Hard Irish

by Jennifer Saints

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered today not only to celebrate the gift of life, but to reaffirm our commitment to family. The love a parent has for their child is a deep and abiding one. It is a love that sacrifices and it is a love that never rests in its desire to provide and secure the best possible future. The greatest gift a parent can have is the assurance there are others within the child’s life who will care for the child should they be unable to do so. Today Jesse and Alexi Weldon and Nancy and Jackson Weldon have chosen Jared and James Weldon, brothers and brothers-in-law of whom they have a high regard for, to take a special place in the lives of their children, Jake and Jason. This ceremony marks that faith and commitment.”

  The pastor moved from the shadows and stared him right in the eye. “Jared Weldon.”

  “Yes,” Jared said, his voice worse than a frog croak. A cold sweat started in his gut and spread. He locked his knees to stay upright but could do nothing to stop his head-to-toe quivering.

  “Do you swear before God, this congregation, and your family to take a special lifelong interest in your nephews, Jake and Jason? To be there for them in life and to help guide them morally and ethically as they develop into adults?”

  Jared swallowed the choking lump in his throat, sure he was about to die on the spot. The phenomena of spontaneous combustion suddenly seemed completely plausible. He blinked the blur from his vision and found Alexi and Nan were standing before him. In their arms were his chubby nephews, blue eyes bright and slobbery grins happy. Alexi put Jake in the crook of his left arm and Nan put Jason in the crook of his right arm. They were so small, so innocent, so trusting, and so helpless. The thought of their lives resting in his hands blew his mind. He’d been skating over the surface of life, free as a bird, but in that moment the ice broke and he plunged beneath into the icy water of reality. Terror ripped through.

  He nodded several times but was incapable of saying the “I do” he’d been instructed to respond. After an uncomfortable moment the pastor zeroed in on James.

  “James Weldon. Do you swear before God, this congregation, and your family to take a special lifelong interest in your nephews, Jake and Jason? To be there for them in life and to help guide them morally and ethically as they develop into adults?”

  “I do,” James replied, loud and clear. Instead of coming over and taking Jake and Jason from him as planned, James pitched forward in a dead faint and face-planted the altar.

  From the expression of his family all staring at him, Jared concluded that train wreck was too mild a description for the situation. Nuclear explosion was a more apt description.

  Jared prayed hard, but for some reason God didn’t instantly beam him up to heaven, instead he left him squirming in hell. He didn’t need a “hair of the dog” drink this morning. He needed the whole damn bottle.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Woof!”

  “Slow down, Pebbles. You’re shaking the steps.”

  Her tenuous concentration broken by the fact that two hundred pounds of slobbery St. Bernard and the zaniest woman in the South were about to descend on her, Roxanne “Rocky” McKenna quickly stood and stretched her long legs. She slipped a robe on over her sun-kissed skin and prepared for the onslaught. Used to be drugging sunshine, fresh air, and yoga after her routine morning swim could clear the cloudiest horizons. Not anymore.

  Either life’s troubles or her suppressed hormones reared a disturbing head.

  “Thought I’d find you up here. I brought you Intense Chai this morning. Next best thing to an orgasm to start your day.”

  Rocky laughed as Desmond “Dessie” Langford and her huge pooch breached the privacy of her rooftop garden. Between the riches of Hilton Head, South Carolina and Savannah, Georgia lay a swampy land of everything under the sun from The Golden Bunny burlesque joint to the Lazy Cow Café.

  At fifty-five, Dessie, a Marilyn Monroe look-a-like, was still the queen of the Golden Bunny. Moves Like Jagger had nothing on her. In Dessie’s world, liposuction and silicon fixed what the Good Lord taketh away with age and when the gray hair moved south, she went Brazilian—a waxing luxury that Rocky herself, upon coercion, found she enjoyed.

  Wearing a hard hat on the job all day made her enjoy the sleek, cultured feel of being smooth and sexy all over. Maybe more than she should.

