Seacliff

Chapter ninety-five: Fourth of July

1982

Pauline scoffed at the Fourth of July decorations her daughter had put up around the veranda. Too many stars and stripes and bullshit bravado for her liking.

"What is it, Mom?" Saoirse stepped through the French doors with a tall glass of iced tea in each hand. "You're not feeling very patriotic today?"

Pauline stopped rocking in her chair and scowled. Strands of her greyed hair fell over her shoulders as she stretched to take a glass. "When have I ever been patriotic?"

Her daughter chuckled. "That's true."

Saoirse sat down in the other rocking chair, separated from her mom's by a round side table. The suburban house backed onto a patch of thin woodland and wild shrubs, a green oasis in a world obsessed with steel and concrete. White picket fence and everything. Saoirse hoped Stacy's kids would like it.

"It's funny, though," Pauline said, sipping her tea.

Saoirse glanced her way. "What is?"

"Your name. Remember what it means?"

The daughter shrugged. "I don't know. Irish-something."

"Freedom."

"What?"

"Saoirse is Irish for freedom," Pauline clarified.

Saoirse laughed. "How very American!"

"Tell me about it."

"How did you come up with it?"

Pensive, Pauline twirled the ice cubes around her glass with her straw. Saoirse flattened her feet on the ground, to keep her chair still. Her mother's silence heightened the tension, despite the birds chirping in the trees and the wind roaring like waves through the foliage.

"It was your grandmother's name," Pauline whispered. "On your father's side."

Saoirse gulped. "My father's...?"

"Your real father, Saoirse."

Saoirse's breath hitched. She left her half-full glass on the table and wrung her trembling fingers in her lap.

"His name was Aidan Mortimer," Pauline continued. "And he was – or, in fact, he might still be, I sure hope he's alive – he was half selkie, just like me. His mother was an Irishwoman by the name of Saoirse Mortimer, who lived in Scotland."

"What – I mean – " Saoirse stood up and paced barefoot around the veranda. She came to an abrupt halt in front of her mother. "Why are you telling me this now? I mean... obviously, I've known for years that the man who lived with us in Alaska wasn't my father. My biological father. I've always thought that maybe you didn't know who he was or that... he died, or something. So, why... why bring this up? Why now?"

Pauline chugged down her drink. The remaining ice cubes clattered when she slammed the glass down on the side table. Saoirse's heart skipped a beat.

"I'm not sure how much longer I've got," Pauline admitted, leaning back in her seat.

"What... what do you mean? Mom..."

"I didn't lose my sealskin, Saoirse. It was stolen from me. By Soviet spies who attacked the selkie colony I used to live in. Way up north from here, on the Canadian coast."

Saoirse blinked. "Soviet spies?"

"Yeah, it was at the time of the Rosenberg trials. Or, well, just before."

"Rosenberg?"

"Yes, come on, Saoirse! Did you sleep during your history classes?

Saoirse crossed her arms over her chest, defensive. "Whatever. What about them?"

"Well, not long before they were arrested, a Soviet commando stormed the colony grounds in the dead of the night. We had very little forewarning. Your father, he... Well, he was home in Scotland, with his mom. Her husband had just died."

"My grandfather?"

"No, not your – " Pauline stopped short. "Yeah, I guess you could say so. It was... complicated. Anyway, Aidan was away. Hence why I'm holding out hope that he survived. I helped as many of the civilians as I could."

"Civilians?"

Pauline sighed. "Yes, we had kind of a... special forces unit, I guess. Combat-trained selkies, who helped defend the colony. I guess you could say I was a captain."

Saoirse's eyebrows shot up. "A special... selkie forces captain?"

Pauline laughed. "Yeah, something like that. I had been training your dad for ten years. He was one of our most promising recruits. He'd fought in World War Two and as far as most humans were concerned, he died at Dunkirk. Only his very close family members knew he was alive in America."

Saoirse sat back down again. "So, what happened? After that night?"

Pauline shrugged. "I... abandoned my sealskin and ran. I never saw him again. I – " She touched the wooden pendant she wore around her neck. A green-painted tree-of-life. "For a while, I thought he might have betrayed us."

"What? Why?"

"Well, it was awfully convenient that he had to be away from the colony during the most unexpected, vicious attack we'd ever experienced. Then I realised I was pregnant. And said, to hell with it. I'm not going back to that life. I'm not putting my baby in danger. That's why... That's why we've been living under the radar like this. I wanted us to be safe."

Saoirse reached for her mother's hand.

"Anyway..." Pauline sniffled. "Traitor or not, I... loved him. I did. And his mother was one of the fiercest, strongest women I've met. So, I figured it wouldn't hurt to honour his memory by naming you after her. Saoirse. My freedom. You have no idea how much I love you."

Saoirse bit back the tears stinging her eyes. "I love you, too, Mom."