theresetbutton (theresetbutton) wrote in nextdoor_redux, @ 2012-09-09 01:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | 12.15.12, becky, becky and cathair, cathair, npc: amy, npc: sadhbh |
A Fairytale World
Who: Becky, Cathair, Sadhbh (NPC) and Amy (NPC)
What: Arriving in Ireland
When: 12.15.12 - Saturday, before dawn
Where: Londonderry, Ulster, Northern Ireland
Warnings: None
Becky was nearly ready to pass out by the time they finished their flight. Luckily it had gone pretty smoothly. Getting out of the airport was more of a trial than the flight had been. With two sleepy children and bags to collect and put in the rental car, it took almost an hour to get away from the building. Once settled into her carseat, Amy had fallen back to sleep easily. Sadhbh hadn't been too far after her, curling in against the seat and one of the blankets that Becky made sure to have in her carry on bag for just such an occasion, the other draped over Amy's carseat.
Settling into the passenger side, she too had ended up falling into a slumber, leaving poor Cathair to make the drive in silence. After all the fuss the last few days, he probably enjoyed it, however. When they pulled into the driveway of his childhood home, however, she stirred a little. The car coming to a stop roused her and she yawned, opening her eyes and turning her head towards Cathair. She smiled sleepily. "Are we there yet?" she teased.
It had been a long trip. Cathair had attempted to sleep on the flight, that way he'd be awake for the dawn trip from Sligo's airport to Derry City. Not that his father's house was in the city proper, that just added half an hour to their trip. He was glad when he could see the ivy covered walls of the manor house in the horizon. Their rental car had a GPS, but he didn't need it. He could find the house blindfolded. "Aye," he told his new bride as he put the car in park and hit the release for the boot. "I sent Mrs. Door a text, she ought to be waiting by the door. Let's get you and the girls settled in the house before I get the bags."
Becky nodded a little, smiling at him and leaning over across the space between them to steal a small kiss. Thank goodness. A nice soft bed would be wonderful right about now. "I can get Amy if you want to carry in Sadhbh," she murmured softly, not wanting to wake either of the girls. Carefully she climbed out of the car, closing the door as softly as possible behind her and glancing up at the house. Oh heavens. She blinked a little and looked across the top of the car at Cathair. "You lived here?"
Well, that was a better reaction than he'd been expecting. Cathair shushed his daughter as he unfastened her safety belt and plucked her from the car. Sadhbh looked up, saw the house and smiled, before laying her head back on her father's shoulder and falling back to sleep. "When I wasn't at school, yes," he said as he headed for the stone steps leading up to the front of the manor.
A woman in her sixties with her hair tied back in a bun, dressed in a sturdy looking housedress came out to greet them, stopping to look at Becky and Amy. "Saints alive," she murmured. "For a moment I thought it was my time. Your pictures don't do you justice, my dear. You really do look like an angel." She smiled at Amy. "The wee one, too. Let me help you inside. There's a frightful chill this morning."
Becky carefully removed Amy from her seat and lifted her up, resting her against her shoulder and collecting the diaper bag to drape over the other one. Another thing she'd gotten from her father was her heavy sleeping. She didn't so much as make a peep when Becky moved her, nor when she carried her to the door. Upon reaching the door and being greeted by the woman, Becky could only blush and smile back at her. Cathair told her all the time that she looked like an angel but hearing it from each new person she met never ceased to make cheeks heat up.
"Thank you," she murmured to the woman, her voice quiet as she followed her into the house, still surprised by how big the thing was even if she'd been warned. It was massive really. Grand. She looked over at Cathair, the disbelief clear on her face. "It's beautiful," she breathed.
Cathair smiled when Becky blushed so prettily. She did strongly resemble and angel and certainly she'd heard that all of her life. "Mrs. Door, this is-" he began, before being briskly cut off by the elderly woman.
