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February
Brianna stood at her Nan’s grave, barely listening to the priest ramble on about what a good mother she was, what an excellent Catholic, how beloved Annie Ryan was in the Bantry Bay community. She’d stayed with Nan after graduating from school, taking care of the house and grounds, and eventually, nursing her Nan through her final illness. Now Nan was gone, and at twenty, she had no idea what to do next.
As they walked back to the house on the edge of their seaport town, her uncle stepped up next to her. “Bree…” he said gently.
“Don’t. Not now, Uncle James.” She walked faster, hoping to lose him before they got to the house. Her house now, according to Nan’s will, in thanks for caring for her in those last years.
He caught up to her easily. “I just, please, listen for a minute, Bree, for God’s sake!”
“Fine.” She stopped and faced him, as the other mourners flowed around them—cousins and second cousins and friends from the parish and all over the county. “What is it.”
Uncle James rubbed his forehead. “You’re as stubborn as Nan was, and your Mum. I’m offering you a job.”
“A what?”
“A job, tending bar and waiting on tables at the pub. ‘Tisn’t far from the house, even if you had to walk at night. And if it was very late, you could stay with us. Jem’s room’s empty since he went off to Dublin.”
Brianna shook her head. “Uncle James, I’m…just not ready to think about it right now. Thank you for the offer, but can you give me a few days? I just….” She lifted her hands and dropped them to her sides in exhaustion.
He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Of course. Aunt Mairi’s sent over fresh bread and colcannon for you, and I think my Catrin sent over a pot of stew, and…”
Brianna groaned and smiled faintly. “Well, I’m not going to starve in three days, what with all the food people have brought for the wake and after.”
“Just think about it,” said Uncle James, and they were at the house and a horde of women gathered Brianna into their midst, a duckling in a swarm of clucking hens all insisting that she sit down for a cuppa.
~*~*~*~
March
She didn’t want the sailors to know her real name, so she introduced herself as “Brandy” to the customers. They knew she was James’ niece—he’d had any number of nieces and cousins working there through the years—but other than that, they didn’t seem to need to know more about her. Auntie Catrin showed her the ropes, which whiskies and ales were popular, and the shorthand the sailors used to call for their favorite drinks.
Ocean’s Rest was a standard pub, one that sailors from around Ireland could come to and feel comfortable in. There were other pubs, of course—the port sometimes saw a hundred ships a day, ranging from small fishing sloops to huge cargo vessels and everything in between. Plenty of customers looking for what they liked best, and all different pubs and bars to provide it.
Some sailors called Bantry Bay their home port; others had it as a stopping point between Europe and the Americas. The faces ebbed and flowed, same as the tide that brought them to the port and the pub.
Brianna learned to school her face into a pleasant, but unencouraging smile. She learned to dodge hands that reached for her as she walked with a full tray of full whiskey glasses. She learned the quickest way to open a new bottle and at what point a bottle wasn’t worth opening. The dregs went to Auntie Cat, who saved them for her famous whiskey cake.
She’d walk home alone after closing, reveling in the quiet times of the town. Occasionally a customer would try to follow her, but she knew the side streets and byways of Bantry Bay better than they did and would lose them before they got anywhere near her home.
Brianna still thought of it as ‘Nan’s house’ even though it was hers, free and clear. She decided to let the garden lay fallow, at least for this year, though some persistent green shoots sprang up despite her lack of care. Habit kept her putting out a saucer of cream and a biscuit or some buttered bread on the back step each night before bed. It was always gone by morning, though she suspected local stray cats rather than the Fair Folk.
She was content in her life.
~*~*~*~
June
Brandy was more of a persona for Brianna, a cheerful bar girl who knew when to let a sailor drown his misery in whiskey and when to cut him off. She got complimented regularly, but the words never turned her head—she knew the words were for ‘Brandy’ and not Brianna. Even the mock proposals and compliments on her green eyes and auburn hair were greeted with Brandy’s smile, not Brianna’s.
Then he walked in.
He was part of a group of sailors from a long haul cargo ship, one that hadn’t been in their port in some time. Uncle James greeted them loudly and called for ‘Brandy’ to pour out whiskey from his private stash. Brianna was confused but did as he asked.
