breathing soul. Ya hear?” What child is going to refuse a gift like that from his father in exchange for simply keeping quiet? Secrets, secrets, secrets. The Irish way. She ought to know: she was keeping secrets from her parents.
“Let’s get going,” Sandra said wearily. She turned to her mother. “Gina’s in bed, obviously. These two can stay up late tonight, since it’s Saturday.”
“How late?” LJ asked.
“Gran will decide that.” Turning to her mother, Sandra continued, “If Lucy comes skulking home with the bag of bones in tow, tell her that if he doesn’t go, she’ll be getting no allowance from me. As if that’ll matter,” Sandra said to Erin under her breath. “She’ll just run to that no-good father of hers and boo-hoo it, and he’ll give her whatever she wants so I look like the crap parent.”
She sighed. “You have my cell number and the number at the Oak, right?” she checked with her mother.
“I do.”
Sandra kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks so much, Mam.”
“Ah, you know me. A right sucker for punishment.”
She looked at LJ and Oona sternly. “I better get a good report from Gran when I get home. Ya hear me?”
The kids nodded earnestly.
Sandra’s mam smiled at Erin as she jerked a thumb in Sandra’s direction. “Keep an eye on this one, will you?”
“Don’t I always?”
Erin had no intention of getting even the slightest bit tipsy, since she wasn’t much of a drinker. Sandra, on the other hand, sometimes needed a bit of looking after. She’d always been able to put away the pints. It embarrassed Erin sometimes.
They were out the door and halfway up the street before they realized Sandra was still holding the bat.
“It’ll only take us a min to run it back,” said Erin.
“Don’t be silly. I’m bringing it with us to the Oak. That way if Larry comes in, he’ll get the message loud and clear that if he messes with me, he’ll be walkin’ out with a head cracked open like a melon.”
“Meanwhile, everyone else will think you’re mad.”
Sandra grinned. “And when have I ever given a toss about that in my life?”
* * *
“Jesus, Mary, and Saint Joseph. If I had false teeth, they’d be dropping to the floor right about now.”
Old Jack’s exclamation as Rory and Jake walked through the pub door together had the exact effect Rory knew it would: it killed conversation.
“You always were melodramatic, Jack,” Rory said, enjoying the look on people’s faces, especially the Trinity. He could hear their pea-sized brains working furiously:
What the hell is Jake doing with Rory? The feck’s back in town less than two weeks and already Jake has let bygones be bygones? Jakers is a good sort, but this is sheer weakness.
“You two kiss and make up?” Bettina asked dryly as Rory and Jake sidled up to the bar.
“Looks that way,” said Rory.
“That’s putting the cart a bit before the horse, mate,” said Jake. Rory smiled tightly, ignoring the light laughter that came at his expense.
Rory nodded at Jack. “Two pints, if you please.” He was feeling pretty good right now. The hometown crowd could hold grudges for decades, but now that they saw he and Jake were making amends, their hatred of him might loosen its grip. And once he and Erin were back together, well, he’d be back to being the pride of Ballycraig.
Jack plunked the pints down before Rory and Jake. “C’mon, then. We need a good story to cheer us up, especially after the way Galway got slaughtered today by Sligo. How did you lovebirds reunite?”
Jake smirked. “Didn’t this one come knockin’ at my door beggin’ for forgiveness.”
“I didn’t
beg
,” Rory corrected, mildly irked.
“God forbid the Great One beg,” muttered Teague Daly.
Rory rounded on him. “First of all, there’s only one Great One, and that’s Wayne Gretzky. Second of all, you got something you want to say to me?”
Teague shrunk in his chair. “No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“Let’s get going,” Sandra said wearily. She turned to her mother. “Gina’s in bed, obviously. These two can stay up late tonight, since it’s Saturday.”
“How late?” LJ asked.
“Gran will decide that.” Turning to her mother, Sandra continued, “If Lucy comes skulking home with the bag of bones in tow, tell her that if he doesn’t go, she’ll be getting no allowance from me. As if that’ll matter,” Sandra said to Erin under her breath. “She’ll just run to that no-good father of hers and boo-hoo it, and he’ll give her whatever she wants so I look like the crap parent.”
She sighed. “You have my cell number and the number at the Oak, right?” she checked with her mother.
“I do.”
Sandra kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks so much, Mam.”
“Ah, you know me. A right sucker for punishment.”
She looked at LJ and Oona sternly. “I better get a good report from Gran when I get home. Ya hear me?”
The kids nodded earnestly.
Sandra’s mam smiled at Erin as she jerked a thumb in Sandra’s direction. “Keep an eye on this one, will you?”
“Don’t I always?”
Erin had no intention of getting even the slightest bit tipsy, since she wasn’t much of a drinker. Sandra, on the other hand, sometimes needed a bit of looking after. She’d always been able to put away the pints. It embarrassed Erin sometimes.
They were out the door and halfway up the street before they realized Sandra was still holding the bat.
“It’ll only take us a min to run it back,” said Erin.
“Don’t be silly. I’m bringing it with us to the Oak. That way if Larry comes in, he’ll get the message loud and clear that if he messes with me, he’ll be walkin’ out with a head cracked open like a melon.”
“Meanwhile, everyone else will think you’re mad.”
Sandra grinned. “And when have I ever given a toss about that in my life?”
* * *
“Jesus, Mary, and Saint Joseph. If I had false teeth, they’d be dropping to the floor right about now.”
Old Jack’s exclamation as Rory and Jake walked through the pub door together had the exact effect Rory knew it would: it killed conversation.
“You always were melodramatic, Jack,” Rory said, enjoying the look on people’s faces, especially the Trinity. He could hear their pea-sized brains working furiously:
What the hell is Jake doing with Rory? The feck’s back in town less than two weeks and already Jake has let bygones be bygones? Jakers is a good sort, but this is sheer weakness.
“You two kiss and make up?” Bettina asked dryly as Rory and Jake sidled up to the bar.
“Looks that way,” said Rory.
“That’s putting the cart a bit before the horse, mate,” said Jake. Rory smiled tightly, ignoring the light laughter that came at his expense.
Rory nodded at Jack. “Two pints, if you please.” He was feeling pretty good right now. The hometown crowd could hold grudges for decades, but now that they saw he and Jake were making amends, their hatred of him might loosen its grip. And once he and Erin were back together, well, he’d be back to being the pride of Ballycraig.
Jack plunked the pints down before Rory and Jake. “C’mon, then. We need a good story to cheer us up, especially after the way Galway got slaughtered today by Sligo. How did you lovebirds reunite?”
Jake smirked. “Didn’t this one come knockin’ at my door beggin’ for forgiveness.”
“I didn’t
beg
,” Rory corrected, mildly irked.
“God forbid the Great One beg,” muttered Teague Daly.
Rory rounded on him. “First of all, there’s only one Great One, and that’s Wayne Gretzky. Second of all, you got something you want to say to me?”
Teague shrunk in his chair. “No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
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