (I wouldn't call it a couple, really), we just never got around to doing a lot of the sappy stuff I'd always seen people doing that I secretly thought I'd like to try. Every now and then, Connor or Murphy would come up with a romantic gesture or two, like the carnival they took me to this past fall or bringing me dinner when they knew I'd be starving, but mostly we just did a lot of hanging out in various locations.
And while I was totally fine with that at the time, I still find myself wiping tears away at the ridiculous thought that I will never ride in one of those sappy, goofy little boats with either of my guys. I mean, it's not like we officially broke up, or anything. I definitely needed the night to cool off, but I know they aren't gone for good. I just can't see us ever having a normal day in our lives again or doing "normal couple" stuff.
The longer I sit and watch the workers cleaning the swans, the further I sink into my funk of self-pity and misery. I know I'm being ridiculous; the guys are injured, and they need me right now. I can't stand the thought of them throwing themselves back into the fray tonight, but I obviously can't stop them.
I just…why do they…I don't…damn it.
Coming here was a mistake.
"If ye wanted t'ride in one o'dem birds, lass, all ye had t'do was ask. Always want ye t'speak yer mind."
Connor settles stiffly down on the ground next to me without asking, as if I was expecting him to show up. As I raise my tear-streaked face from where it was resting on my knees, I realize that deep down, I really was.
I turn from him to look back at the small crew working over the boats, wondering how someone can be so much on the same page as me and yet in an almost entirely different universe at the same time.
"I won't try to talk you out of it again. I'm sorry I yelled at you."
"No, ye ain't, but I appreciate y'sayin' so, all th'same." His smile is tired and strained but still genuine, and I know he's telling the truth. He stretches an arm around my shoulders, snugging me to his side and taking my hand in his. He brushes his thumb absently over my ring, and we watch little bits of twigs and leaves drift by on the water.
"How'd you know I'd be here?" I finally ask, turning my face into the lapel of his coat. I inhale deeply then mentally slap myself as I realize I'm trying to memorize his scent. I can't think like I'm saying goodbye to him, no matter what I thought or felt yesterday.
"Tried yer apartment, an' ye weren't home, so I figured ye couldn't take bein' cooped up all day. T'ought ye wouldn't be able t'eat fer once-" He lets out a startled "oof" when I elbow him in the ribs and squeezes me just a little tighter as he grins and continues, "So I didn't bother goin' t'th'diner. Figured wit' yer head where i'tis, ye'd want t'be out but not where ye'd have to deal wit' a lot o'people. Seemed like as good a place as any t'start."
"You know me too well," I say, slipping my arms inside his coat to circle his waist. "How long do we have?"
Connor knows better than to tease or put me off at this point, and he sighs as he answers, "Murph an' Roc are back at yer place, gettin' the stuff t'gether an' checkin' it over t'see if dere's anythin' we need fer t'night. Gonna leave around seven or eight, after full dark, hit Yakavetta's around nine or ten. Y'know Murph'll wanna spend some time wit' ye t'day, so I told 'im we'd meet him an' Roc fer a late lunch at th'diner. Ye don't have t'eat if ye aren't feelin' it," he adds, glancing down at me.
I nod miserably, not having any reply. I feel like I'm waiting for the world to end, for some sort of bomb to drop and wipe out everything I care about. As much as a part of me felt like it already said goodbye yesterday, the greater part of me isn't ready to ever say goodbye.
I need them.
"I am sorry I couldn't handle things better yesterday. I'm not sorry that I yelled at the three of you, you're right about that, but I should have...I don't know, been more mature about it? Let you explain yourselves a little more before yelling at you and storming out, maybe. I mean, how does maturity even play into a situation like this?"
I know I'm rambling, but anything to fill the silence and prompt him to speak again.
"Yer probably th'most mature person in me life, lass. Look who I spend me time wit'. Ye keep us anchored t'reality. It's too much t'ask of ye, an' I shouldn't, but...I can't let ye go. It's fuckin' selfish of me, an' I feel a right bastard, but I need ye, an' I won't let ye go lest ye want me to."
