Sin Worth the Penance

by M. J. Schiller

  “Huh,” I said with a smile, moving to collect their glasses.

  “Good riddance,” came a voice so close it made me jump. I turned to find Tag behind me. He studied me. “Oh, did ya think you chased them off? How cute.” He chuckled.

  I screwed up my face. “Really? Ya couldn’t let me have my little fantasy, Tag?”

  He laughed harder and retreated to his kitchen.

  Paddy locked up not long after that, and I swept the floor from the rear to the front. Something caught my attention. Out the front window, I got a glimpse of the American we threw out. I wouldn’t have seen him at all had he not lit up a smoke, as he was deep in the shadow of the post office across the street. Was he waiting to jump me when I came out, angry that I made him leave? He surely wasn’t there to attack Tag. Not unless he had a death wish.

  Bridey came out from the kitchen, clutching her purse and wrap. She smiled. “On my way to my gaff, Killian. Sorry about the whole getting ya wet thing,” she added with a smirk, walking toward me. She stopped close enough for me to smell that alluring fragrance she wore that I remembered from the press.

  I leaned on my broom. “Nah, you’re not.”

  She grinned. “You’re right. I’m not.” She glanced around. “Flynn didn’t show, did he?”

  My stomach tightened at his name. “No. Nary a sign of him.”

  “Hmm…odd. He usually comes to walk me. Oh, well. Will ya lock up after me?”

  “You’re not intending to walk home alone, are ya?” I asked in alarm, now realizing the fella outside might be lurking about waiting to catch her by herself.

  She tilted her head. “Aye. I do it often. As ya saw earlier, I can take care of myself.”

  “No,” I said abruptly. I noted a flare of anger in her green eyes. “I mean, sure ya can take care of yourself, for the most part, but I’d still feel better if you’d let me walk ya.” Before she could protest further, I cut her off. “Let me go get someone to lock the door.” I hurried away and found Paddy.

  When we came out, I blinked at the sight of her, standing there in a beige cape. She was the one walking below me that afternoon on the shore. So I’d had more than one chance encounter with her. As we drew near, she repeated, “Honestly, Killian, I can go by myself.”

  “Nonsense,” Paddy said with finality. “If that derelict son of mine hasn’t shown up to walk ya, Killian will in his stead.”

  She glanced at me. “I hate to put ya out.”

  I’d snagged my sweater off its peg and pulled it on. “No bother. I often go out and stretch my legs at this time anyway,” I lied.

  Paddy held the door open.

  “All right. If you’re certain?”

  “I’m certain.”

  She gave the old man a peck on the cheek. “Night, Paddy.”

  He looked down at her with fondness. “Good night, honey.” It was the softest I’d seen him act, outside of talking to Aunt Deirdre.

  Stepping out, I casually scanned the shadows across the street.

  Paddy tapped my shoulder. “Here. Take my key so you can let yourself in.”

  “I’m grateful to ya.”

  “No bother. See ya before long, then.”

  I put my hand on the small of Bridey’s back as we walked. “So, whereabouts do ya live?”

  “Oh, beyont that hill there, to the left.” After a moment, she peered at me from underneath her lashes. “I truly appreciate this, Killian.” She lifted her head. “It’s not far.”

  “No bother.” It was quiet on the street. After a bit, I relaxed, not hearing any footsteps behind us or seeing anything untoward. “So….” I searched for a conversation starter. “Ya know, I’m surprised I didn’t make your acquaintance before this.”

  “I am, too. I just came back from being out with a crocked ankle earlier this week, but still…. We must have worked different shifts.”

  “Aye.” We reached a corner, and I helped her off the curb. “How’d ya hurt your ankle?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Oh. Dense, so it was. Twisted it in the sand walking the strand below.”

  I nodded and looked up the street, debating on whether to say something about seeing her earlier. “I…noticed ya there this afternoon. I was on my break.”

  “Oh.” She seemed a tad disconcerted. “Did ya, now?” She took her turn glancing ahead. “I…uh…sometimes walk there. It’s where I feel closest to Tommy.”

  “Tommy?”

  Her voice dropped. “I was married before to Tommy Flatery. Did ya know him?”