“To the crew of the Majestic!” he shouted over the din of the bar, raising his glass high. The sailors joined in the cheers to their boat and the whole group dissolved into a chaotic scrum of back-slapping and manly hugging.
Except for that one man, who backed out of the group and threaded his way through the pub. His dark hair waved over his forehead, sides tucked shaggily behind his ears. Brianna noticed how he moved through the crowd as if they weren’t there, as if he were surrounded by a bubble that kept the rowdy crew from dragging him back into the group, or into any of the many conversational clusters that thronged the pub.
Instead, he headed for a certain seat at the end of the bar, tucked into a sheltered corner next to the door to the kitchen. This was usually where Uncle James sat, going over accounts or chatting with his particular friends. This man knew exactly where he wanted to go and sat in that spot. It was possibly the least noisy seat in the entire bar.
He looked up at her and smiled. His eyes were the deepest brown she had ever seen, and something about his face felt friendly and familiar, like he was an old friend she hadn’t seen for a long time.
“And what can I get for you?” Brianna asked, as she dried another glass with her rag.
He smiled at her and a wave of familiarity ran through her mind again. “Some of Cat’s scrumpy, if there’s any to be had.” He didn’t say ‘darling’ or ‘dear’ or ‘love’ but again, it felt like he did. An unspoken endearment for her alone.
She bit the inside of her lip. What was she doing? This was just another sailor, one who knew Aunt Catrin made scrumpy each year. “I’ll see what’s in the back, then.” She nodded at cousin Sean at the other end of the bar, who nodded back.
The man was sitting right next to the exit from the bar. She would need to brush past him when she ducked out from behind the bar. She wanted to and didn’t want to at the same time.
What was wrong with her? Brianna steeled herself. She lifted the hinged part of the bar to let herself out, and muttered “Be right back,” at the man, and managed to edge out without touching him.
She still felt an internal electrical spark as she passed by.
Quickly, Brianna ran down to the cellar to where Aunt Cat kept her scrumpy. There were several jugs in various stages of fermentation; Brianna was looking for the batch that had been decanted into bottles. She found it on the shelf above the fermenting jugs, labeled clearly with the year. At first, she chose one from the middle years, but before she touched the bottle, something drew her to the oldest bottles.
Usually, Aunt Catrin saved one or two of the oldest bottles for medicinal use and packed them away in her home. Still, there were three bottles from five years ago resting on the shelf, lightly coated with dust. Brianna took one of these and used her dishrag to wipe the dust away. She remembered this year—it was the last year she lived at home before moving in to help Nan. This was from the last batch of scrumpy that her Nan had helped to mash and prepare.
Brianna didn’t know if this man deserved this scrumpy. Perhaps she would find out.
~*~*~*~
The rest of the evening was a blur to her. She learned that the crew of the Majestic was going to be in port for almost a full month for repairs and shore leave. Many of the men were departing over the next few days for their homes and families. Some were staying in town, and the few rooms to let were quickly rented.
The mysterious man never made any advances towards her. He drank his scrumpy, smiled at the antics of his fellow crewmembers, and occasionally fiddled with a chain around his neck.
She learned that his name was Dylan, and he was from the Orkney Islands. That sailing was a way of life for the men in his family.
And, that he was staying with her uncle in one of the few spare rooms above the pub.
She pulled her uncle aside the next day. “He’s staying with you?”
“Who, Dylan? Of course! I knew his da back in the day, and promised I’d keep an eye out for his boy. Looks just like him. He’s been here before—you just never noticed.”
“I was too busy caring for Nan, thank you.”
“And we appreciate that greatly, all of us.” Her uncle looked at her carefully. “He’s not one for staying, you know. Married to the sea, they call it. Takes some sailors that way.”
Brianna snorted. “Not looking for a husband, thank you. I’m enjoying the quiet.”
“Well, in that case, there’s no harm in appreciating a handsome man.” Uncle James smiled, not quite a leer, and Brianna pushed at his shoulder, holding back a laugh. “But since he’s staying with us, you should know a little more. Dylan’s da was the same way, married to the sea. Dylan’s mum was a Welsh girl, followed Niall to the Orkneys when he got her with child. His sisters took her in, raised Dylan when she…”
“What, died of a broken heart?”
“More like a broken body. She never recovered from childbed.”