  The best two moves of her life had been her divorce and moving in next door to Dessie and Pebbles. Well, Pebbles was still kind of up in the air. The monster dog was delusional. Thought she was a lap dog and did her best to crawl one paw into any available lap. Rocky did a lot of standing when Pebbles was afoot. Reaching down, she nabbed one of Pebbles balls left from her last visit and tossed it down the stairs. Pebbles took off in a house-shaking rush after the ball that would likely bounce down all three flights and take her a good five minutes to find.

  With Pebbles out of the way, Rocky took the mug of hot tea Dessie held out and inhaled the cinnamon and spice before sipping. “The best.”

  “Nope only second best. Orgasm is the best. So when are you going to ditch your ivory tower and let your hair down, girl. All this Zen meditating in the nude and Fung Shu-”

  “Feng Shui,” Rocky said.

  “Whatever all this is,” Dessie waved at the rooftop garden. “It don’t make up for having a man while you’re young enough to enjoy him. As I see it, you’ve let your ex steal three years of great sex from you. Maybe even more than that since it must not have been all that great with him or you’d be itching for a good fix by now.”

  “It’s not like there hasn’t been anything else going on.”

  “Sorry, luv. I’m not discounting your father’s illness, but you were in this state before his stroke. It’s been a month now and who knows how long it will be before he recovers.”

  If he recovers. Rocky mentally said what she knew Dessie was too kind to say. After skipping a beat Dessie continued. “You need to get out and meet people. You need a man.”

  A large splash from below alerted them both that Pebbles had found the pool and would return soaking wet.

  Rocky rolled her eyes and drank more tea. She wasn’t about to give Dessie an inch to hang her with. Truth was Rocky had more than an itch, she had a fever, but she damn well was not going to give into it, no matter what the temptation. Thus the meditation. Not that it helped a whole lot. The heated thoughts that wiggled their way into her mind kept her in a state of need.

  But hormones had landed her on the wrong side of love more than once and she refused to give into them ever again. Next time she tangled with a man, she’d connect with his mind first and make sure he was Mr. Right before anything else happened between them.

  She arched her eyebrow and turned the tables. Dessie only dished out advice when she had a problem and didn’t know what to do. “So who has your thongs in a wad today?”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “Only to those who love you. Now give it up. What’s ailing you?”

  “The new bouncer at the Golden Bunny. OMG he’s Robert Redford redone and melts me with one look.”

  “So?”

  “So he’s too young. I may purr and scratch, but cougaring ain’t my thing. Trouble is he doesn’t want to take no for an answer. Come save me. You really ought to swing by the club and meet him today. He’s got great sex written from head-to-toe of his hard body.”

  “Not going to work, Dessie. I’m not going to let your Chai Tea seduce me into another man-mistake. I work with hard-bodied men day in and day out and married one, that doesn’t necessarily make a man great. Might even be just the opposite. I have to stop by the office to set up a few things for the new job tomorrow and then I’m going to see Da today anyway.”

  Dessie put her hand to her forehead as if she might faint. “I’ve wasted years of my life. Haven’t you heard a word I’ve been saying, Rocky? There’re men who’ve got brains, brawn, balls and heart, but you aren’t going to find him up here and you aren’t going to find him in the nursing home either. You work too much.
You need to get out and date.”

  “Job pays the bills. Besides, I’m not that bad. I dated Cam Phillips after Newsline did the segment on Building-A-Future.” The free summer work camp she held every year to teach area kids the basics of building and how to use tools had garnered national attention after she’d won a local humanitarian award. The well-known anchor had been interested in her for a time.

  “That’s been over a year ago. He flew in from LA three times over two months. You kept him at arm’s length and as soon as a gossip monger splashed your picture in the paper with his, you sent him packing.”

  “Like Da said from the start, I’m a private person. I wasn’t about to become chum for the sharks.”

  “I think your father didn’t want you leaving the hole he pegged for you to live in and sabotaged that relationship before the first date. I like your dad, but did you ever have a choice about what you wanted in life?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I like being in construction. Building things, improving things, making the world around me a better place.”