  “Can’t say that I did.”

  “Oh.” A funny smile crossed her face. “You’d’ve liked him. He was wonderful.” She shrugged. “At least I thought so.”

  I considered this. “Was he a sailor?” That would explain why she felt close to him along the shore.

  She didn’t answer at first. “Nah.”

  I turned to study her, but I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to pry.

  “No one told ya?”

  I shook my head, unsure of what she was talking about.

  She looked at our path again, then off to the side, blinking rapidly. “He—” She had to stop. “He was murdered. The bastard dumped Tom’s body in the sea. Flynn saw the whole thing.”

  We walked on in silence apace. “I’m sorry, Bridey. That must have been devastating.” I couldn’t imagine.

  She nodded, dropping her chin. “That’s how Flynn and I became close. Everyone was afraid to talk to me after, and…it was fierce lonely.”

  Being a widower, I understood. Folks are afraid to say the wrong thing, so they don’t say anything at all. Fortunately, I had wonderful friends who’d helped me through it. It made me miss them. “Do ya have relations hereabout?” Crossing a street, we caught the breeze out of the protection of the building. It was chilly. I stuffed my hands in my pockets.

  She took a while to answer. “Not really. It’s just me.”

  “Oh.” It made me sad. “Going through something like that without the support of family would be plain awful.”

  “Aye. But…I know ya lost someone, too. Back in the States.”

  “Aye.” We shuffled along. “But I had my Uncle Seamus. And my group of friends was close-knit.”

  “Ya must miss them something terrible.”

  I looked at her. “I do.”

  She took my hand. “If there’s ever anything Flynn and I can do….”

  I covered hers with mine. “Thanks a million. I appreciate that.”

  She lifted her gaze. “Well, it’s that one there.” A neat, but tiny house stood at the end of a short lane. She smiled. “Ya saw me safely to my gaff now, so ya hurry off and get to bed yourself.” She gave me a squeeze then took a few steps toward her place. “Good night,” she murmured.

  I watched her.

  Halfway to her door, she twisted around, and seeing me still in the same spot, motioned toward the pub. “Go on. Be off with ya.”

  I hunched my shoulders as the wind had grown fierce. I nodded toward her place. “I’ll see ya in first.”

  She exhaled, then hurried the rest of the way, unlocked the door, and waved.

  I spun and headed slowly back, thinking about our exchange. As I neared the pub, a squeak of a door startled me and I turned to scan the alleyway. A single, naked bulb hung above a door. A man tripped out, still holding a woman’s hand. They parted, and the woman clutched a silk robe to her chest. He put his arm through the sleeves of his coat. The murmur of their voices carried to me, and I was about to move on, when something seemed familiar to me about the man. The shape? The way he moved? What was it about him, and who was it? He leaned in to exchange a passionate kiss with the woman, then spun and was fully illuminated by the light above the door. We both froze.

  “Is something wrong?” the woman asked slowly.

  Flynn’s face was tight for an instant, then he relaxed. “Killian. Ya ‘bout put my heart in me crossways. Kitty, this is my cousin, Killian.”

  I was forced to step up and
shake her hand.

  “Killian, Kitty Kennedy.”

  “Oh.” She gathered her robe even closer. “Nice to meet ya.”

  I nodded, but my throat was too tight to speak, and I found myself at a loss for words, besides.

  She glanced from me to Flynn. “Umm…well…I don’t mean to be rude, but being as I’m not properly dressed and it’s a touch cold, I’ll say goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, my Kitty-cat.” Flynn had the nerve to gather her into another kiss, and I turned and walked away. “Killian, hold up.”

  I stopped, but I was boiling. I heard a wee slap, then a squeal and a giggle.

  “Get in there,” Flynn growled playfully.

  “All right. All right. Japers,” the girl responded. The door shut.

  Flynn shuffled up behind me. “So…. What are ya doing about?”

  “Well,” I said distinctly, “for one, I was walking your girlfriend home.”

  He brought out his phone, presumably to check the time. “Oh. Did I miss her? Shite. Sorry about that.”

  The way he was acting like nothing was wrong with me catching him practically at it with another woman on her doorstep astounded and antagonized me. I arched my brows. “It’s not me ya should be apologizing to.”

