Tuckamore Bay

leaving the Bay again

Bill stared at Nanny Dove, shaking his head.

"I don't know what to do here. I don't know how to make this right."

"Time, me son. Dats all dat youse can do now, be given' Matty time."

"And what if time is not enough?"

Nanny Dove stopped knitting.

"Ise can't be answerin' dat, Willam. Matty bes a strong woman and she's been true a lot, buts Ise never seen 'er likes dis. She's bes all mixed up and stressed more den Ise ever seen."

"And I just keep adding to it."

"Willam. Youse can't be blamin' youse self fer what 'appened last night. Youse were out of it, as dey says. Youse weren't youse self."

Bill took a deep breath.

"Maybe you better go and watch over her. She might need some company right now and I don't think she would appreciate me being there."

Nanny Dove nodded and put away her knitting.

"Ise tinks youse jest mite be rite dere, Willam. Ise goes and keeps an eyes on 'er."

She stood up.

"Don't youse be frettin' too much dere, Willam. She's will comes 'round."

With that she disappeared.

Bill stood up and looked around the house. It was as though he were looking at it through someone else eyes. A stranger's eyes.

Suddenly it felt different. It no longer felt like a home.

He looked over at the injured seagull.

"Well Jarge, me son. I think we have some work to do."

Jarge jumped from the dog bed and waddled to Bill. Bill knelt and cautiously petted the gull's head. It cooed like a dove.

"Let's go buddy."

Bill was putting the last box, in the bed of his truck, when he saw Matty walking up the path from her cottage, holding a mug in her hand.

Bill quickly went back inside the house and took one last look around. 

As he turned back toward the door, he saw Matty standing in the doorway, sipping her coffee.

"What's going on, here?"

"I'm leaving."

"Leaving?"

Bill nodded.

"Yea. I don't belong here, Matty."

"You don't?"

Bill shook my head.

"No. I don't."

"And why is that?"