The Parting Glass. Emilie Richards
realized he must have been knocked off his feet by the explosion and catapulted to this place. “I should be…”
“Dead,” Jon supplied. “For sure. I don’t know why you aren’t. It’s nothing short of a miracle. Can you move your arms and legs?”
Niccolo tried. He felt bruised all over, but nothing seemed to be broken. “Josh?”
“Down below. You should have waited to find out.”
“Time wasn’t a friend.”
“You said you were going up to the road,” Megan said. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t want you to worry….”
“You two settle that later. Right now, I think we need to get you out of here,” Jon said. “The fire department’s on its way. They’ll address the leak, wherever it is, but we don’t want another explosion while we’re in here.”
“Fire…” Inevitably, it followed explosions.
“There’s not much to ignite down here. We can assume the furnace room will be a total loss.”
Niccolo struggled to sit up. At the second try, and with Jon and Megan’s help, he managed. The world spun, but when he opened his eyes again, the Virgin still stared down at him.
“Tell me I’m not imagining her,” he said.
“Nick, you’re not imagining me,” Megan said.
“You’re real. I know. Her.” Niccolo shined his light on the wall again.
Jon and Megan turned to see what he was talking about. Niccolo watched Megan’s face. He watched his bride’s eyes widen. She stared at the wall, then at him. And then Megan, whose relationship with the Church was suspect at best, made the sign of the cross.
chapter 6
Cleveland’s Hopkins airport was open for business, and planes were still flying. That seemed incongruous to Peggy, who only the day before had wondered if she or Cleveland would survive the tornado’s devastation. Now, she stared at the ceiling in Niccolo and Megan’s guest bedroom and wondered how she would feel tomorrow, when she woke up in another strange bed. This time in Ireland.
A faint rapping launched her to her feet. She opened the door a crack to see her sister’s serious face.
“Phil tracked you down,” Megan said softly, so not to wake Kieran. “Nice of him.”
Peggy wasn’t surprised at her sister’s tone. Megan did not like Kieran’s father, nor, for that matter, did Casey. “At least he’s calling, Megan. I should have called him myself last night. There was just so much going on.”
“I suppose even Phil finds it hard to ignore the fact that the saloon was struck by a tornado. We’re the toast of the town. We made statewide news.”
“You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon.” Peggy looked around for something to pull over her T-shirt so that she could take Phil’s call.
“We’ll go after I get the estimates for renovations. I’ll have plenty of time to relax. I won’t be working for months.” Megan shook her head as if she was still adjusting to that thought. “Let me get you a robe. There’s nobody in the kitchen. You can talk to Phil there.”
Peggy checked Kieran, who was sleeping soundly, his tiny body curled in a ball. She wanted him to sleep, since their flight to Ireland was going to be trial enough. When Megan returned, she wrapped the flannel bathrobe around her and secured it; then, with a nod to her sister, she went down to the kitchen and picked up the receiver.
“Phil?”
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to speak to me.”
She found a chair and tried to make herself comfortable. “Things are in chaos here, but we’re all right. I’m sorry you had to hear about it from somebody else.”
“The Columbus Dispatch had a front page article. Kieran’s okay?”
“Fine. We’re all lucky. Just cuts and bruises and one mild concussion. It was one of those freaky things. Lookout Avenue caught the tail of a twister. There were trees down all over the West Side, but it could have been so much worse.”
“The paper says the saloon sustained the worst damage on the street?”
“Let’s just say we won’t be serving Guinness for a while. Luckily it’s not a total loss. And since she has to close and renovate anyway, Megan’s swearing she’ll improve the place while she’s at it.”
“Megan said you’re still planning to leave today.”
“I am.” Peggy considered her next words but decided to go ahead. “I wish you could have come to say goodbye this week, Phil. Kieran will be a whole year older by the time we get back.”
“Tanya’s been sick. I was afraid to leave her.”
Tanya was Phil’s wife. They had married six months ago, and Tanya had wasted no time getting pregnant. Peggy wondered if Kieran was the reason for her haste—and continuing morning sickness. Tanya was young and insecure. Peggy had tried to find ways to assure her that Kieran was no threat to her marriage, but the message had never been received.
“I’m sending an extra check to Ireland,” Phil said, when Peggy didn’t respond. “A good-size one. I know you’ll need some help getting settled.”
Phil was as generous as he could be with child support, and that was one area where Peggy couldn’t fault him. He had little interest in Kieran, but he did take his financial responsibilities seriously. He was a fledgling architect with years of school loans to pay off, but he shared what he could.
“I appreciate it,” she said. “I’m going to buy supplies for Kieran’s classroom once I get there. Whatever you send will go toward that.”
“How is he?”
Uncharitable responses rose to her tongue, but she overcame them. “He’s the same, Phil.”
“Is he talking yet?”
“He can say hi. But he’ll be talking up a storm by the time I bring him home.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t…you know.”
She didn’t know. Couldn’t visit? Couldn’t love his beautiful, distant son? Couldn’t promise that he ever would?
“I hope you’ll write him,” she said. “I’ll read him your letters, and I’ll put your photograph in his room.”
“Sure. That’s a good idea. Please do that.”
“Goodbye, Phil. Give Tanya my best wishes and tell her I hope she feels better soon.” She hung up, suspecting that Tanya would feel better the moment Peggy and Kieran’s plane took off for Shannon Airport.
“I’m making coffee.” Megan stumbled into the room. “One cup or two?”
“I’ll take a pot.” Peggy watched her sister wander the room trying to find her wits and the coffee filters at the same time. Megan was usually a morning person, but she’d used up a year’s worth of energy yesterday, and it showed.
“Nick’s still doing okay?” Peggy asked.
“His skull must be made of titanium. I woke him up all through the night like the E. R. doc told me to, until he said if I woke him up one more time he’d start divorce proceedings.”
“A little edgy, huh?”
“He claims he doesn’t even have a headache.”
“It’s really something of a miracle, huh?”
“Peggy…” Megan filled the glass pot with water. She turned off the tap and faced her sister. “I’ve got to tell you something. But only if