Shamrocks and Secrets

by Cayce Poponea

  When I was six, our mom had disappeared. I could remember asking my dad when she was coming back and he would always say she was off on a vacation. I remember that we packed up the car one day and Dad drove us to Chicago. Now, all these years later, I still didn’t know where she was and Dad wouldn’t talk about her so we avoided the subject of her entirely.

  Abigail was sleeping soundly and I knew she wouldn't wake if I ran the water. So that was just what I did. As I lay in the tub surrounded by bubbles and silence, I replayed the events of the night in my head. I had been told in the past that I had a nice set of legs. I never agreed, but then again, a lot of women don't like their bodies. Somehow it felt almost offensive to have Patrick Malloy make reference to them. It didn't really feel like a compliment, more of him naming a place he wanted to be—between my legs. I decided that it didn't matter. I'd lived in Chicago all this time and this was the first time I had ever encountered him. What did matter was getting in touch with him again. I needed to let him know what a piece of trash he had in his employ. I had to find out what kind of business he ran and then let the courts know. Abigail was growing everyday and her needs were becoming more and more expensive. It was time Kevin was forced to pay. The hot water and fragrant bubbles had done their magic. I felt relaxed when I finally crawled into my bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  The downside of living with a four year old was that they tended to have schedules. Abigail was no exception. When she was awake, she expected everyone in the house to be as well. She didn't care that you had only gotten three hours of sleep.

  Abigail woke me by bouncing energetically on my bed. “AUNTIE CHRIS, TIME TO GET UP!" she shouted as she continued to jump.

  “Oh God, who gave you sugar so early?" I asked to no one in particular

  “Auntie Christi, Mommy's making pancakes. Hurry up, I'm hungry!"

  She finally quit jumping as she mercilessly removed the covers from my bed. It was a damn good thing she was cute. I groaned as I heaved my tired body over the edge of the bed. My feet were sore and the chill of the hardwood floor felt so good.

  As I made my way into the kitchen, I smelled the one thing that would make my life better, coffee.

  I watched as Shannon was flipping pancakes and humming, swaying her hips to the song that must have been playing inside her head. This was a bad sign. Shannon was notorious for falling in love fast and thinking later. This wouldn't be the first time I would have to rein her in. I took my seat at the bar and Abigail quickly followed.

  "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my sister?"

  Shannon turned around as she placed a plate full of pancakes on the counter. The smile on her face was huge and I could only guess what, or rather who, had put it there.

  "Can't I just be in a good mood?” She questioned with a smirk on her face.

  "Just please tell me you slept in your own bed last night?” My face serious.

  "Mommy, can I have pink juice?” Abigail interjected as she headed toward the refrigerator.

  I wasn't going to let Abigail's question derail my need for answers. Shannon had been hurt time and time again. I refused to let that happen this time. I would kill Dillion if he tried to hurt my sister.

  "No, Baby, you can have milk."

  "Can I have pink milk?" her big blue eyes sparking at her Mother

  "Good try, but no, you can have white milk." Shannon said with a chuckle. Shannon placed the cup of milk in front of Abigail. Her attention again focused on me.

  "Yes, Christi, I slept in my own bed...alone."

  I knew I had to be careful with Abigail in the room. I wasn't always able to keep my emotions in check when it came to my family.

  "I like him, Christi. I like him a lot. I want to get to know him better and see where this goes. He listens to me, he actually looks me in the eyes, and is interested in what I have to say."

  I completely understood what she was saying. All too often men were too busy staring at my chest, rather than paying attention to the words I spoke. I still wanted her to be careful, though.

  "Well, since you went to all the trouble of trying to bribe me with carbs, what do you want from me?"

  Shannon hated to cook. Even though she was really good at it, she only did it when she wanted something.

  "Wow...nothing gets by you, Watson."

  "Pfft, please, I am so Sherlock.” I countered.

  "Whatever, I know it's your day off, but I have a date and I need a sitter."

  "I will, on one condition.” I stipulated, completely serious

  Shannon rolled her eyes and turned around to get more coffee.

  "Ok, I'll bite, what's your condition?” she asked.

  " Don't shave your legs before your date.” I responded matter of factly.

  "Um...okay...but why?” her tone clearly curious

  "Because I heard somewhere that if you have stubbly legs, you're less inclined to...have relations.” I whispered, looking quickly to Abigail.

  Abigail was beyond excited to be spending the night having a sleepover with Auntie Christi. I promised her we would order pizza, watch all her favorite movies, and stay up late. She didn't really understand why she couldn't go with her mommy on her date. I told her they would be doing boring things and that we would have so much more fun.

  I told Shannon it might be better if I had Abigail in the bedroom when Dillion came to pick her up. I didn't want her to be confused if things didn't work out. Shannon agreed and I distracted my niece with an impromptu dance-off. We stood in her bedroom with my iPod and danced around the room. When I was certain Shannon had left, I took Abigail out into the living room and was about to order pizza when my dad called wanting to know what we had planned for dinner. He insisted he take us out for pizza when I told him of our plans.

