as I stared at it. Thomas Smith was looking down at the woman beside him, as if at the last moment he’d been unable to resist. Her gaze was cast down as well, a secret smile on her lips. They weren’t touching, but they were very aware of each other. And there was no one else in the picture with them. The picture was oddly candid for the time period.
“Was Thomas Smith . . . in love with Anne?” I stammered, strangely breathless.
“Yes . . . and no,” Eoin said softly, and I looked up at him with a scowl.
“What kind of answer is that?” I asked.
“A truthful one.”
“But she was married to your father. And didn’t you say he was Declan’s best friend?”
“Yes.” Eoin sighed.
“Oh wow. There’s a story there,” I crowed.
“Yes. There is,” Eoin whispered. He closed his eyes, his mouth quivering. “A wonderful story. I can’t look at you without remembering.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I asked. “Remembering is good.”
“Remembering is good,” he agreed, but the words came out with a grimace, and he clutched at the covers.
“When was the last time you took a pain pill?” I asked, my voice sharp. I dropped the pictures and rushed to the pills stacked on his bathroom counter. I shook one out with anxious hands and filled a glass of water, then lifted Eoin’s head to help him drink it down. I’d wanted him to be in a hospital, surrounded by people who could take care of him. He’d wanted to be home with me. He’d spent his life in hospitals, caring for the sick and dying. When he was diagnosed with cancer six months ago, he’d calmly announced he would not be receiving treatment. His only concession to my tearful ranting and cajoling was that he would manage his pain.
“You need to go back, Annie lass,” he said a while later, the pill making his voice dreamlike and soft.
“Where?” I asked, heavyhearted.
“To Ireland.”
“Go back? Eoin, I’ve never been. Remember?”
“I need to go back too. Will you take me?” he slurred.
“I’ve been wanting to go to Ireland with you all my life,” I whispered. “You know that. When should we go?”
“When I die, you’ll take me back.”
The pain in my chest was a physical thing, biting and twisting, and I bore down to combat it, to extinguish it, but it grew like Medusa’s hair, the writhing tendrils slipping up and out of my eyes in hot, wet rivulets.
“Don’t cry, Annie,” Eoin said, his voice so weak that I did my best to quell the tears, if only to save him from distress. “There is no end to us. When I die, take my ashes back to Ireland and set me loose in the middle of Lough Gill.”
“Ashes? In the middle of a lake?” I asked, trying to smile. “Don’t you want to be buried near a church?”
“The church just wants my money, but I hope God will take my soul. What’s left of me belongs in Ireland.”
The windows rattled, and I rose to pull the drapes. Rain beat against the panes, a late spring storm that had been threatening the East Coast all week.
“The wind is howling like the hound of Culann,” Eoin murmured.
“I love that story,” I said, sitting back down beside him. His eyes were closed, but he continued to speak, softly musing like he was remembering.
“You told me the story of Cú Chulainn, Annie. I was afraid, and you let me sleep in your bed. Doc kept watch all night long. I could hear the hound in the wind.”
“Eoin, I didn’t tell you the story of Cú Chulainn. You told me. So many times. You told me,” I corrected him, straightening his blankets. He clutched at my hand.
“Yes. I told you. You told me. And you will tell me again. Only the wind knows which truly comes first.”
He drifted off, and I held his hand, listening to the storm, lost in memories of us. I was six years old when Eoin became my anchor and my caretaker. He’d held me while I wept for parents who weren’t coming back. I wished desperately that he could hold me again, that we could start over, if only to have him with me for another lifetime.
“How will I live without you, Eoin?” I mourned aloud.
“You don’t need me anymore. You’re all grown up,” he murmured, surprising me. I’d thought he was fast asleep.
“I’ll always need you,” I cried, and his lips trembled again, acknowledging the devotion that underscored