"Och, we can do that in a minute," she dismissed. "When your bride and children are settled someplace warm." She led them into the house and towards the grand staircase. "I've made up Cathair's old room for girls. Its right next to his mother's room, which is ready for you two when you're ready to retire. You look as shattered as the girls, sweetheart." She opened the room, which like the house before Becky moved in, was spartan save for a bookshelves full of books. "My eldest Bill brought up the crib his babies used and set it up for your little one. Put the girls to bed and I'll put on some tea. Are you hungry? Wait, you've been on planes with their horrible food. Of course you're hungry."
Becky was a bit surprised by Mrs. Door. The way she was fluttering about, you'd think that she had all the energy in the world. Being tired on top of being jetlagged, Becky couldn't have dreamed of being so bubbly and determined. She wasn't going to argue with the woman's hospitality or eagerness to help, so she just smiled at Mrs. Door and nodded. "Airplane food does leave a lot to be desired," she agreed as she moved towards the crib, setting the diaper bag down on a table on the way there. She gently laid Amy down on the mattress and pulled the blanket up over her body, leaning down enough to press a kiss to her cheek. She still didn't stir. She merely snored quietly which amused Becky and made her shake her head a little as she moved away from the crib.
Cathair knew better than to argue, especially as the woman had a point. He wanted to get the girls settled in bed before he dealt with his father's housekeeper. There would be questions and he gave her about an hour before she was attempting to convince them to stay for good. He couldn't blame her, even though her children and grandchildren lived nearby. As it was his whole life, the ancient family manor was quiet and empty. "Thank you," he said to the elderly woman, surrendering Sadhbh to her. Who woke up long enough to smile at the woman while she recognized her before dozing off. "Just leave her dressed," he told Mrs. Door. "She's been sleeping in her clothes this long, a few more hours won't hurt her."
The elderly woman clucked her tongue but didn't argue. She just tucked the little redhead into the bed in the room, picking up a battered teddy bear and settling it next to her. Cathair recognized it, it had gone missing in the move from Ireland. It was the only toy Sadhbh had left from home, the only reason it had survived was because it'd been in the car the night of the fire. "She left it," the woman supplied when she caught him looking. "To keep me company." She smiled wryly at Sadhbh, then turned back to Becky. "Come on, let's go downstairs and get you both something warm to drink at least. They'll be fine for a bit, I'm certain." She shooed to the exhausted looking couple towards the door.
She couldn't really argue with the woman and was much too tired to bother doing so even if she'd wanted to. She took a moment to kiss Sadhbh goodnight and headed out of the room when Mrs. Door shooed them. She reached for Cathair's hand in the hall, lacing her fingers through his and giving them a little squeeze as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Something warm to drink would be wonderful. And likely just help her sleep better so why not take advantage of the offer?
Cathair crossed the room to kiss both girls and make sure they were tucked in well before he let Mrs. Door hustle them out of the room. The manor house was drafty in the winter, although the weather here was much warmer than it had been in Boston. There was still a wet chill to the air.
Mrs. Door's idea of something warm to drink might either be strong tea that would do nothing for their sleeping or a hot toddy with enough whiskey in it to fell a barful of Irishmen. He just had to figure out how to warn Becky without offending the woman who was basically a second mother to him.
"How was your flight?" she asked as she led the couple down the stairs. "I watched the weather reports over the path the whole time." Mrs. Door shook her head. "Can't abide flying. Gives me nerves. I don't know how your father does it, Cathair."
Cathair let out a noncomittal grunt. His father had never seemed to mind all the traveling, but he'd done it for as long as the Irishman could remember. He was relieved when she led them into the kitchen. It was the only room he really had fond memories of, the only room in the big empty museum that was the Delaney home that actually looked like someone used it. It was warm and modern and was nothing like the rest of the house. "Sit down, sit down," she bid as she bustled over to the stove and pulled down a large cast iron frying pan. "I'll fix you up some breakfast." She looked over at Becky and smiled. "If you haven't guessed already, I'm Mrs. Door. It's nice to meet you, dear."
Becky settled down into one of the chairs, liking the warmness of the kitchen and the homey feel it had to it. It did look much less like a museum and more like a happy place than what she'd seen thus far, but she didn't mention that thought. She just glanced around, taking in the room before turning her eyes on Mrs. Door when she addressed her. "Rebecca," she said, knowing the woman already knew as much. "It's lovely to meet you too. You keep such a beautiful kitchen," she commented, eyes panning the room once more.
