Page 18 of Almost Priest

She had been seven years his junior and still in school when the twenty-two year old man fell in love with her. Colleen and Paulie had been the first to know about the secret affair, but when Maureen’s father found out, he threatened Frank with a shotgun. Sam still wasn’t sure if the man actually took a shot at Frank or not. Kelly, who was tending bar, told her his father actually had a scar from his grandfather’s gun.

When Frank absconded with Maureen on her eighteenth birthday and returned with his love under the name of Maureen McCullough, her father was furious. It wasn’t until Frank built his wife a home that the girl’s father actually accepted the union. Legend had it that it wasn’t the age or secretiveness that disappointed Maureen’s father. It was the fact that they’d been married in a courtroom and not in a house of God.

As Sam listened to the love story, she smiled and stared glassy eyed at Mr. McCullough. He might not say much and appear gruff, but he possessed a romantic soul.

Colleen even told her that on Frank and Maureen’s first date, he had taken her for a picnic in the woods. At some point during the date he stopped to carve their initials in a tree. It was Katherine who informed her that that exact tree with her parents’ initials now rested inside the McCullough walls where Maureen could see it every night before she fell asleep.

It wasn’t long before the already rowdy crowd became drunk and unruly. Something called a car bomb was being passed around. Sam wasn’t sure of the exact ingredients, but knew it included a pint of black beer and some kind of shot that was dropped in, shot glass and all.

The men dropped the shot and the dark beer faded to a creamier tint as the shot swirled and clouded the brew. They tilted the drink to their mouths as the creamy liquid rose and didn’t stop until they slammed an empty glass on the bar.

Once Rosemarie cleared away the food, the older couples said their goodbyes and headed out. Other than a glass of wine, Sam had nothing but soda to drink. The air was on in the bar and her seat happened to be under a vent. Braydon was in the middle of a dart game with Finn so she told Kelly she was going to run out to the truck to grab her sweatshirt.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying him or herself. Pat, Sheilagh’s cousin on her Aunt Rosemarie’s side, was actually a very sweet kid. She could see why Sheilagh was so close to him. Pat had spent some time talking to Sam about his feelings for Emily Miller whom he assured was nothing like her older sister Jen. While they spoke, Sheilagh was hanging around the guy named Tristan.

When Sam stepped outside she was surprised to see it was already dark. A wide puddle of light poured from above the door, but the rest of the parking lot was blacker than pitch. She quickly went to the truck and grabbed her sweatshirt. It was colder in the mountains than it was in the city or suburbs.

She shut the truck door and paused to slip the hooded sweater over her head.

The clap of the bar door slamming followed by fast moving, heavy footsteps had Sam shoving her head through the neckline and looking to see who was coming.

Through the cars parked in the lot she could only make out the torso of someone tall. The door slammed again and this time Sam saw Tristan come out. She was about to head back to the bar, but froze when she heard the tone of Tristan’s voice.

“Luke. Luke, stop damn it!”

Luke stopped, faced Tristan, and placed his hands on his hips. “What?”

“Don’t leave. I’m sorry.” The other man approached Luke.

Sam remained hidden in the shadows, not wanting to get in the middle of whatever argument they were having. Although she could not see their faces anymore she saw some of the tension leave Luke’s posture.

“I’m not gonna stand there while you’re flirting with my sister. It’s misleading and you know it. You wanna play mind games with some girl, pick someone other than Sheilagh.”

“I was just having fun with her. I wasn’t leading her on.”

“You were, and you damn well know it. If you like her, fine, that’s a whole other argument we can have. But you and I both know she’s not your type.”

Tristan stepped closer. In a hushed voice he said, “No, she’s not my type.”

“Then don’t lead her on. She’s my sister. She doesn’t deserve to get her feelings hurt. She’s young.”

“I’ll be more careful. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”

Sam’s eyes were getting tired from straining in the dark. There was a sound of something rustling in the woods behind her and she wanted to get back inside. She heard gravel crunch and looked back to Luke and Tristan. What she saw took her completely by surprise.

Tristan’s hand gripped the back of Luke’s neck while Luke’s hands wrapped in Tristan’s hair. They were kissing aggressively. They were kissing with urgency.

Sam covered her mouth in shock. She wondered if the others knew that Luke was gay.

If they did they didn’t necessarily know he was involved with Tristan. If that were the case surely Sheilagh would have resigned her feelings long ago. On the other hand, maybe there was nothing here except for—

“Love you.”

The whispered statement took away any notions that this was a one-time thing she was witnessing. They were in love. Their rugged breathing echoed through the empty lot and she noticed they were still standing very close.

“Come on. Let’s head back in. You go first. I’ll follow in a few.”

So they were still in the closet with the others. Luke walked back into the bar and a few minutes later Tristan followed.

---