Mission accomplished.
Seamus reappeared, dabbing a sweaty brow with a hand towel. “Sorry, problem with the fridge. Had to fix it.”
“No problem,” said Snookie. Another girl moved to head upstairs and Snookie grabbed Seamus’s shoulder to twist him and keep him from seeing.
“I’ll break,” she said.
“That’s fair.” He racked again and she lined up and struck.
The seven sank and she moved in to continue, barely looking at the table.
“My father was in the military,” she said, sinking the nine and moving to the opposite side of the table. “I spent a lot of time on base.” She sank the three. “You know what they have a lot of on military bases?”
Seamus rolled his eyes and muttered.
“Hustlers.”
Snookie lined up the five. It fell.
“A young girl can make a lot of money off drunken soldiers. And the best part was we moved all the time.”
“Fresh blood,” said Seamus.
Snookie turned her head to him, shooting the eight blind. It fell into the side pocket.
“Fresh blood,” she echoed.
Seamus smiled. “I knew it.”
She pinched her fingers together. “Just a little.”
Seamus moved toward her and put his hands on her hips. “I think I love you. Any chance you’ll be staying in town a while?”
She shrugged. “I could maybe be coerced—”
The bar erupted with the sound of screaming. The crowd in the center scattered as water poured from the ceiling.
“Sweet Mary!” Seamus bolted for the stairs and headed up, taking two steps at a time.
Snookie followed on his heels.
Upstairs, a group of young men and women had gathered, dancing to music blaring from someone’s cell phone.
“What in the name of all that’s holy is going on here?” roared Seamus.
Snookie glanced into the bathroom. Water and wet paper covered the floor, the toilet gurgling a river that rolled into the main room like a wild rapids ride.
Seamus strode through the puddle to lean behind the toilet and turn off the water.
The crowd bolted in the other direction and headed down the stairs.
“Get out of here,” Seamus barked. He spotted Snookie, and shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
A noise came from a closed door to the right of the bathroom and Seamus frowned. He moved to the door and flung it open.
A young couple lying in the bed looked up, eyes wide.
“In me bed? Get out!”
The couple grabbed the clothes they’d removed and hustled back down to the bar.
Seamus rubbed his hand across his hair. “This is what happens when I let myself get distracted.” He grinned at her. “Though I wouldn’t trade your distraction for the world.”
Snookie motioned to the mess. “What are you going to do? You can’t stay here.”
He sighed. “I have another place. Well, it’s my nephew’s, but I have a room there.”
Snookie tried not to smile.
Score.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
She shrugged, trying to look forlorn. “Oh, I’ll get a hotel room.”
“What? I won’t hear of it. Why don’t you come stay with us?”
She put her hand on her chest. “Oh, I couldn’t.”
“It’s no trouble at all. Declan would love it. You can have my bed. I’ll take the sofa.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing at all. And we’ll have the whole hurricane to get to know each other. Give me a chance to clean up a little here and we’ll head over.”
Snookie smiled.
“Okay. If you insist.”
Chapter Thirty
“Do we have to?”
Bob stared out the car window at the large nursing home, his forehead resting on the glass.
Mariska adopted her most officious tone. The one she hoped conveyed she wouldn’t be budged from her plans. Bob should recognize it by now.
“They need the help and it’s safer for us, too.”
She retrieved their overnight bag from the trunk, the wind blowing her curls straight on her head. They’d spent the last day—time they weren’t dealing with Charlotte’s fire—watching the weather. The hurricane had increased to a category two. When the nursing center where Mariska volunteered called and offered them a place to spend the night in exchange for help with the residents, she’d hopped on the opportunity. She loved her home, but the roof needed work and it would be safer to spend the night in a large concrete block nursing home.
She handed Bob their bag to carry and helped Miss Izzy from the back seat, the dog excited by a car ride to a new place with new smells.
Mariska stared in dismay at the furry mat covering the back seat. Enough Izzy hair had gathered to build a second dog.
Maybe I should leave the back doors open during the storm and let the hurricane clean it out.
“Why do we have to come here?” asked Bob.
Mariska shut the door and walked as fast as she could toward the building, answering over her shoulder as she went. “It’s safer. Charlotte is safe at Declan’s and Darla has Frank.”
“What do you mean Darla has Frank?”
She heard the slap of Bob’s size-fourteen sneakers closing in behind her. He wasn’t a tall man, but he had feet like a platypus.
“You have me. What am I? Chopped liver?”
“This building is safer than—” They entered the nursing home and all eyes turned toward them. She’d been screaming to be heard over the wind, and in the quiet of the lobby, she sounded like a banshee.
“Sorry.” Mariska smiled at the woman behind the desk. “Mariska and Bob Garitz, reporting for duty.”
“Oh great.” The woman reached over the desk to greet her, appearing business-like but not unfriendly in her plum suit and