That's because I've never let Mr. Delaney in here since I took over," she said with a wry smile. "The man would have it full of antiques as well. Which is all well and good for sitting rooms and libraries, but a kitchen has to be functional. Dear man, he's spent too much time reading fairytales. I think he'd quite lost touch with reality from it."
Cathair let out a soft snort at that, frowning when Mrs. Door poured a generous amount of whiskey in both of their tea. "We're-" Saints, he was too tired to be delicate about anything, so he opted for something more polite. "Rebecca doesn't drink."
The woman looked surprised at that. "Really?" She shook her head. "I suppose that makes sense, considering she's only been married to you a few days." She winked at Becky and poured her a cup of straight tea. "You'll want some milk for that, dearie. It's a bit strong."
Becky hardly ever drank to begin with. Then she'd gotten pregnant with Amy and didn't drink because of the pregnancy. Then she had breastfed and opted to not drink for that reason. She arched a brow at Mrs. Door as she poured the whiskey into the tea. She almost opened her mouth but Cath beat her to it, thankfully. She smiled at Mrs. Door when she gave her the cup of regular tea and nodded a little at the comment about milk. "I can get that," she said, standing up and moving to the refrigerator. No need for the woman to serve her when she could collect the milk on her own.
Cathair opened his mouth to warn Rebecca, but it was far too late by the time he realized his wife had gotten out of her chair. "You will do no such thing," Mrs. Door said. "Sit your bum right back into that chair. You're on holiday, you've just flown halfway around the world and I don't get to take care of visitors of any sort anymore. So you sit there and enjoy not being on a plane and I'll do my job and everyone'll be happy." She moved to fetch the milk from the icebox, giving Cathair a look that clearly said she blamed him. He just looked wearily into his teacup before draining most of it.
Yes, this was why he didn't come home much, even when he'd lived in the same bloody country.
Well then, perhaps she would indeed have to let Mrs. Door serve her. She didn't argue, settling down in her chair again and wrapping her hands around her tea cup. It was warm and felt nice against the bare skin of her palms. "Thank you," she said to the woman once she'd gotten the milk and poured some of it into the cup. Picking up a spoon, she stirred the liquid and gave a gentle smile to Cathair who looked tired. Exhausted. Curling up with him would no doubt be the highlight of the day.
Yes, he knew what that look was about. He hadn't explained how things were and therefore, he was to blame for Becky's faux pas. He knew he'd have to explain sooner or later, now that she'd seen where he'd grown up and met the family's housekeeper. Mrs. Door insisted on things done properly, the only reason she referred to him by his given name was because she'd known him since he was a small boy. Cathair waited for the woman to refill his tea cup, passing on the whiskey himself this go. Not that he didn't need it. Although now that he could smell the fry up Mrs. Door was making, his stomach was reminding him how long it had been since he'd eaten anything substantial.
"Have you lived in Boston your whole life, Rebecca?" she asked conversationally while she cooked. "I've heard it's very nice there. Save the weather. Apparently the weather is harsh and horrible. Leastwise compared to here. We just quite a bit of rain. Doesn't snow or get overwarm here. Which'll be nice for your exploring, I'm certain."
Becky was well aware of just how quiet her husband had gotten. The more time passed, the quieter he became. After taking a sip of her tea, she sat the cup down and reached over to gently rest her hand on Cathair's. It would be over soon enough and they could get to bed and maybe talk about what had him so quiet though she was pretty sure that he was just tired.
At the older woman's question, Becky shook her head a little. "No, I grew up in Plainfield. It's not far from there, same weather and all. My brother and I moved to Boston not long after Amy was born." She left out the reason for it and just went on with a partial explanation for the move. "I wanted to leave some memories behind and start fresh." Which was true. She was glad that there'd be no snow and though she'd not seen any of Ireland in the light of day or in person for that matter, she knew it would be beautiful. "I'm looking forward to exploring," she admitted. "I've never been out of Massachusetts," she explained. "Til now."