  “What? To Bridey? She won’t be upset.”

  The boy was either thick as two planks or a head melter. Or maybe both. “Does Bridey know about her?”

  “Who? Kitty? Nah. Bridey’d be crushed.” He walked toward the pub, and I with him. “She’s all about love and loyalty, and all that other bollocks.”

  I stopped again. “Ya don’t think she’s deserving of the truth?”

  “What the hell are ya getting at? Aye, she’s deserving of the truth, all right. But I sure the hell won’t be giving it to her.”

  “Ya can’t just…use these two women. Lie to ’em and sneak around behind Bridey’s back.”

  “Why the hell not?” He studied me. “Is this because ya have the glad eye for Bridey?”

  I blinked.

  “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been eye-fucking her.”

  That was it. I grabbed the sides of his jacket and flung him against the general store. “Shut your damn trap! I won’t be taking any cheek off ya, and I won’t hear ya disrespecting Bridey in that way either.”

  He continued to peer at me, his jaw jutting out. “Ya already been up on her?”

  I was shaking with anger. “Are ya a fool or do ya want me to brain ya, or something?” I jerked him toward me, then slammed him into the building. He was related to me?

  “All right. Take it down a notch, will ya?”

  Half-mad with rage, I didn’t want to do anything I’d be remorseful for. He was Paddy and Deirdre’s son, after all. “Mind me now, ya little tool. Either ya tell Bridey about your strumpet, or I will.” I released him with a shove and thundered off.

  Halfway down the sidewalk I heard, “I don’t know why you’re having such a tizzy.” I halted. My head pounded. I wanted to beat him into a bloody pulp, but I knew that wouldn’t solve anything.

  It would make me feel better, though.

  Then I thought about how seeing the blackguard beat up might upset Bridey, even if he did deserve it. I reined it in and went back to the pub and to bed.

  Chapter 4

  Killian

  I had a restless night of sleep and abandoned my bed before dawn, going out on my cliff to watch the sunrise. Around eight, I decided to go back and try to get a few hours of sleep before my shift started at eleven. I stood and stretched my legs. Sitting so long had made them sore. Remembering seeing Bridey on the shore the day before, I crept closer to the edge to look down. But instead of Bridey, I spied a couple out for an early morning stroll with their chiseler. The parents each held one of the wee one’s hands and were swinging him between them. I couldn’t hear their voices, but imagined him squealing to beat the band. It was a picture I once drew in my imagination, with Jo and I as the parents. After a moment, the very real picture below me faded and I was lost in a memory.

  It was winter, and as Nebraska was wont to do, we were near buried in snow. It was after close. I walked my last employee out, came inside, and began counting the till. My phone lit up with a message. I glanced over. It was Connie, the waitress I’d just accompanied out to her vehicle. She’d started her engine and let it warm while we were brushing it off. Did she run into car trouble? I prayed she didn’t have an accident. I clicked to read the message.

  THOUGHT I SHOULD LET YOU KNOW, THE DOME LIGHT WAS ON IN YOUR CAR. DO YOU WANT ME TO COME BACK IN CASE THE BATTERY’S DEAD?

  I typed my reply.

  WELL AREN’T YOU SWEET FOR ASKING. NAH. I’LL BE FINE. I’LL CALL AN UBER IF IT’S DEAD AND PHONE FOR SERVICE ON THE MORROW. I HAVE AT LEAST ANOTHER HOUR’S WORTH OF WORK AHEAD OF ME YET. YOU GET YOURSELF HOME.

  I sighed, looking out the window at the snow coming down. Shite. Since I hadn’t shaken the chill from escorting Connie out yet, I decided to go now and check my car. That way if I needed to call an Uber, I’d be able to call in advance and not have to wait as long.

  When I got to the car, I could see the problem. My seatbelt had flopped out and caused the door not to shut all the way, which kept the light on since I arrived around four. It was dim, which I didn’t take as a good sign. Getting behind the wheel, I whispered, “Come on, baby. I want to get home.” But when I turned the key in the ignition, all I got was that too-familiar whirr, whirr, whirr that spelled dead battery. “Damn.” I closed my tired eyes.