Brianna froze. She knew this could happen. Her own mum, over in the next county, never hid how difficult it was to recover from birth, even with a healthy child. Nan had been even more blunt with her, especially once Brianna moved to Bantry Bay. None of the boys here, or even the sailors, had caught her eye before Dylan.
She nodded at her uncle. “Good to know. You don’t often let sailors stay in the pub rooms; you’ve always kept them for family.”
“He’s like family, he is. When I was sailing, I shipped out with Niall and we became great friends. He saved my life. Ever since, I’ve tried to watch out for his boy, once Niall went to the sea for good.” James bit his lip, and Brianna could see he was holding back his emotions.
She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m not planning to run off with him. I like it right here, in Nan’s house and working for family.”
He touched her hand. “Good.”
~*~*~*~
On Brianna’s next day off, she decided to go walking along the shore in the morning. She hunted for beach glass and whatever might wash up. She enjoyed being out in the fresh air—it was such a change from the dark pub.
She’d walked a mile or so, with the sea on her left and the rocky cliffs to the right, when she had the feeling she was being watched. She looked around, but there was no one in sight. A few seagulls circled up ahead, but no boats were nearby. She saw something bobbing in the ocean and pulled the brim of her straw hat down to shield her eyes against the sun glare.
There! At first, she thought it was a swimmer, but then it was clear that a small herd of seals were fishing and frolicking in the waves. She sat on a large flat rock to watch them flip and dive. The rock was sun-warmed, but not too hot, and Brianna found herself stretching out on the rock and putting her hat over her face to take a little open-air nap.
She dreamed of a seal coming out of the water and looking at her with deep brown eyes.
“Is this seat taken?” The voice startled her awake, and she sat up, hat falling off her face.
Dylan was standing next to her rock. He smiled at her, and the way his eyes crinkled around the edges made her stomach flip. Sternly, she told her stomach to stop behaving in such an unseemly way.
He was wearing a light shirt open at the throat, and she could see a glint of silver chain by the collar. His hair hung damply into his eyes, as if he had been swimming, but his shirt and breeches were dry. “Where did you come from?” she asked, more sharply than intended.
“Oh, you know. Lovely summer morning, Sun over the cliffs. Tide out enough for walking. And you?”
“Much the same.” Brianna decided that she wouldn’t let herself get swept away by a sailor with gorgeous brown eyes. She’d treat him as she treated all her boy cousins. With friendly scorn.
“So, may I?”
“May you what?”
“Sit next to you?”
She moved over on the rock. “Be my guest.” Stop flirting! she thought to herself.
He settled next to her. “How has your walk been so far?”
“Not bad,” Brianna dug into the pocket of her jumper. “Found some beach glass.” Amber and cloudy pieces glinted in her hand. “I’ve got a nice collection of it now.”
“Lovely. I remember…remember hearing about your Nan collecting beach glass.”
Brianna nodded. “She taught me how to look for it, when best to find it.”
Dylan faced the sea and swallowed. “I heard about her passing. From James. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. At the end, she was just so tired. I was glad to help her.” Brianna looked at the beach glass in her hand. “She missed walking by the sea. But she loved her garden just as much, and we helped her sit outside whenever we could.” She smiled to herself. “I still put out the cream and cakes for the Fair Folk, just as she did.”
Dylan looked at her, and she saw something almost wild in his eyes. “Good of you to do that. Did you tell them?”
“Tell who what?”
“The fairies. Did you tell them your Nan was gone?”
“I think so.” Brianna cast her mind back to that first night, when all the relations had gone home. She’d put out the cream and some leftover bread on a plate and sat on the back step crying in the cold, because her Nan was gone and she didn’t know what to do with herself. Then she’d wiped her eyes and told the glowing eyes of the cats hiding in the garden that Nan was gone, but the cream would keep coming. That she wasn’t the baker her Nan was, but she would try.
Strange how clear that memory was at this moment.
“I told the cats, anyway. The stray ones who stay in our garden. I only ever see their eyes, but I know they’re there.”
Dylan glanced at her. “Cats. Right.”
~*~*~*~
They left the rock soon after, as Brianna’s stomach was growling and there were pasties at the pub waiting to be eaten. As they walked back to the town, she coaxed Dylan to talk about his travels. He told her about storms he and his fellow sailors had weathered, about ports he had visited from as far north as Sweden and Iceland, and south to Morocco and Egypt and all of the ports in between.