"I don't want you to," I say softly. I sincerely mean it, even if a part of me is still trying to push myself out of this situation as hard as it can.
"Ye don't have t'make up yer mind dis second, Grace. Told ye we'd give ye the chance yer given us. S'pose dat extends to us all offerin' out second chances, maybe thirds an' fourths if needs be. I'll do whatever I can t'keep ye, even if dat means fergivin' yer sorry carcass every time ye come crawlin' back t'apologize."
He snatches my wrist firmly before I can smack him and draws me close, the smile fading from his face.
"Ye're right, love, we're all insane, an' ain't none o'dis fair, but we hafta do it. D'ye understand? Or, at least, can ye try? We hafta go t'night, we can't wait. 'Tis a mad, dangerous t'ing we're doin', but it's got t'be done, and dere ain't no one else."
"I really don't want to try," I confess, my eyebrows knitting together. I lick my suddenly dry lips, letting out a short, worried breath as a sharp, anxious pain flashes through my abdomen. "I don't want to understand, I don't want to try anymore. I just want things to go back to normal and make sense again."
Connor takes in my words stoically, his face non-reactive, and I realize he's waiting for me to follow that up. I look deep inside, searching for a scrap of a clue as to what to say or do next. What I say next shocks the hell out of me, but from the look on Connor's face, he's not in the least bit surprised.
"I don't want to, but I will keep trying. For all three of you. You were told to go on this mission, and I was told I have to be there for you. I'm probably going to fuck it up a few more times, but I promise I will keep trying to understand until I just can't do it anymore."
I didn't know I had it in me.
"Can we talk about something else for a little while?" I ask, starting to really feel my lack of sleep. "I just...maybe you could talk about something and I could listen. I know I don't have any room to complain, but it was a long day yesterday and a longer night, and I didn't sleep. I just want to enjoy you while I can."
"Ye sure ye don't want t'enjoy a bit more o'me, lass? Maybe do a little reminiscin'? Tis a lovely afternoon t'think back on th'good times, aye?" Connor hints, somehow able to make me turn full flush even in the midst of my misery.
"I'm wearing jeans this time, you perv," I retort. "That, and the whole you getting shot in your leg. Remember that?" He accepts my logic and a kiss on the cheek with cheerful resignation, settling for pulling me just a little closer. I snuggle into the crook of his neck as his arms tighten around me, closing my eyes and reveling in the simple joy of just being with Connor.
"Couple'a years ago, me an' Murphy were workin' th'early shift at th'fact'ry, startin' at six an' gettin' off around three or four every day. Then Jim has a middle shift lad go an' get 'imself in a car wreck an' break one o'his legs, so I volunteered t'take his place fer a few months til th'lad could get back on his feet. Kept his job at th'plant dat way, Jim didn't hafta hire a replacement."
I listen contentedly, my eyes drifting shut at the wonderful lilting rise and fall of Connor's voice. I don't know where he's going with this story, but I'm more than happy to let him lead me there.
"Had t'work me own startin' time fer th'first few weeks til dey could get someone rotated t'me spot, so I was workin' somethin' like six in th'morning t'seven or eight at night sometimes. Dead tired most o'dose days; didn't feel like walkin' back on me own, so I started takin' th'train every night. First week or so was borin' as hell. Almost no one ever on, empty cars rattlin', an' I near fell asleep most days. An' den dis one night in December, right after Christmas o'96 if I r'member rightly, dis girl is already sittin' in th'subway car when I get on, pretty as anyt'in', an' she looks up at me an' smiles."
The first night I saw Connor. I remember the lop-sided half-smile he turned my way, more smirk than anything else, and I also very clearly remember the dizzy spell I enjoyed for the rest of that train ride, even as I pretended I wasn't sneaking glances at the gorgeous man sitting a few feet away.
I was a goner from the moment I first laid eyes on him.