It was more than Cathair was tired. He managed a small smile for his bride. Part of it was habit. Mrs. Door was fond of the sound of her own voice and always had been. Conversation wasn't necessary, just someone to talk at. Also, he'd spoken to the woman less than a week ago over the telephone, so he had little impart on her that she didn't already know. Becky had hit the nail on the head about leaving some memories behind. Being here, being home, being in Ireland, had already started stirring up such memories for him. So he had withdrawn a bit.
Mrs. Door didn't find Cathair being quiet any kind of odd. He'd been a quiet, serious boy who'd grown up into a quiet, serious man. Of course he was tired as well and likely just wanted to go upstairs and curl up with his new bride and sleep off the jetlag. The poor man. And Rebecca as well. They were likely both done in. She made sure their teacups were filled before plating up a goodly amount for both of them. The more loaded plate was set in front of Rebecca. "You're too thin," she declared, then smiled at both of them. "More tea?"
Cathair just tucked in, shaking his head. "No thanks," he murmured. He was thankful that the woman wasn't joining them for breakfast.
"I'll just be doing the ironing in the laundry room down the hall," she said, figuring the two of them hadn't had a moment alone in days. "Call me if you need anything. Plenty of tea in the pot."
Becky wasn't surprised at being told she was too thin. She'd always been a thin sort, she and Colin both. She heard it plenty from Cleo, especially now that she had gained baby weight and hated any woman more thin than she was. It was typical of any pregnant woman, however, so Becky didn't think too much of her annoyed glares. In truth it amused her. She didn't think too much of Mrs. Door's words either but that was more because her eyes were on the plate set before her and her stomach was growling appreciatively.
"Thank you," she said. Then at the question for more tea, she shook her head. "No, thank you. We're fine." She watched her leave the room, picking up her fork and taking a bite of the decidedly unhealthy but delicious food on her plate. The hum of approval that escaped her was likely compliment enough to the chef. She took another couple of bites before looking over at Cathair. "And you left here why?" she teased.
Cathair gave Rebecca a look, then went back to eating. Right. He took a drink of tea and wiped his mouth before bothering to respond. "Because vampires might come after me and my daughter to finish the job," he reminded her pointedly. Then sighed at himself and shook his head. "Sorry, overtired. I should have stuck with not saying anything."
She blinked a little, her face falling at his words. She hadn't meant for it to bring that sort of response. Becky let her eyes move back to her plate and focused on the food instead. He was right. He was just tired. There was no need for her to let her feelings get hurt over something silly. "I'm sorry," she told him quietly. "Mrs. Door seems nice," she said, directing the conversation elsewhere.
Now he felt badly. He hadn't meant to snap at her. "It's not your fault, Rebecca," he assured her, reaching out to place his hand over hers for a moment. "There's a lot of memories here that I've left behind. I'm just trying to settle with them." He nodded. "She's a lovely woman," he agreed. "My father wouldn't manage without her, even if he's never here. She's the only reason this place hasn't fallen to ruin from neglect."
She nodded a little. She couldn't imagine how difficult it was for him to be back here again. Well, actually, she could. It was hard to go back to where her parents lived, to trudge up old memories of Robbie and her life before the accident. But his death was just one. A single black mark on her history. Cathair had several black marks. It wasn't the same at all. Not really. Setting her fork down, she took his hand in both of hers and turned to face him. "It will all be alright," she assured him, smiling gently at him. "So where do you plan on taking me after we've slept off our trip?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood and perhaps get a smile from her husband.
More than Rebecca could know. Not only were Liadan and the boys buried on the property here, as well as his mother, there was his entire childhood in this big lonely house. The situation with the woman who'd just left the room. Leaving Ireland behind had let him escape all of that. But he knew from experience he couldn't run from it forever. Couldn't keep it all from Rebecca without keeping her out. That wasn't fair to her. "I'm not certain," he admitted. "Likely the grounds first, although I should let Mrs. Door do that. She's the caretaker after all." He shrugged. "Is there anyplace in particular you want to see?"