Dylan showed her the silver chain he had gambled for in a bar in Bilbao, and the locket he had bought in a pawn shop in Venice just because it matched so well. There was nothing in the locket at this point, but he bragged of knowing a painter who owed him a favor and would gift him with miniatures to fix inside when he was ready.
He told Brianna about being becalmed for three weeks on a previous vessel, almost running out of potable water, until the wind finally came up and allowed them to reach Portugal. They had been lucky enough to catch enough fish to keep them going, but by the time they reached port, the whole crew was eager for oranges and lemons.
They talked over lunch, and then dinner at the pub, and Dylan walked her home to Nan’s house late in the evening when she could barely keep her eyes open. “Goodnight, Brianna,” he said, and didn’t try to kiss her as she went inside.
~*~*~*~
The next three weeks were much the same. When they weren’t working (Brianna at the pub, Dylan on the Majestic making repairs) they were together. They walked all over the town and up and down the coastline.
Dylan coaxed Brianna’s story out of her. “I still don’t know what I want to do. I’m lucky to have the house free and clear, and have family and a job, but I want something more.”
“You’ll find it,” Dylan said, and his confidence in her raised her spirits high.
~*~*~*~
Three weeks later, they were eating in the pub at lunchtime, playing cards, when the captain of the Majestic came in.
“Dylan. Good to see you. We’ll be shipping out in three days—just after Midsummer.” Captain Reynolds nodded at Brianna and Uncle James. “Brandy, Jamie, I’ve called the boys back in. We’ve cargo to pick up and not much time to get to it. If any of our crew check in here, tell them to see the ship’s mate at the dock master’s office for more details.”
James stood and shook Captain Reynolds’ hand. “It’s been grand having you and the boys here for a while. Are you staying for the Midsummer bonfire?”
“Wouldn’t miss it!” Captain Reynolds boomed.
Brianna and Dylan looked at each other. Brianna’s stomach dropped. Three days…they had enjoyed their time together so much. She felt like Dylan was her best friend—even more so than Nan had been. She couldn’t imagine getting through her days without his friendly brown eyes twinkling at her, tiny stars in the center of the black. Those eyes were full of sadness now.
She stumbled out of the pub; she had to get back to the house where she could rage in peace at the passing of time, at having befriended a sailor when she knew he would always be leaving her. Dylan was following her, she knew. But she just couldn’t speak at the moment.
When she got to the house, she turned around and plastered a smile on her face—her Brandy smile. “You’ll be at the Midsummer bonfire, right?” She tried to make her voice bright and cheerful, but it sounded strained to her ears.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” said Dylan, echoing Captain Reynolds. “May I come in?”
“Not yet.” Brianna said. “I need a little time.”
Dylan nodded and turned away.
Suddenly, she wanted to call him back, bring him into the house, kiss him for the first time. She wanted more than friendship with him, and it had only been three weeks. Too much time, and not enough.
Instead, she closed the door and went to sit on the back step facing the garden. Despite her lack of care, everything was blooming, and not a weed was to be seen. She ran her fingers through the rosemary bush in its pot next to the step. “He’s probably got a girl in every port. I’m not special. He’s not going to want to stay here in this little town. He’s married to the sea. I knew that; he told me, Uncle James told me, even Aunt Cat told me.”
She broke off a sprig of the rosemary and rubbed it in her hands, letting the aroma of home and comfort and Nan surround her. “So why does it hurt so much? We’ve barely held hands. He’s never even kissed me. How could he possibly feel the same way about me?”
Brianna let herself finish her cry, and then went in to start baking the rosemary bread from Nan’s recipe. Even if Dylan didn’t love her, even if there was nothing between him, she had still enjoyed these three weeks more than any other time in her life. They would dance at the Midsummer Ceilidh, and see the bonfire, and he would leave on the Majestic and she would stay in Bantry Bay.
If the bread was a little salty from her stray tears, no one would comment.
~*~*~*~
The next three days flew by. They were busy days of preparing for the Midsummer town gathering and final arrangements for the Majestic to leave port. There was almost no time to spend together—no walks along the shoreline or out in the fields. They caught each other in passing, a touch of the hands meaning everything and nothing between them.
