Читать книгу Here with Me - Holly Jacobs - Страница 10

Mary Eileen Singer crept from her grandmother’s house before the sun rose on her tenth birthday, just as the first pink rays danced over the lake. Even though it was August, the morning air was cool. The ground felt wet beneath her bare feet, which was just perfect.

She bent, ran her hands over the damp grass, then raised them to her face and scrubbed.

“Ah, there’s something magic in that first dew. Back in Ireland they said if you washed your face in it, the next man you’d meet you’d someday wed. There’s something magic about becoming a woman, too. You put those two wee bits of magic together and you have something special,” her grandmother had said the night before.

Her grandmother had been right about so many things that Mary Eileen fully expected to soon meet this man whom she’d one day marry.

“When you’ve washed your face in the morning dew, you’ll see him and you’ll know,” Grandma had promised.

Face duly washed, Mary Eileen hurriedly ate her breakfast and dressed carefully. It wouldn’t do to meet the man she was going to marry looking less than her best.

She went and sat out in front of the cottage on her favorite rock, waiting for him.

Waiting was no hardship. Her grandmother’s small cottage overlooked the lake. Not the well-tamed sandy beaches that lined Lake Erie’s peninsula, Presque Isle, farther to the west, but a rocky, wild section of shoreline east of the city.

As she sat, she daydreamed about her soul mate. He’d be tall and he’d smile a lot. He’d want nothing more than to spend all his time with her. He wouldn’t work long hours as her parents did and he’d…

Her imagined list of future-husband dos and don’ts were interrupted by a voice calling her name.

“Mary, Mary Eileen.”

Panic swamped her as she recognized the voice.

What had she done?

This couldn’t be the magic.

Oh, yes she knew that voice. She was waiting for the man she was going to marry, not for Matty Benton. There was no way she was going to marry him someday.

She covered her eyes with her hands. Hoping that if she didn’t actually see him, she’d be safe from the magic.

She heard his feet crunch the ground as he approached.

“Mary Eileen, what are you doing?”

She pressed her hands harder against her eyes so that not even the slightest sliver of light penetrated. “Nothing for you to worry about, Matty Benton.”

“I came to see you,” he said.

“Well, I can’t see you today.” She tried to think of an explanation for her covered eyes and finally said, “I had stuff put in my eyes at the doctor’s and can’t open them until tomorrow. If I look at the sun, I could go blind.”

“Oh.” He paused and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. You can go now.”

Even at ten, Mary Eileen knew she was being more than a little rude, but the longer Matty stayed, the greater the risk. No way did she want to marry him. Not horrible old Matty Benton. If she had to be mean in order to prevent it, she would be.

“That’s what I came to tell you, I am going. I’m leaving Erie.”

“Leaving?” she echoed.

Matty was a pain. He’d moved in with the Johnsons a year ago and was two years older than she was. He should spend his time willingly ignoring her like the rest of the older neighborhood kids did, but Matty wasn’t the type to do what he should do. So not only did he not ignore her, he seemed to live to tease her.

She hated that, but it didn’t mean Mary Eileen wanted him to leave.

“Yeah. Social Services found my dad’s brother. My uncle Paul. He lives in New York City, so I’m moving there.”

“Oh.” New York City seemed worlds away from the sleepy beach outside Erie. “Are you glad?”

There was a small rush of air and Mary could almost picture Matty’s characteristic shrug.

“Doesn’t much matter,” he said.

But it did matter.

She knew it did, even if Matty wouldn’t say so.

“I’m sorry, Matty,” she said softly.

It was her birthday and she was going to meet the man she’d marry. She should be celebrating, but instead, she felt sad and realized it was because she’d miss Matty Benton. He might be a pain, but there were occasions, like now, when he wasn’t teasing her and she sort of liked him.

“What have I told you about calling me Matty?” he asked, his voice all deep and scary.

Matty had never scared her a bit. Annoyed, yes, but not scared. She laughed at his attempt to do so now. “Matty’s better than Matt. There’s just no way you’re a Matt.”

“Everyone else and their brother calls me Matt.”

“They’re wrong.” She paused a minute and added, “But you’re right. You’re not exactly a Matty either.”

“So who am I?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” And she felt a wave of loneliness that he was leaving and she’d never get to find out just what his name should be.

“Sorry about your eyes,” he said.

She felt guilty for that lie. “Sorry you’re leaving.” She thought about telling him she’d miss him, but she couldn’t quite get the words out.

There was another slight rustling of the air, and she knew Matty had moved. Something soft brushed against her cheek.

Matty Benton had kissed her.

Right after that thought, she heard the sound of rapid footsteps down the small stone path.

The gate creaked. “Bye, Mary Eileen. There’s not much I’ll miss about Erie, but I’ll miss you. I left you something on the fence post.”

“Bye, Matty.”

And though she knew she shouldn’t, though she knew she was tempting fate, she cracked her interlaced fingers the merest smidgen and peeked at the boy who was walking away.

“Goodbye, Matty.”