Becky had to admit she felt a little out of place in this big house. In Ireland really. It was different and new and it was all Cathair's life before her. His first marriage, his first wife. His children. Even Mrs. Door. While she fit into his life now, she didn't really fit into his life before and thus felt a little like a square peg trying to be put into a round hole. Perhaps that would change when they got out of the house and she could see the land, the flowers, the green that Ireland had to offer. Regardless, this was her honeymoon and she would have been happy to be in a cardboard box so long as it was with Cathair.
She shrugged a little at his question. "I don't know," she admitted. "The only things I've seen of Ireland were via google," she laughed. "So... green stuff, flowers and castles?"
That made Cathair chuckle. "Well, we managed to cover those pulling into the drive," he admitted. "The main part of the house was a keep from the 10th century. The rest of the house was added on later on. So there's your castle. And well, it's green and there's flowers everywhere." He smiled at her. "I'll take you and the girls into the city tomorrow. Do some Christmas shopping, have lunch at the pub Dad used to take me to when he'd let me visit the college he taught at when I was a small boy. There'll be brochures and you can decide if there's anywhere else you'd like to go."
"You're absolutely right," she said, grinning. "Well, I've seen everything. Time to get back on the plane and go home," Becky teased. She released his hand and picked up her fork again, not about to waste any of the deliciousness on her plate. She liked his plan for the following day. Who wouldn't want to go shopping no matter the location? "That sounds lovely," she nodded. "I still have to decide what to get Cleo and Colin. He's always been difficult to buy for and Cleo, well, I don't want to give her nothing but baby things. That's not exactly for her."
Cathair nodded, then groaned. He dug out his cellular and shook his head. "Tomorrow's Sunday," he said. His body clock was all askew from jet lag. "So I'll wager we'll add Mass at the church I attended when I grew up to that plan." He smiled at her. "You'll like it. It's a lovely building. I can't remember when it was built, but its one of the oldest ones in Derry City." Something else he could share with her.
"I'm sure I'll love it," she nodded, glad to see a smile on his face again. "So we'll catch up on a little sleep this morning, you or Mrs. Door can show me around the grounds later and tomorrow we've got a packed day once the jet lag wears off. Perfect." It sounded just fine to her and she was already looking forward to it. Polishing off the last bit of bacon on her plate, she let out a soft hum. "I will most definitely miss her cooking when we do go home," she admitted as she took a sip of her tea. "Now, how about you come to bed and keep me warm?"
Cathair chuckled. "That sounds like a lovely idea indeed," he agreed, then finished off his own meal. He stood up, hoping to at least clear up before Mrs. Door realized they'd finished eating. "Here, hand me your-"
"I hope there's some plans for you two to spend some time alone in there?" Mrs. Door speculated, crossing the room and taking Cathair's plate from him. "She ate more than you did, Cathair. You'll need your energy, considering you're on your honeymoon."
Cathair resisted the urge to palm his face. "Thank you, Mrs. Door," he muttered, then looked at Becky. "We'll be heading to bed for awhile."
She picked up Becky's plate as well. "Have a good rest, both of you," she said. She smiled at Becky. "Don't worry about the girls. If they wake before you, I'll make sure they have something to eat and such. I had the groundskeeper take up your bags to your rooms. So they have their things. Good night."
Becky flushed at the woman's words. Heavens. She smiled at her though and got up from her seat, thanking her once more and saying goodnight before following Cathair to their room. Once there, she decided against unpacking her bags until later and instead just looked through one for a nightgown. While she had several made entirely to tease Cathair, she picked a simple cotton one and changed into it, settling onto the edge of the bed and collecting her purse, where she'd kept her brush. "I think the both of us could use a good night's sleep after the plane ride," she murmured as she drew the brush through her curls. "I don't know how your father can ride planes all the time and not be firmly exhausted."
Cathair opened the door between the rooms and looked in on the girls. Who were still fast asleep, despite the strange room they were in. Leaving the door cracked enough they could hear the girls, he crossed over to his own bag and dug out a pair of pajama pants. "He's done it as long as I can remember," he said. "I have no idea either. It always takes it out of me to fly. Sadhbh loves it though. Gets it from him I think." Looking up at the dresser, he could see that the same pictures that had been there when his mother had occupied this room were still there. Finding his parents wedding picture, he offered it to Becky to look at while he changed. "I think Sadhbh looks like my mother," he said softly. "Especially when she's saying something we don't want her to."