Then it was Midsummer day. The town had a faire with the best wares from around the county for sale. Brianna spent the day with Aunt Catrin and Aunt Mairi, cooking for the feast that evening before the bonfire and dance. They let her stay quiet, knowing only a little of what had grown between Dylan and Brianna, but willing to let her hide her feelings in chopping the onions.
Finally, they sent her home to dress for the dance. “Let him have you happy as a memory, dear heart,” said Aunt Mairi. “’Twill be the best gift you can give.”
Brianna went home. Inside, she found a package and a note from Aunt Cat.
Bri,
This should fit you. I wore it to Midsummer the year James and I came to an understanding. Hope it brings you luck! Cat
Inside was a lovely dress in a deep green that would bring out the color of her eyes and hair. The embroidery on the bodice was of ivy leaves in a lighter green, and knotwork decorated the hem and cuffs. The style was not new, but it was classic and Brianna loved it, and her aunt for sharing it with her.
She had just enough time for a good wash-up with the lavender scented soap she and Nan had made during her last good autumn.
~*~*~*~
The Midsummer party was in full swing when she reached the town center. Since she had been part of the cooking crew, she was relieved of having to serve as well. She could just enjoy the dance. Sailors and townsfolk mixed together in the square, enjoying the spread of food and alcohol before the dance and the bonfire.
Brianna looked around for Dylan. At first she couldn’t find him, though there were other members of the Majestic crew circling the party.
“You look beautiful,” His voice came from behind her, and she smiled and turned around.
Dylan was wearing a tan linen shirt with a brown plaid vest, and even a neckerchief. “You look very well yourself,” said Brianna. Seeing him there brought back all of the ease of their previous three weeks.
He bowed in a courtly manner. “May I have this dance?”
She curtsied in return, “You may have all of them.” With that, he whisked her into the crowd dancing to the skirl of pipes and fiddles.
~*~*~*~
They danced through the evening, pausing only to sip at cider or watered ale. Brianna didn’t want to forget this night in a haze of alcohol—she wanted to burn the memory into her mind forever. Every step, every turn, every time his hand was at her waist and they looked into each other’s eyes. She wanted to remember it always.
At midnight, the bonfire was lit and the couples started leaping over it for luck for the next year and the harvest. First older couples, before the fire started getting too high, and then the newlyweds.
Brianna watched all these people that she knew, joyfully jumping over the Midsummer bonfire. She squeezed Dylan’s hand. “You want to?”
He stared at her. “You want to jump the bonfire? With me?” He seemed shocked at the idea.
“Of course, you! Who else have I been dancing with all night?” She squeezed his hand again. “It will be a great memory.”
Dylan seemed to breathe again. “Yes. Let’s do this. Jump the bonfire.”
They got in line, holding hands. The flames leapt higher as they got closer, so Brianna gathered her skirt in one hand to make sure that it didn’t catch a stray spark.
Finally, the way was clear. They ran forward and jumped high and wide over the bonfire, to tremendous applause from everyone in the town square. When they landed, Dylan picked Brianna up and twirled with her, before setting her gently down.
Brianna was breathless from laughter and the jumping, and when Dylan set her down, she looked up at him. His eyes were warm and filled with emotion, and before she realized quite what was going on, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
Some part of her registered the whoops and cheers from her family and friends, but her focus was on Dylan. How soft his mouth felt on hers, and the scent of the ocean that always seemed to waft around him. His hands were warm on her face, and she just wanted to keep on kissing him forever.
The moment ended, and Dylan pulled back, looking intently into her eyes.
Brianna smiled. “Let’s go home.”
~*~*~*~
So that’s what all the fuss was about.
~*~*~*~
The next morning, she felt him moving about the bedroom, gathering his clothes. “We can light the lamp, if you need to,” she said, before she opened her eyes. The pre-dawn light crept into the room, and Dylan had lit a candle. He was half-dressed, with breeches on but without his shirt.
Brianna saw his face and knew that he was leaving. She took a deep breath. “May I write to you? At your ports of call?”
“Yes,” he said, and sat down on the bed. “I never thought this would happen, truly. It was enough to be your friend, and its all out of order…”
‘Dylan,” she said, “I have no regrets. This was just right, just for us.”
“No but…I should have done this properly, spoken to…someone. I don’t know.”
