The Pink Suit: A Novel by Nicole Kelby

apricot. The sherry. The cakes. Even that sip of beer. It had all been too much, and Kate felt it rise in her throat when Patrick leaned in to the woman and whispered something. Kate tossed a nickel on the bar for Mr. Brown and was turning to leave when Patrick saw her. He smiled, which confused Kate. He seemed pleased to see her in spite of the other woman and pushed his way through the crowd. The woman at the bar watched him go. She had on thick eyeliner and frosted white lipstick— What a sight, Kate thought.
    When Patrick reached Kate, he pulled her close. Chanel’s package was wedged between them.
    â€œThis is a stunningly pleasant surprise,” he said, and leaned over the box and kissed Kate on both cheeks. It was as if the other night had never happened. Kate wasn’t sure what kind of welcome she expected, but now she felt foolish. Patrick was wearing cologne that smelled like something her father would wear to church: old-fashioned and lush with sandalwood. It wasn’t something a butcher would wear, Kate thought. The woman at the bar was watching them so intently, as if they were the finals at Croke Park. Down or Offaly?
    â€œI should go,” she said, but Patrick couldn’t quite hear her. The music was too loud. Even the floor was shaking.
    He shouted over the din.
    â€œDid you get my peace offering? Am I forgiven, then?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œSlipped it under your door. Let’s go outside. I can’t hear.”
    The musicians slid from a ballad into a reel. The crowd erupted into dance. They were boisterous and bumping against Kate and Patrick.
    â€œI have to go,” Kate said, and clutched the Chanel box even tighter.
    Patrick stepped back a moment and looked at her closely. “Have you eaten? You’re looking a tad nawful.”
    â€œNot like that prostitute, I suppose?”
    Kate didn’t mean to say that out loud, but the woman just wouldn’t stop staring at them.
    â€œThat was uncalled for.”
    Kate suddenly felt ill. She pushed past Patrick and into the bathroom. He followed her in.
    â€œA little privacy, please,” she said.
    â€œKate. This is the Gents’.”
    Chanel’s package fell onto the floor. Kate tried to pick it up, but the room felt as if it banked hard to the right. Kate dropped her coat and leaned over the sink. Óinseach. What a fool . Patrick Harris rubbed her back gently. “Cough it up, girl. You’ll be fine.” He wetted a paper towel and placed in on the back of her neck. It felt good. “You know, you’re very pretty when you’re jealous.”
    She gave him the surly look that he deserved, and he laughed, obviously quite pleased. The water on the back of her neck made her feel a little better. Or maybe it was just the sound of his laughter. “You don’t have to enjoy this so very much,” she said.
    â€œBeen a long time since a girl fancied me enough to heave. It’s quite a touching gesture.”
    A man opened the door and saw the two of them leaning over the sink.
    â€œGive us a minute?” Patrick said.
    The man closed the door quickly. Kate felt even worse.
    â€œWonderful. I’m sure this little event will be in the church bulletin now.”
    â€œProbably right under the photos of the Knights of Columbus pancake breakfast.”
    Kate wasn’t quite in the mood for jokes. She was sweating hard. She took a handful of cold water and drank it. “I’m sorry. Your girl must think I’m quite the sow—”
    â€œShe’s not my girl. She’s just a girl. Actually, I was hoping you’d come.”
    Kate leaned up against the wall. Patrick picked up her coat from the floor, shook it out, and folded it gently over his arm. He picked up the Chanel box and blew on it just to make her laugh. He stood there smiling at her like Peg’s boy, a good boy, the kind of boy who doesn’t forget his mother’s birthday. He was an