Assumptions by C.E. Pietrowiak Page A

man at the bar and
shook her head. “I want you to meet some friends," she said and
hopped out of the booth.
    She walked directly to the bar. A few moments
later, she returned with the young woman who was neatly dressed in
black pants, a crisp pink shirt, and a spotless white apron. The
gentle curves of her face and kind expression lent her an
extraordinary tranquility.
    The man stashed the towel behind the bar and
followed, moving with unconcerned confidence. The shallow cleft in
his chin was still visible through two days’ stubble. The lobe of
his left ear sagged under the weight of a chunky earring. He
grinned and his dusty blue eyes were surrounded by deep laugh
lines.
    “Jordyn and Will, this is Devin and Tierney.
Jordyn and Will are my new friends from Eastview.”
    Devin waved, her hand small and plump.
Tierney crossed his arms and leaned back. He eyed Deirdre. "You'd
be wise not to get involved with this one." He let out a loud
guffaw.
    Deirdre smirked. “Tierney harasses me every
time I come here.”
    "Devin tries to keep me in line, but it’s a
tough job,” said Tierney.
    “You know it,” retorted Devin. Her accent was
American and, although she spoke with deliberate clarity, each
sound practiced and precise, her words were soft and round.
    "Devin keeps us all in order around here.
We’d be completely lost without her,” said Tierney
    Devin giggled. “You’re just trying to get on
my good side."
    “Nice to meet you,” said Jordyn. Will
nodded.
    Devin grinned at Jordyn. “What beautiful
hair. I always wanted strawberry." Devin's eyes sparkled, dark blue
flecked with white.
    “Thanks,” said Jordyn.
    Devin's watch beeped. "It's time. Wait here."
She disappeared down the dark, wood-paneled hallway at the back of
the room.
    “Tierney, has Oisin been in?” asked
Deirdre.
    “I saw him earlier. Devin sent him out for
something. Not sure what," said Tierney.
    Devin returned with a tarnished silver tray
of mismatched cups and saucers, a nested stack of heavy spoons, and
a plate of small pastries. The tray clattered as she plopped it
onto the table. "I'll be right back." She vanished again, returning
quickly with a steaming pot of tea, a small pitcher of milk, and a
glass bowl filled to the rim with sugar. She set the teapot at the
center of the table and arranged the milk and sugar, one to either
side of the teapot. She poured each cup half full. “That’s better.”
She stepped back to admire her work.
    “Thanks, Devin," said Deirdre.
    Devin pulled a bar towel from her apron and
wiped a couple drips of tea. "Okay. Back to work for me.
Tierney?"
    "Ah, back to work for us." They returned to
the bar, Tierney to his polishing and Devin to her chatting.
    The front door opened. A young man in a black
hoodie stepped though the morning light, stopping just inside. He
scanned the room. His ice-blue eyes caught Jordyn. She looked up at
him and her mouth curved into an unconscious smile. She watched him
cross to the bar where he stopped to talk with Devin.
    Will interrupted. "Quig?"
    "Huh?" said Jordyn.
    "I was telling Deirdre about the file and
about what Pritchard told us."
    "The file?" Jordyn shook herself back into
the conversation at the table. "Uh, yeah, the file. I'm still not
convinced stuff like that actually exists. Seems like a serious
leap to me."
    Deirdre fixed herself another cup of tea.
"You should never underestimate the power of faith. Sometimes that
is all you need."
    Will leaned back in his seat and watched
Deirdre pour in the milk which roiled up below the surface like the
clouds before a summer storm.
    Devin nodded toward their table and the young
man looked over again. He pushed his hood back onto his shoulders.
He had a boyish face, his skin creamy pale against his short
cropped auburn hair. He nodded at Devin then walked toward the
table.
    Deirdre looked toward the bar. “Oisin!” She
jumped out of the booth and wrapped her arms around him. He was
about their age and not much taller