  “Just make sure you haven’t locked yourself in a prison. And give your Da a hug for me while you’re there.”

  They both heard Pebbles bounding back up the steps.

  “I will. Thanks for the tea,” Rocky made a quick exit to the metal stairs spiraling into her house and Dessie turned to meet Pebbles who proceeded to shake, rattle, and roll water in every possible direction. Dessie laughed and bent down, hugging Pebbles’ enormous neck—a show of true love if there ever was one. Rocky smiled.

  Her smile widened an hour later as she arrived at McKenna Construction’s main office. Even though the office was closed on the weekends, she thankfully saw Maggie Dupree’s Mini Cooper parked out front. Rocky didn’t have a moment to waste and had had everything possible sitting on go. To win the bid, she’d promised to have the renovations done in an impossibly short time. She’d read a local magazine article on the hotel’s new owner, Tiffany Parker Bentley, and known that hard-driving efficiency would appeal to the Clinton-like feminist. For once, the fact that Rocky was a woman operating in a man’s world had worked in her favor instead of against her. With Maggie’s help this morning, Rocky could quickly send the emails and faxes to put the Drake Hotel job in motion and have more time with her father.

  Maggie started out last summer as a volunteer at Rocky’s Build-A-Future camp then signed on as the McKenna Construction’s receptionist and soon became invaluable, not only helping Alice Owen, their longtime secretary, but also serving as a go-to-woman for jobsite offices and paperwork, saving Rocky lots of time. And when Rocky had to move her father’s things from his apartment after his stroke, both Alice and Maggie had made the task bearable.

  She entered the air conditioned building and for a brief moment her breath caught at the disorder until she realized the books from the shelves and the drawers from the cabinets were in neat stacks and not ransacked as they had been one day last month. The office had a home-like appearance to its furnishings and decor with book shelves and comfortable sitting areas to each room, a central kitchen/break room, and a jungle of plants.

  “Maggie?” Rocky navigated her way through the front office. After a moment she heard a door shut then the click of heels on the hardwood floors.

  “Rocky?” Maggie called out. “Bugger me, you gave me a fright.”

  She appeared in the doorway of Rocky’s office, better known as the Rainbow room because of the fairytale murals of rainbows and a unicorn riding princess Rocky’s mother, Keira, had painted on the walls of the onetime playroom. Rocky had been coming to the office since an infant. The furniture had changed from crib to tea party table to desk, but Rocky had kept the paintings, something she was glad she had done after losing her mother to cancer five years ago.

  Rocky shook her head and smiled. Only the Brits could make bloody, bugger, and bollocks attractive adjectives. “I came in to put the Drake job in motion. This looks like a project.”

  “A bit of belated spring cleaning.” Maggie waved her hands toward the mess and joined Rocky in the reception area. At forty something with strawberry hair that hung somewhere between curly and straight and designer black glasses that somehow missed being stylish, the buxom woman had “hard life” written on her wrinkled brow. She’d lost her mother at an early age, and from occasional comments, Rocky got the idea Maggie’s father had passed her around to distant family members after that, so unlike the stable home Rocky had had.

  “A project I do not envy. Is Alice coming to help?”

  “No need. I can handle the dust mites better than her asthma can.”

  “Good point.” Rocky frowned at the disorder. “I can help after I take care of a few things.”

  “And have you miss time with your Da? Wouldn’t have it. Besides I get more work done by myself. Any change in his condition?”

  “Yes. No. Maybe?” Rocky sighed. “It could be wishful thinking on my part, but it seems to me that there are moments lately where I swear he’s aware and he’s trying to tell me something. His expression becomes intense and I feel as if his hand grips mine. It gives me real hope that damage from the stroke isn’t as severe as they think.”

  “Good to hear. What can I do to help you? I could use a break from cleaning.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Quite.”

  “Okay. You can send faxes while I do the emails.”

