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.She leaned closer. Your selflessnessis selfish. Unable to form an adequate orcohesive response to such a crypticstatement, I remained silent. Liam, lad.Did you tell her whatseeing the Washerwoman meant? I did. She smiled. Let me guess.She toldyou it didn t matter a hill o beans to her. I met her eyes. In so many words,yes. She leaned back in her chair andpicked up her teacup. And what shewants doesn t matter to you? I slapped my hand down on the table, causing my cup to rattle in its saucer. Ofcourse it matters. Yet, when she left, you were perfectlythrilled that she would be coming rightback to you. Things were different. I stood,holding the back of my chair.She set her cup down on the table. Yes.You were thinking with your heartand soul, rather than your head.Sit down. Not willing to cross her, I sat.Again, she leaned in close. Fate is afunny thing, Liam.You can t trick it.Youcan t outrun it.You can t change itsmind. You said you didn t believe seeingthe Cailleach meant certain death. My beliefs do not determine reality. Whether I think the Cailleach accuratelyforetells death is neither here nor there.What I know is that we only have so muchtime and that time should not be wasted. Keeping Anna alive is not wastedtime. I shot to my feet, fully intending toleave the room and end the conversationbefore shion befoe changed my mind.Iwouldn t allow myself to put Anna indanger.Before the phone call from MissRonan, nothing could have kept her away.Now, she was content to stay in herworld, and that was a gift I could give her.Francine pushed away from the table. What you do with my words is yourchoice, but you ll hear me out, LiamMacGregor. In deference to her, I returned I promised you a story. I picked up my tea and took a sip.Francine settled into her chair and clearedher throat. There was this girl, you see.She wasyoung and full of dreams.The problem isthat she was stuck on an island and shethought none of her dreams would evercome true. Is this an analogy for me? I asked. I d appreciate it if you would just letme tell my story and not interrupt.No, it snot you.You are a boy, not a girl. I sat back, determined to hold mytongue.I couldn t recall a time since mychildhood when Francine wanted to tell astory. It happened on Bealtaine.Several of her friends handfasting ceremonies wereto occur and she was terribly sad becauseshe did not have a fine man to whom shewould be tied.So, she set her candleadrift and wished for a beautiful man tocome love her like no human had beenloved before and she in return wouldreciprocate this love.She made this wishout loud, of course. She took a sip of her tea and stared atme.It was unclear whether she was testingto see if I would interrupt or whether shewas making sure I was alert.Either way, Iremained silent and stared right back.After nodding, she continued. Well,an Otherworlder heard her wish.Out ofthe water came the most beautiful man shehad ever seen. She patted the table. You saw that little Selkie girl; well, let me tellyou, the males are even morespectacular. She winked and I laughed. So, she looks at this man and realizeshe is her anam cara. How did she know that? She smiled. Well, she just knew.Shefelt drawn to him. I laughed. And being drawn to himhad nothing to do with the fact he was abeautiful naked man. She grinned. That certainly didn thurt.Stop interrupting. I rolled my eyes. Now, they came up with all kinds ofclever ways to be together without herparents knowing.She was worried herparents would figure out he was a Selkie and forbid her to see him.He would meether on the jetty or by the cliffs in secret.But then the Cailleach appeared to herparents and then her brother, and all diedof a fever within the span of two months,leaving the girl alone.Her lover no longerhad to hide.He held her through the griefof losing her family and filled her nightswith love. Francine s eyes filled withtears. She would have died of grief wereit not for him. She rose and filled the teakettle withwater. They were united in a handfastingceremony the following Bealtaine. Backstill to me, she took a deep breath. Hesaw the Cailleach that very night. I studied the wood grain of the tablewhile she lit the stove under the kettle.No wonder she stayed to herself on Bealtaine
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