Lysette's Gift

Much as they wanted this to last forever, too much lay between them for it to last; their bodies speeded-up, sighs giving way to entreaties, until the mutual explosion, her scream of fulfilment in counterpoint to his deep groan as he poured himself into her, tribute long kept, a gift he had never once considered that he would ever give to her again.

They collapsed exhausted, the intense emotions of the day taking their toll of both of them, but when Mike awoke in the early evening dusk, he was alone. The bed next to him was cold, and he knew he must have been dreaming again. Tears started in his eyes at the cruelty of the dream he'd allowed himself to accept as real, but just as he began to climb out of bed to endure another evening alone with his loss, he heard the front door slam.

His heart leaping into his throat, he grabbed a robe and ran downstairs, and there she was, still with him, as real as day, and just as beautiful, emptying a shopping bag into the fridge. She turned as he burst into the kitchen, dropping everything at his expression.

"Mikey...what...?" she stumbled as he kissed her wildly.

"I thought you were a dream...I thought I imagined you...!" he gabbled, holding and fondling her, reassuring himself that she was indeed real, that she was still here.

"Mikey, I just went to the shops! I had to throw out all that stuff in the fridge; I thought I told you never to buy all that rubbish! I only went around the corner...!" she giggled as he crushed her to himself.

"Let me go so I can make us something to eat, Mikey, stop it! You have to eat something, then you have to take me to mum and dad's..."

That brought him back down with a bump.

"Really? Can't we wait a couple of days?"

Lissa shook her head.

"Mikey, you've avoided them since the Wake; it's been a year; you have to stop blaming dad and make up with him; you don't need to be so angry with him anymore. I want to see them again, Mikey; I missed them so very much; please take me there, you have to, I can't just waltz in and introduce myself..."

Mike regarded her sombre expression and realised she was right; she needed to see her parents again, even if they couldn't know it was her. He bent down and kissed her quickly, even as he pinched her bottom.

"You're right; let's do this!" "

*

Mike fidgeted outside the door; he'd had no contact with John and Brigitte in a year; until now, his towering anger with his father had kept him from coming back to this place that held only memories of loss and grief. His hand hovered over the door-knocker, reluctant to cross that bridge again. Lissa pursed her lips and knocked firmly, poking him in the side as she did so, making him grin as she found his ticklish spot all over again.

The door opened, and Brigitte stood there, her mouth an 'O' of surprise as Mike smiled at her.

"Hi mum...!" he began, trailing off as her eyes filled.

"Michael...!" she whispered, her hand at her throat, and then she was in his arms, hugging him fiercely. "I never thought...it's been so long...I missed you so much...!" she sobbed into his chest, while Mike held her tight, bitterly regretting the past year he'd spent immersed in his own grief and anger, selfishly forgetting what she was going through too.

"I'm sorry mum, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he kept murmuring as he nuzzled her hair, holding her against him as she cried. Mike pulled her into the entrance hall and shut the door against the cold, still stroking her hair until her sobs died down and she was able to notice her surroundings. Her face flushed as she glimpsed the pretty girl with her son. Mike in turn grinned and gently pulled Lissa forward.

"Mum, meet Melissa Summers; this is the girl I'm going to marry. Melissa, meet my mum, Brigitte."

Brigitte's eyes widened as she heard what Mike said, a happy smile lighting up her face. As she finally turned to greet Lissa the light fell full on her face, and Brigitte paled, her hand instinctively crossing herself as her eyes widened in shock and she staggered back to lean against the wall.

"Mikey, can you...did you...what... oh my God, no, it can't be ...!" she stammered, tears starting from her eyes.

Lissa darted a quick look at Mike, shock plain in her face too.

"Mikey, she can see me, oh my God no, she can see me...!" she hissed, "What the hell...?"

Mike reached for his mother, intending to hug her, the only thing he could think of doing, but she shrugged him off, instead reaching for Lissa, her fingers gently stroking her face, her hair, to eventually cup her face in her hands and gently smooth her eyebrows, feeling her features like a blind person would, reassuring herself with her fingertips that her eyes weren't lying, while tears poured unnoticed down her face.

"Lissa!" she finally whispered, looking deeply into her eyes, seeing once more her dead daughter's calm, grey eyes. "Is it really you, have you come back to me, oh, my baby girl, how, how is it possible, how can this be? I saw...we all saw...I was there...!"

Mike flicked his eyes once more at Lissa, taking in her wide-eyed, shocked expression, the tears brimming in her glorious eyes as she stammered and blustered.

"Yes mum, it's really me, but you shouldn't...you really can see me? No, no, no, no, no, it's not supposed to be like this! I was promised that only Mikey...there was a deal...it wasn't... Mikey, help me here..."

As he watched their reunion, Mike's thoughts suddenly fled back to the Wake, to that surreal conversation with his Great-Aunt:

"Much as they like to say otherwise, sometimes, Michael-Fionn Cormac Sheridan, 'The Sight' is more than just a story to cadge drinks off of American tourists on O'Connell Street! Your granny had it, your mother has it, although she denies it...and you have enough of it to make me wonder about you, oh yes..."

His face must have mirrored his thoughts, because both Brigitte and Lissa stared at him as it all became clear to him; the Sight, of course, The Sight! It was real, Ara was right, she'd said his mother denied her gift, but that didn't make it go away, and now it was manifesting...

Mike took in both women in a glance, at his mother's tear-stained face and Lissa's head whipping back and forth as she tried to deny this was happening, and made a quick decision, quietly hustling them into the dining room and closing the double doors before his father heard anything and came to investigate. All the time, Brigitte hadn't taken her eyes off Lissa's face, gazing once again at her lost daughter, reliving the loss and tragedy, and trying to reconcile the reality of what she was seeing with her own eyes.

