I did.
48
IT WAS A GRAND OCCASION . There was food and drink and joyful and tearful remembrances of the man we loved.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” I asked Frank.
“Only Casper.”
“You should get to know O’Connor’s — it’s even friendlier.”
I must have talked and laughed and cried with a hundred people. Barbara and Aunt Mary had set the whole thing up at Barbara’s house. Sam and Roselynn had provided some of the food. Probably one of the first Irish wakes to serve Thai food.
I avoided the booze — I wanted to give my head a chance to stop aching from the blow I gave it when I hit that kitchen wall. Frank didn’t drink either, telling me I should have one sober person to talk to.
Kenny was there, home but not really up and around. He and Barbara were going to make another go of it. I was happy to notice that she was being more assertive around him.
Kevin had brought the gang from Calhoun’s, someone else had brought a group from Banyon’s. There were reporters, cops — even Captain Bredloe, who of course had never been on anyone’s payroll. Just another of Elinor’s lies. I saw MacPherson and Global Guru Fred Barnes, and dozens of other people who had come into contact with O’Connor over the years.
Pete had shown up, and Rachel had come with him. They sparred with each other verbally. Pete had more than met his match with her. She hadn’t moved from Phoenix, but something told me one of them was going to relocate before long.
Guy and Lydia were in the throes of new love, which can be boring to observe if you’re not one of the parties involved. I was happy for them all the same.
Aunt Mary had located an Irish band, complete with fiddle, guitar, bodhran, pipes, harp, tin whistle, and voices that lovingly sang the songs of Eire. They did a moving version of an old favorite of O’Connor’s, “Bonnie Light Horseman.” I felt the tears well up for the umpteenth time as it was played. I looked over to see John Walters himself getting misty-eyed.
After a great many pints had been downed and songs had been sung, Frank took me out to his car, another used Volvo he had picked up while I was in the hospital.
As he drove along, I realized that he wasn’t taking me to Lydia’s.
He brought the car to a halt in his driveway. He got out and opened the door for me. We walked inside, and he closed the door behind us.
He took me in his arms and gave me a long, slow, burning kiss. I kissed back for all I was worth. “Stay with me,” he said softly.
I did. And later, as we lay holding one another in bed, warmed by love and ready at last to fall asleep, I heard him softly sing, “Goodnight, Irene.”
Author’s Note
Naturally occurring high levels of fluoride can be found in the ground water of a number of areas of the United States, including some places in Arizona. However, the Arizona town used as one of the settings for this story was chosen because of its proximity to both the California border and Phoenix, not because of its water. I never came across the “five old crabs” when I visited there.
Acknowledgments
Deep appreciation is given to the many people who helped me with the research for this book, especially Debbie Arrington, of the
I am especially grateful to my father, John Fischer, who told me a story that led to writing this one, and to my husband, Timothy Burke, who encouraged me to write, shared the computer, read the drafts again and again and was supportive in a number of other ways.
While I acknowledge the help I’ve received from these and many other people, the errors are my own.
Books by Jan Burke