Brianna cocked her head at him. “Who, my da? Uncle James? They haven’t been able to control me since I moved in with Nan.”
“No, not control. But to make sure that you’re taken care of, just in case.”
“No,” She sat up in bed, tucking her arms around her knees. “I’ve been taking care of me for ages, as well as Nan. I will miss you, but I’ll be just fine. Okay?”
“Still,” Dylan paused, and took off his chain and locket. “I decided to get it engraved instead of miniatures. It’s for you.” With that, he looped the chain over her head. The cool silver tingled against her skin.
Brianna looked at the locket. On one side was written ‘Dylan Roane’ and on the other ‘Brianna O’Donnell’. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
He leaned forward. “Reynolds will want to leave with the tide, and I must go. I love you, Brianna.”
She reached up to caress his face and kissed him sweetly. “I love you too. And I’ll miss you. Please come back when you can?”
Dylan closed his eyes and nodded. “When I can.”
With that, he left.
Brianna curled up in her bed and sighed to herself. She’d gone and done it—fallen for a sailor married to the sea. She pressed her lips to the locket and went back to sleep.
~*~*~*~
Over the next few days, she worked in the pub and started a letter to Dylan. She tried to make it breezy, about the silly things that happened in the pub or what she saw in the garden or on the shore. She would stop writing whenever she felt the words ‘I miss you’ straining out of her pen, so the letter was a bit disjointed. Still, it was there, and she knew she would send it off sooner rather than later.
It was only when walking home at night, through the quiet of the sleeping town, that she allowed herself to miss him. Brianna would hold the chain and locket in her hand and wish by the moon and stars that Dylan would come back to her, that they would find a way to be together.
~*~*~*~
August
Brianna didn’t feel quite right. Her clothes felt tighter, and she was hungry all the time.
She went to see Aunt Cat, who took one look at her and brought her to the town midwife—Aunt Mairi.
“And you haven’t been sick in the mornings, have ye?” asked Aunt Mairi. “Or feeling tired all the time?”
“No,” said Brianna, “Just really hungry. I thought that was why I wasn’t fitting into my clothes, but my courses haven’t come in a while.
Catrin and Mairi exchanged glances.
“What? What is it?” Brianna looked from one aunt to the other. “What’s going on?”
“Dear heart, when you and Dylan were stepping out together, did you do more than ‘step out together’?” Aunt Mairi gestured unhelpfully.
“Mother of God, Mairi! She’s old enough, and you know Our Mum wouldn’t have left her ignorant! Bri, sweetheart, did you and Dylan make love?”
Brianna looked back and forth again. “Am I pregnant?”
“Congratulations?” said Aunt Mairi.
Cat glared at her sister. “Yes, Brianna. You are with child.”
“Can I not be?”
Mairi shook her head. “There’s ways, but they’re chancy, don’t always work and you could die.”
“I could die birthing! It happens all the time! Almost happened to Mum!”
“We’ll be with you, every step of the way.” Cat glared at Mairi. “And we don’t need to be spreading rumors. We’ll set up a wedding license for you and Dylan, make sure it’s all legal.”
Brianna took three deep breaths. “I need to…collect myself. Think about this. I know there’s nothing to be done about it, but I need a little time to myself?”
Mairi looked at her sharply. “Not about to throw yourself into the sea, are you?”
“No, though I might yell at the sea for a while.”
Catrin nodded sagely. “That’s all right, then.”
~*~*~*~
She lost track of time, walking down along the bluffs that lead to the shoreline. Pregnant. She’d known it could happen, but really? The first and only time?
She made it to the rock, their rock, where they had truly spoken. Seagulls wheeled overhead, and if she looked in the right direction, she could see seals bobbing in the waves, just like on that first day.
Brianna took a deep breath and screamed, loud and long, at the enormity of her situation. She swore at the sea, cursed Dylan and his ancestors, and all men everywhere, down to her wee cousin Ciaran. She vented all of the rage of her situation at the ocean and the birds and the seals and the fish, until she was exhausted. Finally, she sat down on the rocky beach and let her tears of frustration flow as the water washed over her shoes.
“No wonder he wanted to talk to my da, or Uncle James. He probably knew this would happen.”
A sudden bark sounded. She looked up.