"Mikey, help me, tell me what's going on, I don't understand..." she whispered. He glanced again at Lissa and took in her nod even as tears streamed down her face.

Haltingly at first, Mike explained what Lissa had told him, the deal she'd made, and why. Brigitte nodded along to the story, but Mike was unsure whether it was because she believed him, or because he believed it himself, but the evidence was there in front of her; her daughter returned to her, alive and well again.

When Mike had finished his tale, Brigitte stood still, her eyes flicking from him to Lissa and back again, and when Mike would have spoken Brigitte forestalled him, instead suddenly hugging Lissa, crushing her to her breast, and when she turned to face Mike again, her face was wreathed in smiles.

"Do you see now, mum, do you believe me, in all this, that it's true?" he asked, and Brigitte hugged Lissa to her once again.

"Of course it's true. I don't know how, I don't care how, you brought her back to me, Mikey; she's here, I can see her, I can see her!"

Mike took his mother by her arms, and turned her gently to face him.

"Mum, dad can't know, he can never know; he doesn't have what you and I have, and he'd never understand; if you try to explain it to him, he'll probably think you've gone mad, so please, don't let him know. As far as he's concerned, my fiancée is Melissa, not Lissa; she's going to be his new daughter, just let him have that, and he can work it out with her for himself."

Brigitte looked at him carefully, seeing the sense in his words, and nodded slowly.

"You're right, Mikey, we'll let him find his own connection with her; it's enough that we know who she is, he'll learn to love her his own way. And now you'd better tell him your own news."

With that, Brigitte walked back out into the hallway, to call out to her husband.

Mike helped Lissa take off her jacket, doffing his own, and as he hung them on pegs, John stepped out into the hallway. Mike was shocked to see how haggard he looked; the last year had obviously been hard on him, and he looked old beyond his years, shrunken into himself, beaten down and defeated.

"Mike...so good to see you, son..." he murmured, all the stiff-necked bombast gone, and Mike's heart went out to his father, now just a shadow of his former self. Lissa nudged him, and so he took his father's outstretched hand, then pulled him into a hug. John stiffened for a second, then returned the hug, pounding his son on the back as his emotions got the better of him. John released him and held him by the shoulders, looking keenly at him.

"You're looking well, son. And who's this young lady?" he asked, obviously seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

Mike took Lissa' hand and urged her forward, sure now that his father, at least, saw only what he was supposed to see: the pretty, blue-eyed brunette she'd promised him the rest of the world would see.

"Dad, this is Melissa, Melissa Summers; we're getting married. Melissa, this is my dad, John Sheridan."

Lissa went through the pantomime of shaking hands, John obviously not recognising her, but he smiled, his face creasing into long unused laugh-lines.

"I'm so happy for both of you, Mike is a very lucky man; I hope you'll both be very happy together! You know, you remind me of someone...never mind, it'll come back to me. Come in, sit down, and tell us about yourself."

Mike and his father chatted in a way they had never managed before; no barely restrained criticism, no suppressed anger, no sniping and sarcasm; for the first time in their lives they connected as father and son; the loss to both of them had changed them both profoundly, helped along by the girl Mike had brought to meet his parents, the first ever.

When they were leaving, John actually startled Mike by hugging him, a first, and an apology, another first, for never respecting him or his choices. Mike was in a thoughtful mood all the way home; in some way he couldn't define, his feelings and attitude towards his father had undergone a radical shift. Lissa smiled in understanding and patted his knee.

"There you go, Mikey; all it needed was a little forgiveness. Now we can start over again!"

*

When he hung their jackets up in the hallway, Mike noticed on the hall table the package that 'Melissa' had delivered, that had started this whole chain of events. Attached was an envelope addressed to him, in Lissa's handwriting. Intrigued, he slit the flap and pulled out a folded sheet of notepaper.

"Dear Mikey,

"I tried to get this for you for your birthday but the specialist bookseller didn't have a copy. They did promise to despatch it as soon as they got a good one in, so here it is. Whenever it arrives, I hope you enjoy; I know how much you love a good Christmas ghost story.

"I love you, baby-boy,

Lissa"

Mike grinned and tore open the package, and laughed out loud; in his hand was a bound first edition of 'A Christmas Carol'...

POSTSCRIPT:

Mike and Lissa were married on the feast of Candlemas, February 2nd, a crisp, snowy day, in the church near Theale where his parents had married, and his grandparents before that. It was a small, private ceremony, with only immediate family present. As Lissa walked down the aisle on the arm of John, as she'd requested, Mike caught the look his aunt Ara gave him, and the sly, knowing wink as she looked at the bride, then at him. Mike breathed out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding; Ara knew, obviously she could see what he and Brigitte were seeing, and she was good with it, and her words so long ago at Lissa's wake once more came back to him, that Lissa wasn't done with them, that there was more to come, and now here it was.

With that knowledge, the last of his tension drained away as he prepared to do the thing he'd thought he'd lost forever; marry the love of his life, his Lissa, and make her his forever, in fact as well as in his heart

When their daughter was born a year later, everyone marvelled at her sea-grey eyes and flaming copper hair, the very image of her grandmother Brigitte, and Michael's lost sister, too; John and Brigitte gave their blessing when Mike named her 'Lysette', in honour of his sister. Curiously, no-one in the family ever once noticed, or commented, that Mike always called his wife 'Lissa', rather than her given name.