  Dad took us to a little mom and pop place called Gino's. They made the best Chicago-style deep dish pizza on the planet. Once we devoured our food, Abigail asked if she could go play the video games. Since we both had a clear view of the machines, dad gave her money and told her to go get quarters from the cashier. With Abigail safely occupied, I decided to pump my dad for information.

  "So, Dad, you seem to know everyone in this town, what's the story on Dillion Parker?"

  My dad never took his eyes off Abigail as he spoke.

  "Chris, you can trust Dillion with Shannon. He's a good guy, he'll treat her right."

  This surprised and yet angered me at the same time. Dad knew all of the pieces of shit that Shannon had dated, yet he knew of a decent guy and he never brought him around.

  "If you knew he would be good for her, why haven't you introduced them before?"

  My dad actually chuckled at this one. "Fathers don't tend to get involved in their daughter's love lives.”

  He had a point I guess. I decided to go for broke.

  "I had a run in with Kevin last night at the wedding. Shannon didn't see him. I found out where he's working and I got his boss's name."

  "Did you tell your sister?”

  "No, she was too damn happy this morning. I didn't have the heart to mess that up." I admitted.

  "I can't blame you there, Sweetheart. So, who's the fucker working for?"

  I took a drink of my Coke. I wanted to know as much as I could about Patrick Malloy. My dad had a lot of contacts and if anyone had information on him, I knew my dad would have it.

  "A man by the name of Patrick Malloy, ever heard of him?"

  My dad took several minutes before he spoke. He wasn't a man of many words, but when he did speak, he meant every word he said.

  "Did you speak with him about Kevin?"

  "Not really, he noticed Kevin and I were fussing and he asked if there was a problem, then he called Kevin, Douce.” The last word coming out as if a question.

  My dad pulled out his phone, checking it quickly and then pocketing it.

  "Tell me something," my dad shifted his body closer to mine, "did you tell Patrick how you and Kevin knew each other?"
/>   "Actually, Kevin told him that I was the sister of an old friend.”

  I watched as Abigail jumped up and down at whatever was happening on the video screen. We both chuckled as she yelled out in excitement.

  "Did the subject of Abigail come up?"

  I noticed my dad start looking around; he was starting to creep me out.

  "No, he got really nervous and then tried to play it off like we were just talking. Patrick told him he would see him later then left with his men."

  "Did Douce stick around?"

  "No, as soon as Patrick left, he shot out of there. I talked to Brandon, the bartender who seemed to know Patrick, and I asked him what the deal was."

  "Brandon was working your party?"

  "Yes, Kevin got really nervous when Brandon came over."

  "I'll bet he did more than get nervous."

  Now I was really curious. Who the hell was this guy?

  My dad was again silent. I let him be; knowing if I pushed, he would just clam up and I would never get any more answers.

  "Christi, what I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this table, you got me?" I nodded my head and leaned in closer to my dad. “Not even your sister, do you understand?” Again I nodded.

  "I've known the Malloy family for a very long time. I've been good friends with Thomas Malloy since we were boys."

  I listened patiently as dad continued his story. His far off gaze told me he was telling it just as he lived it.

  "When you were a little girl and your Mother and I started having problems, she threatened to take you girls and run. I was just a street cop in a small town and didn't have two nickels to rub together. Thomas had called me out of the blue and I told him what was going on. He hired a top-notch attorney that dug up information on your Mother. She signed the divorce papers and disappeared into the night. Thomas got me the job here and told me he would call on me in the future for a favor. He told me that family was the most important thing in this world and I agreed with him. Patrick took over the family business from his dad, Thomas, about six years ago."

  He looked at me again, a serious look on his face.

  "I'm not surprised that Douce didn't want Malloy to know about Abigail. I can guarantee you that that was why he left."

  Abigail began to laugh at a little boy who was playing beside her, apparently he lost his game and was throwing a fit. She had such an infectious laugh that you just couldn't help but join her.

  "Did Patrick say anything else to you?"

  I thought for a minute before I answered him. "He called me Legs."

  My dad chuckled and then turned to me and looked me directly in the eyes. "Keep that one filed away, you may have to use it someday."

  Abigail came back to the table after she had used up all of her money, and I noticed it was getting late, so my dad went and settled the bill, while I waited with Abigail. We said goodnight to the owners and headed out to the parking lot. I had just finished getting Abigail fastened into her booster seat when I heard laughter coming from across the parking lot. I looked over and noticed that none other than Patrick Malloy was getting out of a black Mercedes. He had a voluptuous blonde at his side and she was giggling at every word he spoke. He noticed my dad before me and said something to the blonde and the guys that surrounded him. He made his way across the lot in my dad's direction.

  "Sir, how are you?" As he stood in front of my dad, the two men embraced in a manly, back-slapping hug.

  "I can't complain, young man. How's your father?"

  "Da is good. I'll tell him you inquired. It's been too long since you've been to the house, my Mum would enjoy a visit."

  It was at this point that Patrick made eye contact with me. "Ms. O’Rourke, a pleasure to see you again," he winked as he spoke.

  "Mr. Malloy," I smiled as I acknowledged him.