  Well, there’s nothing for it, so I might as well go in.

  I trudged through the drifts to the door. Once in on the mat with our logo on it, I knocked my boots together to dislodge the snow on them and not track it in, since they’d already cleaned the joint. I considered texting Jo and having her come and fetch me, but it was late, and she’d been so knackered the last several weeks.

  I’d wondered if it was the stress of her job as a principal, and she said, no. Her job was always stressful, it wasn’t that. Then, of course, I wondered if it might be her pitching in at the bar every now and again. Maybe she should not spend so much time at The Pint Well-Taken? She begged me to not make her quit. She said working at the bar was cathartic for her. At the bar, she could be her efficient self, take orders, and serve folk. She could easily see her success as she ticked through each step. At her job as principal, she could be organized and problem solve, but more often than not, the results were intangible. Was what she was doing actually making a difference for her students? I assured her it was. She was the best damned principal in the world. She laughed at that. We were flummoxed about her recent lack of energy and decided she needed to see a doctor. And she had an appointment earlier in the day, I remembered now. I wondered what she’d discovered.

  When I got back to the office, I texted Jo.

  HEY, JOSIE. HOPEFULLY YOU’RE CATCHING SOME Zs BY NOW, BUT IF YOU WAKE AND I’M NOT THERE, DON’T BOTHER YOURSELF ABOUT IT. I MAY BE A TAD LATER THAN USUAL AS THE CAR’S BATTERY IS DEAD AND I’LL NEED TO CALL AN UBER. SLEEP WELL, MY LOVE.

  I then added the appropriate emojis and sent it off. I looked at the cash register drawers in front of me and tried to remember which I’d counted. The job took longer than usual as I was so bushed I forgot where I was and had to start again. A half-hour later, I finally finished and was taking a drawer to the front bar to put it in the register, when pounding on the door ’bout put my heart crossways. I whipped about, but couldn’t make out anything through the dark windows. I cautiously took a step or two forward, then recognized the furry craiter on my doorstep. I rushed to open the door.

  She stomped her boots. “Brr. It’s cold out.” I took the sides of her faux fur-lined hood and drew her into a kiss. Her lips were cold, but receptive. Poor dear was half-frozen, though she was making me melt inside.

  I pulled away. “Why did ya come out, ya silly girl? I could have gotten an Uber.” I slid my arm around her shoulders and ush
ered her farther inside, where it was warmer.

  She shrugged. I had only a few lights on, not wanting to give people the impression we were open, but in the dim light I could still see her beaming out from the deep recesses of that hood, her cheeks rosy. “I was waiting up for you anyway, so I thought I’d come get you.” She held a small box tied with a ribbon.

  “Waiting up? Why ya didn’t need to do that, love. You need your rest.”

  She pushed back her hood, set the box down, and tugged off her mittens, laying them on the bar. “But I wanted to tell you about my trip to the doctor’s.” I helped her out of the sleeves of her coat. “I was in such a hurry, I didn’t even bother to put a bra on. When I got your text, I just wore my sweatshirt and jeans, grabbed my coat, and hurried out the door.”

  I held her by her hips. “So, you’re telling me, you’re without the service of a bra right now?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “That’s right.”

  My hands rose to her waist, underneath her sweatshirt. “Nary a stitch on under here?”

  She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. She drove me mad.

  “Say, we never officially christened this bar….”

  She frowned. “What? Out here where people can see us?”

  I cupped her deadly breasts. “Uh-huh.”

  “The health inspector would have our license.”

  I walked her backward until she was against the bar. “I don’t give a damn.”

  She slid her hands under the material of her shirt, too, and clasped mine, guiding them away. A wave of disappointment hit me, until she said, “No. On your desk.”

  We ran like two impish school children to my office, and I made love to my beautiful wife on top of the day’s receipts. We laughed when we were through, me still on top of her. I gave her one last kiss. “You’re a naughty girl, so ya are.”

  She put a finger on my lips, tracing them, and I caught it in my mouth. “You like me that way.”

  I let her go but grasped her hand and kissed the top of it, wriggling my eyebrows at her. “Aye, I do.”