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It made me think about how I felt when Brian got in trouble. What I had considered doing to get him out of trouble. How it felt when the judicial system didn’t work the way I thought it should. These Linewiler people were going through the same thing, but with a slightly different perspective.
Sadie sat between Bridget and Fiona. She seemed to have fallen right in with the family and was accepted by all the kids. Somehow her face looked fuller and her eyes more focused. She still had that winning smile and laughed easily at some of the stories being told.
I listened to the kids talk about their day. It hurt me a little bit to know I was missing out on so much of the vacation. Jane had taken Shawna and Chrissy on a hike into the hills west of the house. She had packed a lunch, and they were gone almost all day. It sounded amazing to me.
The twins and Sadie had collected pinecones and smooth pebbles for some sort of arts-and-crafts project that was going to be undertaken tomorrow. There was no question that Sadie would spend another night at the house. I had no problem with that.
The boys had gone fishing, and Eddie had devised a way to lure fish into a submerged net and ended up catching half a dozen catfish. Then they built a little pen on the edge of the lake where the catfish were waiting if we needed them for dinner. It was ingenious, and I was sorry I couldn’t see Eddie’s mind at work that day.
Mary Catherine tried to soften the blow by telling me that the kids were taking advantage of their chance to spend time in nature and that they couldn’t wait for me to come with them.
Seamus said, “Aye, it’s a fine vacation. I spent the day comfortably in the rocking chair on the back porch. It let me keep an eye on the kids and catch up on my reading.”
“What reading?”
Mary Catherine said, “I finally got him to pick up a Michael Connelly novel by telling him that Connelly was an Irishman. Once he started reading about Harry Bosch, he couldn’t put the book down.”
I may have missed a day with the family, but I was starting to enjoy the evening. The dinner Mary Catherine had made was excellent. Some kind of casserole with vegetables and ground beef in a dark, garlicky gravy. Everyone gobbled it up, including Sadie. I was happy to see her eating so well.
Then a burst of noise made me jump. It sounded like an explosion. The sound of shattered glass filled the room, and I instinctively covered the two kids closest to me. There were shouts, and Chrissy cried out like she’d been hurt.
It took me a moment to realize that one of the front windows had been knocked out. I rose to my feet and looked over the table. “Is anyone hurt?” I kept my voice even and calm. No one really answered me. “Guys, is everyone okay?”
Everyone nodded, and I gave a quick extra look at Seamus to make sure the shock hadn’t affected his heart.
I slowly stepped forward into the living room and found a red brick lying on the thin throw rug.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered in a low voice.
I reached for my car keys on the table by the door. Someone was going to pay for this. As I grabbed the door handle, I felt Mary Catherine’s hand on my arm.
“It’s all right, Michael. No one’s hurt. We need you to stay here with us.”
I thought about what she said as well as the tone she used. She was right. I needed to stay here.
I looked over at the table and saw that the kids were still terrified. Suddenly I wasn’t sure I liked Maine as much as I thought I did. Nothing like this had ever happened to us in New York City.
Chapter 73
The next morning, I used a pane of glass I found in the garage to fix the shattered window. Seamus and I went to work before any of the kids were awake. I appreciated his steady hand holding the glass in place while I used some sketchy, dried-out caulk to seal it in.
Seamus said, “Not exactly the vacation you were looking for, is it?”
“No, I guess not.”
“But in adversity, God often shows us what we really need.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t want you feeling sorry for yourself because your vacation isn’t what you expected. I want you to see what good could come from it.”
“Sometimes I swear you’re from the Far East. You’re absolutely inscrutable.”
He gave me that charming crooked smile and said, “The Irish have always been inscrutable. We just call it mystical.”
Later, after my grandfather showed me the wonders of sitting in a rocking chair, looking out over a lake, I couldn’t ignore the sunshine or how much fun the kids were having jumping off the dock. This was, after all, my vacation.
I stood up, pulled off my shirt, and said, “To hell with worrying. I’m going swimming with my kids.”