A seal was humping towards her. It had come ashore a little further along the beach, and now was very close. Closer than she’d ever been to a seal before. It barked at her.
Brianna froze. This was a wild animal, and though she loved to watch the seals play in the surf, it was a completely different situation to have one right next to her. She grasped her locket for comfort.
The seal spotted her movement and came a little closer. Brianna did her best not to move. It came within a foot of her, sniffed at her, and sneezed.
“Hello,” Brianna whispered.
The seal smiled and waggled its whiskers at her. Then it nosed in the rocks next to Brianna and picked up one in its very sharp teeth. It dropped the stone into her lap, then backed quickly away.
It sneezed again, performed a gesture that was very like a nod, and humped into the water.
Brianna looked down in her lap. A piece of blue sea glass rested there.
~*~*~*~
She wrote to Dylan on the Majestic at his next few ports of call. “Am with child. Please write.” They probably were not the best of letters but got the point across. Hopefully he would write back sooner rather than later.
The Ryan and O’Donnell families rallied around Brianna. Second cousin once removed Michael who was also Father Ryan, swore that she was married secretly by him, and he had the documents to prove it to any who asked. Privately, he said he’d perform a quick ceremony the next time Dylan came into port and backdate to the day before Midsummer, to keep it all legal.
James cut back her hours at the bar but kept paying her the same wages. Catrin and Mairi made sure she had plenty of food in the house, and she was forever finding little things they had done for her. Fresh fruit appeared regularly in her kitchen. Cousin Sara helped her let out her dresses and remade some old outfits from her mother’s generation into something she could wear.
Great-Uncle Jock, the family woodworker, crafted a cradle out of oak for her. He polished it until the wood was smooth as silk and buffed to a warm glow.
Anyone who dared say a negative word about her condition was put firmly in their place.
Brianna still went down to the sea. Though the seals never came that close again, she knew they were leaving things on the rock where she watched them. Usually, it was beach glass or pretty rocks, but one time she found several oysters which proved to have pearls in them, and another time she found some sea-weathered coins that Uncle James brought to Dublin to sell for her. At first, she wasn’t sure of what to think of these mysterious gifts. Eventually though, she concluded that the seals liked her, and had decided to show it in this strange seal manner.
She took her sea glass and began crafting jewelry out of it. It was something she could do with her hands and could hopefully continue after the baby came.
She received no letters from Dylan.
~*~*~*~
December
Being pregnant in the cold was the worst, but there were some good parts to it. She constantly had cousins bringing heaps of wood for her fireplace, and the house, which had been thoroughly caulked and insulated during Nan’s last years, was gone over again. The tiny drafts which once annoyed her disappeared. The windows all fit snugly in their frames. Knitted blankets, sweaters, and infant clothes passed down from one branch of the family to another filled the house.
Brianna still missed Dylan, but that ache and anger calmed into an occasional annoyed thought that he would not be a part of his child’s life. She would care for her child, and do the very best by them, and damn him if he didn’t want to be a part of that.
If he had truly loved her, he would be here now. But he wasn’t.
Evenings were the best time of day, even with these very short days of December. In the evening all of her much loved and yet constantly present relatives went home and left her alone with her tea and her jewelry making. She could read, if she wanted to, or just gaze into the fire and think of nothing at all.
One cold night, as she put the kettle on the fire, snuggled in a lovely green sweater knitted by her mother, a knock came at the door.
Mairi had taken to checking in on her in the night; she had tried to persuade Brianna to spend the rest of her confinement with family, but Brianna refused. This was her home and she was staying here. Nan had birthed all of her children in that bed, and Brianna would do no less.
Another knock at the door. Brianna called out, “Be right there, Mairi, everything is just fine!” She opened the door.
Dylan stood there, He wore a watch cap pulled low over his ears, and a heavy wool coat. A brown and grey fur scarf was wrapped around his neck.
Seeing him, all of her anger bloomed again. Brianna all but dragged him into the house.
“You give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call my cousins in to beat you bloody!”
“…I…”
“You know, I knew you had to go. The tide was turning, and your ship was leaving. I accepted that. But I thought you would write, and maybe reach out every so often.” Brianna glared at him, feeling slightly ridiculous in her green sweater, cozy slippers, and warm scarf. “I truly believed that once you got my message about being with child, you would find a way to get in contact.”
