Page 27 of One Chance to Stay
The door jingled. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
She had followed. It’s not like I could escape without looking as if I had something to hide. Holding up the brown package from the meat counter, she gave me an elbow to the side.
“If I knew, I’d have ordered an extra steak and had you join us.”
“Not sure Seamus would want me there.”
“Not sure I’d care.” Grace giggled. It was already more levity than I had seen from her father. “Dad’s not exactly swimming in friends.”
“I’m not exactly a friend.” Half-truth.
“Mind if I join you?” As I strolled along the sidewalk toward the Harvest & Vine, she stayed at my side. “Not exactly a friend and friend are the same thing with him. If you couldn’t tell, he’s sort of?—”
“A grump?”
“You took the words out of my mouth. He likes to pretend that he’s this hermit out on the farm. He was never a social butterfly, but he had friends when I was a kid. Now…” Her voice drifted. I had seen it first-hand. Seamus had built a world in which he looked in from the outside.
“Are you in town checking on Pops?”
“I work for Human Services and had to do a final home visit for Danny and Lea.” She laughed, smacking me on the shoulder. “You have no idea who they are.” Maybe not, but I’m sure I would. “It’s common knowledge. They’re adopting the boy they’ve been fostering. It was supposed to be temporary, but—” She leaned close, her voice jumping an octave. “I can’t wait to tell them they’re getting the final seal of approval.”
“That sounds like news worth celebrating.”
We had passed Jason’s comic shop and the barber. A handwritten ‘Coming Soon’ hung in a window covered with newspapers. The owners were a couple in their thirties who had spent their summers in London and wanted to bring the pub experience to Firefly. I rooted for them. Every bit of culture snuck into a small town made it a better place.
“It’s not always good news. I can’t wait to see Jake’s eyes light up. They don’t know it yet, but during our meetings, he already refers to them as Mom and Dad.” The smile had stretched across her face. I’m pretty sure she did a little victory dance. “I figured while I was in town, I’d grill some steaks with Dad. Next time, you’ll have to join us.”
She didn’t relent. Grace would go out of her way for her father. I had a thousand questions for her, but I didn’t want toinsert myself into family matters. If I showed too much interest, she might read between the lines. I didn’t trust myself to not accidentally out her father.
“Are you bartending Walter’s bachelor party?”
I shouldn’t be surprised. It seemed as if it was the talk of the town. “Abraham roped me into it.”
“Have you met Walter?” I shook my head in response. “Oh, you’re in for a treat. Walter is a lot. In a good way. Maybe I’ll see if I can get my dad to attend.”
“Your dad knows Walter?”
She frowned, head tilted to the side. “You really aren’t from Firefly. My dad might be a hermit, but he’s still part of the community… sort of. I made him take the job at Logan’s, forcing him to be around people.”
I spotted Julie inside the store. Knocking on the window, I gave her a wave. “If he needs convincing, tell him I’ll have a good bottle of whiskey set aside for him.”
“Youdoknow the way to his heart.” She held up the steaks. “I should head to his place. I’ll make sure he puts in an appearance tonight. And thanks.”
“For?”
“Getting Dad out of his shell.” If she only knew. She jumped over a snow bank and walked along the street before getting in her car. I’d spend the rest of the day replaying our conversation, dissecting every word. As Julie flipped the locks on the door, I prayed I hadn’t put Seamus in an odd spot with his daughter. Yet, the thought of him showing up at the party tonight made me smile. I’d put up with a bunch of drunk bachelors for another chance to see him.
“Patrick, back so soon?” She waved me inside.
“I have a whiskey emergency.”
“Oh, let me show you a limited batch we just got in from Canada.”
I couldn’t wait to see his face as I poured him a glass. Or better yet, when they clinked together and we shared a drink.
Notthe bachelor party I envisioned.
The upstairs of the American Legion stood like a time capsule. Dark wood paneling covered the walls, reflecting the bright neon-orange shag carpet. The bar had been wrapped in soft leather, a similar neon to the rug. If that wasn’t enough to hurl me back fifty years, the men attending the bachelor party were old enough to have drunk here the night construction finished.