"Even after me schedule evened out an' I didn't hafta go in til noon, I still rode th'train home most nights, just in case I might see ye again. Hopin' maybe ye'd work up th'courage t'say somethin' t'me."
"You could've made the first move, you know," I point out, my eyes still closed. My muscles are slowly being lulled into relaxation by Connor's warmth, by the comfort of his familiar scent and the security of his arms wrapped tightly around me.
"But den y'might've thought less o'me, stalkin' pretty girls on th'subway an' all."
"You did stalk me, you and Murphy both said-"
He cuts me off with a gentle kiss, stealing my breath away so I can't finish. His fingers slide back into my hair, stroking down my neck as he releases my lips. I can feel his breath, warm and reassuring on my forehead as he continues.
"An' den one night I get on, an' dere ye are sure enough, sleepin' peaceful as a lamb, yer head on th'winda. O'course, ye started cursin' up a storm at me th'second ye woke up, but it only added t'yer charm."
I'm too relaxed to jab Connor this time, and I lay my head on his shoulder again. My eyes slide shut as I picture the first night I ever had the courage to actually talk to him. "What would you have done if I hadn't worked up the nerve to kiss you?"
"I woulda showed up th'next night wit' flowers an' asked ye out proper-like. Swept ye off yer feet."
"But you did...picked me up and everything…" I mumble against his neck. I feel Connor's fingers doing something with my braid, and then my hair is down, and he slowly starts to thread his fingers through the loose strands over and over until I'm practically humming with pleasure. Exhaustion from another sleepless night spreads over me, weighting my limbs and pulling down towards the sleep I'm desperately craving.
"Would happily do it again, lass, soon's me leg'll reliably hold us bot' up. If ye hadn't talked t'me, I was workin' up me own courage t'try introducin' meself an' askin' ye out th'right way. Knew if I couldn't take me eyes off ye fer two solid months, y'were someone I wanted t'take th'time t'get t'know. Glad ye worked up yer nerve, though."
"Me, too."
The next thing I know, I'm being shaken gently, and Connor is murmuring, "It's time t'meet Murph an' Roc fer lunch; wake up, love."
The train ride back to our neighborhood is as silent as train rides can be. Like the first time I actually spoke to Connor, there is no one else in the car except the two of us, and I can see him sneaking mischievous glances at me from time to time.
"Wearing' jeans didn't stop ye th'first time, lass. Sure ye don't want t'reminisce just a wee bit?"
"That was in the middle of the night, Connor. I am not having sex on a subway car in broad daylight, regardless of the lack of other passengers." I can't help the smile that creeps over my face, even as my thoughts refuse to come out of the shadows they're creeping through, and Connor seizes on the weakening in my defenses, pulling me abruptly onto his lap before I can protest.
"Maybe just a little makin' out, den?" His lips are on mine, gentle but insistent, silencing any further dissent I might offer. His hands slide up under my sweater, flirting with the top edges of my bra, and I slip forward on his lap, grinding hard against the sudden bulge in his jeans. He's just slipping his fingers inside the cups of my bra when the train shudders to a halt, and the door slides open, admitting not one, not two, but what looks to be five families complete with a mess of screaming and squalling children.
I jerk my sweater down and collapse onto the seat next to Connor, burying my burning face in my hands and hiding under his arm. I can hear him laughing above me and jab him sharply in the ribs, keeping my face turned resolutely away from as many of the other passengers as I can.
Short of keeping my eyes closed, though, I can't completely escape the gaze of some of the parents. While one mother gives me a scathing glare of shocked distaste, another woman grins and gives me a thumbs up, mouthing, "Way to go!" across the car.
The next stop finally arrives, and I practically leap through the doors the second they open. Connor follows at a more leisurely pace, limping a little but smirking like no one's business as he pulls even with me on the stairs.
"Sorry it took me so long to catch up. Couple o'th'fellas on th'train had t'congratulate me. Couldn't disappoint me fans, now could I?"
Author's Note: I felt really bad about neglecting everyone for so long, so here's another one. Had to get some humor in before it was too late. Thanks for reading this far; leave some love.