She folded her arms over her belly and glared at him even more.
Dylan looked down and took a quick breath. “Oh, Bree, I’m so sorry.”
“You should be.”
He smiled at her, that soft, foolish smile of his that made his eyes twinkle. “You look beautiful.”
She snorted at that. “I look like a beached whale wrapped in knitting. And don’t change the subject.”
“No, really, you’re glowing.” He sighed. “I didn’t stay with the Majestic. We met up with the Colby in the first port, and a couple of their hands got injured during a storm and had to stay in port and heal. My cousin Eammon was on the boat and asked me to help out.”
Brianna eyed him suspiciously. “A cousin.”
“Yes, a cousin. And by the time anyone thought to forward my mail to the Colby, it was December and I just…jumped ship and came here as quick as I could.”
“And just how quick was that?”
“Three days ago.”
“Three days ago?” Brianna shook her head. “I don’t believe it. How could you get to Bantry Bay so fast, even if the captain of the whatever ship you took went full out? My da was a sailor; I know how far those cargo ships run!”
“As I said, I jumped ship. Swam here.” Dylan held out his hands. “I’m a selkie.”
“Ohhhh, you are so not a selkie! They don’t exist!” Brianna stormed at him. “You couldn’t come up with a better lie than something as unbelievable as that?”
He cautiously removed his coat and hat, and then the sweater he wore underneath. He placed the fur scarf on the table.
“What…what are you doing?”
“Showing you. I should have told you at Midsummer, if not sooner. I could have shown you any time during our walks on the shore.” As he spoke, he stripped off his clothes, even his socks. She noticed that they were mismatched and unraveling, and part of her wanted to knit him a new pair.
Finally, he stood naked before her.
Brianna could not help but remember Midsummer night, and how much she liked his arms, and chest, and…all the rest.
“Now watch,” he said, and draped the fur scarf over his shoulders.
Brianna gasped. In his place was a seal, a large harp seal in her house. It looked at her and cocked its head in a very human gesture. It lifted a flipper and waved.
She sat heavily in her chair. “What the fookin’ hell, Dylan?”
He changed back. “I’m so sorry, I should have told you. I didn’t know you would…you know…”
“Get with child from certain activities?” Brianna said archly. “Well, now I’m the size of a house, and you’re naked when you’re not a seal and…”
“And I love you. I still love you, after all these months away.” He knelt in front of her, one hand on the arm of the chair. “If you still want me to go, or sign something, or anything you want, I’ll do it.” Dylan reached for her hand, but backed off when she flinched away.
“Was that you?”
“Was who me?”
Brianna sighed. “In August, when I found out about my…condition…I went down to our spot on the shore. After I spent some time swearing at you and cursing the world, a seal came up to me and gave me a piece of blue sea glass.” She held his gaze firmly. “Was. That. You.”
“No,” said Dylan. “It was probably my sister. She hates being in human form, but she was curious about you. Since you’re her sister-in-law, now.”
“But we’re not married.”
“Yes, we are.”
“No, I think I would remember that. Standing next to you in a church, cousin Father Mike saying the wedding Mass, signing papers.”
Dylan shook his head. “When we jumped over the bonfire, we were married. In my family, a wedding happens when you come to an understanding. First you talk to her father, then you give her a personal gift, then you jump the bonfire. Or bone-fire, as we call it. After that, you’re married.”
Brianna gaped at him. “That is…you mean, when I asked you to jump the Midsummer bonfire, you thought I was asking you to marry me?”
“…yes?”
“And you said yes, to someone you had known only three weeks?” Brianna regarded him, a little smile playing over her face. “Well, it’s clear I’d best marry you properly, because no one else is going to put up with your little ways.”
Dylan grinned broadly.
~*~*~*~
Dylan stayed. They were married (quietly) by Cousin Father Mike, who backdated the paperwork as promised.
Dylan got a job on a local fishing boat that came in and out of the harbor every day and spent every night beside Brianna. Brianna went back to the pub three days a week, as ‘Brandy’ to serve sailors whiskey and wine. The rest of the time she made beach glass jewelry to sell and tended the garden that the fairies (so Dylan said) had so thoughtfully cared for.
Brianna gave birth to a healthy baby girl in March, right around the Spring Equinox. They named her Brigid Anne.
The seals loved her.