  The blonde had made her way over and was shooting daggers in my direction. She had on a skin-tight pleather mini dress with thigh-high fuck-me boots. I had my doubts that anything on her was real.

  My dad said goodbye to Mr. Malloy and we got into the car. I noticed as we passed them, that Patrick winked at me, while the blonde flipped me the bird. I guess she wanted me to know her IQ.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Shannon and Dillion had become inseparable in the past three weeks. He had been to our house several nights a week for dinner and to play with Abigail. He seemed completely smitten with the both of them. Shannon swore to me that they hadn't slept together and I honestly believed her.

  Dillion showered her with gifts, flowers, and dinners out. He would bring Abigail dolls and hair bows. He was really trying. He had even gone so far as to ask our father's permission to date Shannon. Yes, he would do nicely.

  Last weekend, Dillion took both of them to meet his family. Abigail came home with nearly a whole new wardrobe and a Barbie Corvette. I had never seen Shannon happier or smiling so much. I’d definitely never heard Abigail giggle more. This made me happy.

  Dad informed Shannon that he was stealing her and Abigail away this weekend for dinner and a movie and I was asked by Charlotte to go clubbing with her. This weekend was a rare occurrence that we had no clients booked. I jumped at the chance to have an actual non-work related adult conversation.

  Charlotte agreed that we would stick to low-key bars. I didn't want to have to wade through drunken people or shout over loud music. Charlotte rolled her eyes, but agreed. She knew of a great jazz bar not far from Penciled in.

  After a long hot shower, I applied my makeup a little heavier than normal, and then spritzed on some fragrance. I dressed in a simple but elegant little black dress. It wasn't anything fancy, but you could never go wrong with the right dress. A nice pair of heels and I was out the door to meet Charlotte.

  We let the valet park the car and made our way inside to find a table in the corner of the room. The bar was all black with dark blue lighting illuminating the ceiling throughout the club. Each table was covered in a white tablecloth and had a small lamp in the center. Charlotte signaled for the waitress and then proceeded to order a martini for each of us. The music was nice and not very loud, and I was really enjoying myself. We had been there about an hour when two guys approached our table. They were very polite and asked if they could join us. The taller, more handsome one was leaning into me and inhaling deeply, before the other guy elbowed him, backing him off me.

  Well, that wasn't creepy at all.

  Charlotte explained to them that we were just trying to relax and thanked them anyway. Fortunately, they took the hint and moved along. I had just ordered my second martini when I noticed none other than Kevin walk by our table. He noticed me immediately. Throwing his hands in the air, he turned completely to our table.

  "Fuck, can't I go anywhere and not run into you?"

  His arrogance was diluting my buzz. I had been so busy with work, that I hadn't had an opportunity to find out where Kevin worked.

  "Oh, God!No, you're the one who's fucking up my night! I haven't had nearly enough to drink yet to deal with your low-life ass."

  Kevin was there with a different girl this time. She was pretty, with long black hair. I couldn't tell what color her eyes were as they were dilated. The thought crossed my mind that he had to get all of his dates stoned before they would go out with him. I turned to his date and noticed she was looking behind me.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," I addressed Kevin's date. She didn't answer me; she just kept looking behind me. "Listen, I just wanted to give you a piece of free advice, run as quickly as you can from this low-life right here. You see, Kevin will promise you the world, but the second he gets what he wants, he's out the fucking door. And whatever you do, don't have a baby with him, he doesn't take care of the one he has."

  The girl still had not made eye contact with me; whatever was over my left shoulder had her complete attention. "Is that the truth, Douce?"

  I turned in the direction of the voice. Standing there in all of his glory and his ever present entou
rage, was Patrick Malloy. His grey shirt had the top two buttons undone and his blazer matched his pants. His hair was styled perfectly, not a hair out of place. His eyes, however, were black and his face was absent of any emotion. The room seemed to grow very quiet as he waited for Kevin to answer his question. When he got no response, he then turned his attention to me.

  "Legs, care to elaborate?"

  I didn't know if it was the alcohol or because I was already pissed that Kevin was still sharing my oxygen, but the fact that he couldn't say my name really pissed me the fuck off.

  "Okay, first of all, my name is not Legs, it's Christi. That shit just pisses me off. I have a fucking name, Patrick, and I'd appreciate it if you'd fucking use it when you address me."

  The look on his face changed as I proceeded to stick my finger in his face, well more like his chest as he was considerable taller than myself. I watched as a tiny smirk began to form at the corner of his mouth.

  I didn't let him speak as I continued my word vomit.

  "This waste of fucking skin here is the father of my beautiful niece, Abigail, and the fucker knows it, too. He hasn't seen her in years and he refuses to pay one goddamn dime of court-ordered child support. So yes, Mr. Malloy, you have a low-life motherfucking dead-beat father working for you."

  His expression changed from the cocky smirk to one of anger. I should have been afraid of this quick change, but in reality, I was getting turned on.

  "Smiles' baby?" He questioned Kevin, his tone even, yet suspicious.

  Again with the code names, this was too much. Can’t the man call people by their given names?