  Maggie winced as she looked toward the Rainbow room. “Hope you can get to your computer. Your office is a bloody mess. I’m not only cleaning the shelves but vacuuming under them as well. You won’t believe the cobwebs.”

  “Heavens. I don’t even remember the last time that was done; likely before my mother became ill seven years ago. Cleaning is not my forte, but hand me a hammer and I’ll work all day.” Rocky entered her office and saw that Maggie hadn’t overestimated the situation. Everything had been moved. She navigated around the vacuum cleaner and the stacked file cabinet drawers to get to her desk then moved the furniture polish and cleaning rags to unearth her files for the Drake Hotel job.

  “I suppose that works,” Maggie said, following. “If you give free reign to the cobwebs then you can always use a hammer on the spiders.”

  “Talk about overkill.” Rocky wrinkled her nose. “After that visual, I think I’ll hire a cleaning lady.”

  Maggie laughed. “Or bribe your friends. Let me know if you need help, luv. Meanwhile I’ll take on those faxes. You’re really moving fast on this job. Any special reason?”

  Rocky handed her the list. “I promised I’d have the renovations done in record time. We can’t afford any delays or we’ll be in trouble. Odd thing about reputations, it takes forever to build a good one, but then one mishap and it goes down in a heartbeat.”

  Maggie took the file and then made the climb for the door. “Money’s the same way,” she said before she left. “Forever to get it and then you bloody lose it and nothing goes right.”

  “True,” Rocky said and as she sent out the messages that would put Monday’s agenda in motion, she realized most of life was like that—forever to build then lost in a second. Dreams, love, relationships...health. For a man in his late fifties, her father had been in good shape. He ate right, exercised, and only indulged in a good scotch on special occasions.

  Thanks to Maggie, Rocky made it to the nursing home in good time and settled in to her usual place at his side and told him about Pebbles’s latest exploits, knowing he’d enjoy hearing about them. He believed that the only “real” dogs in the world were the ones that weighed more than fifty pounds. After Pebbles, she turned the conversation to his pride and joy. McKenna Construction.

  “We’re going to stay in the black, Da. We won another bid. This one is for the Drake Hotel job. So you don’t have to worry. It’s all going to be all right.” Swallowing the lump of emotion knotting her throat, she forced a smile as she searched his watery blue gaze. At a hefty six-five, she never thought Rory McKenna could ever look s
mall and vulnerable, but he did.

  The stroke had taken him from man to invalid in minutes, leaving a hole in her universe as big as the Milky Way. She tucked the blanket higher on his burly chest and clasped his hand in hers. Persistent Vegetative State...Locked in Syndrome...the doctors were still determining his condition. From all that she’d read about brain stem strokes, the prognosis of a patient could be difficult to predict. And while recovery miracles did happen, they weren’t likely and they weren’t often.

  She wished she could do more. More than just pray. More than just keep McKenna Construction going. She wished she could go back and...what? Take back their last argument so she might have been with him as usual the night he had his stroke?

  They’d fought over whether or not to have a more in-depth documentary done of her Building-A-Future summer camp and instead of going to his place for dinner, she’d come home to stew. Maybe Dessie was right. Maybe her father had been afraid of her leaving. He’d been against her doing the news show with Cameron last year, too.

  She leaned in close, searching. His expression seemed more intense again, but he wasn’t looking at her. He stared straight ahead. “You know you’ll never lose me, Da. I’m not going anywhere. I love what I am doing. I love running the company. Was that what you were worried about?”

  His breathing increased, as if he were suddenly running a race. Rocky’s heart squeezed with concern. “Da? What’s wrong?” She felt his pulse. It was steady but his skin seemed hotter than usual. He coughed.

  She was in the middle of praying he wasn’t coming down with pneumonia or something when she heard the words. “Keira. Unforgivable. Stop. Pray.”

  It took a moment for her to realize her father had spoken. At least she thought he had. As she studied him, looking for evidence, she began to think she’d imagined it. His gaze had become unfocussed again and his expression slack. His breathing had slowed to normal.