The Souls of Drowned People

Chapter Twenty Two

If Cillian had been planning on getting up early and doing anything special for my birthday, it didn’t work. He was still asleep when I woke up, in his typical sleeping style— tongue hanging adorably out of his mouth, limbs sprawled all across the bed. His hand was lying beside mine, and I remember prying my fingers out of his in the middle of the night, once our hands started to sweat.

            I crawled over him and wandered out to the kitchen.

            My mother and Rachael were awake already, and looking at the empty couch where Cillian should have been sleeping, I realized that nothing was secret anymore.

            Rachael didn’t seem to mind. She hopped up to give me a quick pat on the cheek with her warm hand. “Happy birthday, dear.”

            We both looked at my mother.

            “You’re eighteen now,” she said blankly, and went back to staring at her tea.

            “Is Cillian still asleep? Goodness, I don’t know how the both of you are fitting in that bed. It’s small enough for Cillian as it is.”

            That got my mother to look up.

            “Oh,” Rachael said. “Well, I’m sorry to say it, Deirdre, but we shouldn’t be surprised. Being friends with such a lovely girl . . . Cillian was bound to fall for her at some point. But aren’t they both the most precious things? Moira blushes so easily, but I don’t see any harm in bringing it up. They’re happy, and that’s what matters.”

            “Mmm,” my mother said.

            Bridget came running out of her room, skidding to a halt in the doorway when she remember the scary angry woman who had come to their house in the rain and the wind. I nodded to let her know it was okay. If anyone should be afraid of Deirdre McCabe, it was me.

            “Happy birthday, Moira!” Bridget threw her arms around me.

            “Go raibh maith agat,” I told her, and she clapped her hands excitedly.

            “Did you hear that? Moira can speak Irish now!”

            “I learned from the best.”

            “Can Moira open gifts now?” Bridget asked, bouncing around the room. “We don’t need to wait for Cillian. Do we, Moira?”

            I smiled. “I do like presents.”

            “She’s more excited than you are,” Rachael chuckled, as Bridget rushed off to gather my birthday presents.

            Bridget could be excited for me. It’s hard to be excited about gifts when you know the sea is waiting to give you death as a present at the end of the day.

            Bridget came back, her arms piled with boxes. She set them down on the table in front of me, pointing at the one that said “love, Bridget” on it. Clearly I was supposed to open that first.

            I pulled away the lid, digging through the crunchy tissue paper. It was another dress, this one long and white, the kind of dress that I knew could make a girl feel like a princess.

            “It’s beautiful, Bridget.”

            She beamed. “You’re going to be beautiful in it, I just know it! You should try it on.”