She took the picture from him, looking over it while he changed. Sadhbh did look like the woman in the picture. A great deal really. Finishing with brushing her hair, Becky sat the brush on the side table and got up from the bed, crossing the floor to her husband once he'd returned. She slid her arms around his waist, offering him the picture back and looked over the other pictures his eyes and latched onto. "You get that look too, you know," she smiled. "Even if you are so straight and narrow," she teased. "Occasionally the playful little imp comes out of you."
Cathair put the picture back and scoffed. Turning to face her, he wrapped his arms around Rebecca. "Does it now?" he teased back. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I was never an imp. I was far too serious for that." He leaned down to kiss her, finally starting to relax since they'd arrived. "I'm sorry about not warning you about Mrs. Door. She's from the old school of servants, which means doing anything for ourselves is implying she isn't doing her job properly. It's best not to argue with her." It was something that frustrated him, especially to the extent the woman took her place.
"You're not always serious," she murmured. "Sometimes you're wonderfully playful," she grinned. She returned the kiss, glad that he seemed to be relaxing, even a little. She shook her head at his apology. "I've never had a servant," she admitted. "It's going to take a little getting used to but now that I know, I'll just let her do her job and enjoy being lazy," she grinned. "I can go back to doing things for myself when we leave the fairytale world and return to freezing cold Boston."
Cathair chuckled. "Only with you, mo aingeal," he told her. "Nobody else can bring that bit of me out so well." He kissed her again. He nodded. "That's what this place has always been to me. A fairytale land far removed from the rest of the world. Sometimes it was a lovely escape, most of the time, it was rather lonely." He let out a long breath. "And now I'm being melancholy. I just need some sleep. Both of us do."
"It won't be lonely this time," she told him. "You've got me. And your daughters. We'll be plenty of anti-lonely for you," she assured him. Gently she brushed her fingers over his cheek and kissed him again. She looked over at the pictures again and smiled. "You were adorable," she murmured. "Still are, of course, but this one is especially cute," she said, pointing to one of the pictures of him in a school uniform, glasses perched on his nose. "We'll make beautiful babies, you and I," she teased, turning her attention to him again and grinning. "Mrs. Door is right. You should get some rest. You'll need it."
He smiled when she said that, leaning down and into the kiss. "Definitely not lonely now," he murmured against her lips. Then she had to notice the pictures of him as a boy. Saints. "I was a wee little anorak," he dismissed. He'd hated the glasses back then, but didn't have any choice about not wearing them. "Well, I got teased as one until the bullies found out my sport was boxing. Then they chose easier targets." Cathair chuckled. "Oh yes, we will definitely make pretty babies." He leaned down to kiss Becky again. "So will you," he assured her. "Now stop talking about making babies when neither of us have the energy for such things. It's cruel."
"You were adorable," she told him again. And he was. Cute as a button. "Mmm," she said softly, nodding a little and getting one more kiss from him. "You're right," she sighed. "I'm going to have to settle for a good snuggle. We'll make up for our exhaustion later," she murmured, reluctantly letting go of him and heading back to the bed. Crawling beneath the blankets, Becky pulled them up over herself and turned onto her side, letting Cathair flick off the light and do the same. "I'm glad we came," she murmured as she curled in against him. "It's nice to see the rest of your world."
He settled into bed, drawing Rebecca into his arms and against his chest. He leaned down to kiss the top of her curls, shaking his head. "No, mo chroi," he said softly. "This hasn't been my world for a long time. My world is with you and the girls. Not here. Now go to sleep."
She would have said more but she was too tired and she knew he was too. He also was too warm and felt too good for her to bother leading the conversation on. So she just nodded a little, curled in tighter and closed her eyes. "I love you," she murmured softly. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Rebecca," Cathair murmured against her curls. "I love you."