Page 2 of St. Lucia Escapades
“Well, damnit all to hell.” Cord O’Brien grumbled lowly as he stood in the empty room surveying the damage before him.
“It’s not as bad as it looks actually,” his brother Collen began. “The second the sprinklers started the fire department was in route.”
“But there was still enough damage to cause us to shut this place down for what, three maybe four weeks?” Cord pointed out.
“Three.” Collen sighed.
Cord gnashed his teeth and kicked at an empty beer bottle that had been dropped. Last night, some drunk college frat boy decided to re-enact a scene from Coyote Ugly and in turn, damned near burnt the bar down. Luckily, this particular bar was two blocks away from a fire house, so the firemen got there in less than two minutes and even luckier still, no one had been hurt. Cord ran his hand through his dark mahogany brown hair in frustration.
“What do we know about the kid that started this?”
Collen cleared his throat, “The kid is a senior at NYU. The cops arrested him for drunk and disorderly, destruction of public property and public endangerment since the place was packed last night. The kid’s father has already reached out and wants to meet with us this morning.”
Cord growled, “No doubt to minimize the situation. Alright, call the dad and let’s meet over at the diner. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to need food.”
Half an hour later, seated at Cord’s favorite New York diner, he and Collen watched in shock as the councilman for the Upper West side, Eugene Walker, walked in and joined them, “Good morning gentlemen.”
“Um, morning Councilman Walker.” Cord managed to say.
“Look, let’s not beat around the bush. Because of last night’s events the three of us have a lot on our plates this morning,” as Walker started things off.
“What are you wanting Mr. Walker?” Collen questioned, expecting the councilman to offer money to make this go away.
“What I want? I want to use this as a teaching exercise for my son.” At the O’Brien brothers’ confused looks, Walker elaborated. “You see, my wife tends to spoil our son James. Last night was the tipping point for me. I’m going to teach that boy that his actions have consequences. What I’m offering gentlemen is simple. Not only will my son pay for the damages out of his trust fund, but he will also help in getting your place cleaned up and running.”
Cord and Collen were floored. This city official was not only offering to pay, but he wasn’t trying to buy them off to keep his son out of the papers. “You’re serious sir? The press will no doubt…”
“It’s Cord O’Brien, right?” Walker asked and Cord nodded. “Cord, as I’ve said, for too long James has believed he can do what he wants with no consequences. That stops now. After last night’s little stunt, his mother has finally agreed that James needs to be taught a lesson.”
“And the press? We doubt we could keep the identity of your son out of this for too long.” Collen added.
“I’ll handle the press. I’m not going to minimize this and will be telling the truth. And before you ask, no this is not some PR spin to win votes. I may be a New York councilman, but I’m first and foremost a father.” Walker said. “So, do we have a deal gentlemen?”
Cord and Collen looked at each other then back at Walker. Cord spoke then, “Councilman Walker, you have a deal.”
Moira
Moira sat with her parents at their favorite Italian restaurant near the National Mall. Kiernan Donovan lifted his wine glass in toast to his daughter, “To Moira, on the completion of yet another novel. Sláinte.”
“Sláinte.” Moira and her mom repeated.
“What will you do now?” Maureen asked.
“I haven’t really thought of that yet.” Moira admitted.
“Perhaps, this will help.” Kiernan smiled handing her an envelope.
Knitting her brows, Moira accepted it and slowly opened it. What she saw inside had her gasping. It was airline tickets and a reservation for a private beach condo in St. Lucia. She knew her jaw had to have hit the floor and her eyes wide when she looked up at her parents. “Ma, Da, this is…this is too…”
“No, m'iníon.” Kiernan interrupted, “Yer Ma and I, along with Sean have been planning this for some time now. After yer Ma told me, I called Sean and he agreed that now was perfect.”
Moira got a little teary-eyed. Especially when her father had said ‘M'iníon’, “my daughter” in Irish. “I…I donna know what to say.”
Maureen reached over and took her daughter’s hand, “You can say thank you and have a good time.”
Moira felt laughter bubble up as she pushed out of her chair. She moved to her parents and hugged them both. Moira thanked God every day that she was blessed with such a loving and accepting family. When she had told them, she wanted to be a writer when she was in high school, her parents had simply told her to follow her passion. The same could be said when Sean wanted to join the Marines after 9/11. Not once did her parents set limits on her or Sean.
“It was Laura that picked the condo. She teased Seany that he didna’ understand your tastes.” Maureen added.
