to the fold.”
That brought a cheer, but for a free drink, most of them would have cheered anything short of the words “last call.” One of the reporters bent close to Kevin and whispered something to him. Kevin turned to us in surprise. “What’s this? Engaged?”
“It’s true,” I said.
“And how many times did you have to beg him on bended knee before he said ‘yes’?”
I laughed and answered, “Believe it or not, he asked me.”
“Well, now, listen up!” he called in his carrying voice, then stepped up on a chair, so that he towered above the crowded bar. As the buyer of the aforesaid round, he had their grateful attention. The bar was so quiet, you could actually hear what was playing on the jukebox. Kevin glanced at Liam, who promptly unplugged it.
“There’s a nasty kind of rumor going around,” Kevin began, then paused, turning to Frank.
“Tell us!” A cooperative crowd. They’d heard him before. Frank looked a little uneasy.
Kevin looked back to the crowd. “It’s said that the men in the Las Piernas Police Department have lost their courage!”
“No!” This chorus from the cop contingent, all of them grinning as they looked at Frank.
“‘Courage among our policemen?’ they say, ‘Why, it’s easier to find a politician who wants to make a good Act of Contrition.’”
“No!” the chorus supplied.
“Yes, that’s what’s being said. I’m told the police so lack courage, they’ve become as useless as a snake’s glovemaker!”
“No!” Again the chorus, but through laughter.
“Nearly as useless as reporters,” Kevin said, causing an outbreak of shouts and laughter.
“Impossible,” more than one voice called.
“I’m here to tell you that the rumor is
Eager silence.
“He’s asked Irene Kelly to marry him!”
There was a great deal of shouting and cheering at that point.
“Fools rush in!” remarked one of my coworkers.
A series of more picturesque comments followed.
Kevin motioned the crowd to silence by simply lifting his pint of stout.
“Here’s to Frank Harriman, who’s had the courage to take our treasure from us! May he and Irene Kelly share a long and happy life together!”
Finally able to drink, the crowd was especially lively in joining this part of the toast.
After accepting the congratulations of a number of the patrons, we settled down into a couple of chairs at Kevin’s table. It felt so comfortable, this pub and all its memories. It was where O’Connor had most often held court. On Friday and Saturday nights, when they had live music, he would sit and watch the dancers. I thought of nights when Kevin, O’Connor, and I would argue and laugh and generally carry on until closing. Somehow all those memories brought back an old sense of myself. An Irene who was less afraid. I was free of more than a fiberglass cast.
I ordered a Tom and Jerry to warm my bones. As the waiter brought it, I looked up to see Frank quietly regarding me. We smiled and lifted our glasses to one another.
“So when will this wedding take place?” Kevin asked, watching us.
“She refuses to set a date,” Frank told him.
“What? Irene! The man has proposed. What more do you need?”
I just shook my head.
“What makes you hesitate?” he persisted.
“I just need time to heal, Kevin.”
Frank reached over and took my hand. “She can take as long as she likes, Kevin. She said ‘yes’ and she knows she’s not getting out of it.”
Kevin gentled his tone, needing no further explanation of my meaning. “Well, Irene, here’s to healing quickly. Don’t begrudge your company to those of us who would salve your wounds.”
“I don’t. Being here, I feel better already.”
We talked for a long time, reminiscing about Kevin’s days with the paper, where he worked before starting his PR firm. Taking an off chance, I asked, “Kevin, can you remember any work I did for you that might tie into the college or the zoo or Greek mythology?”
“You’re speaking of the case of the history professor?”
“Yes.”
