C
HAPTER
45
Crying Wolf
Carlene walked into the pub and was so astonished at what she saw, she simply stood and stared. Her regulars were all there, gathered around her computer. They were all wearing blue rubber gloves. On the computer screen was her father. They were all laughing and talking, including her dad. Carlene snuck up behind them.
“What's going on?” she said.
“Hello,” her father said softly. “I see you're wearing your mother's earrings. That's a good sign.”
“Hi, Dad,” she said.
“I've met your friends,” he said. “I like them.” One by one, Carlene glanced at her lads. Anchor, Eoin, Collin, Billy, Ciaran, Riley, Declan, and Ronan. When Ronan caught her eye, he winked at her.
“They say you're doing a fabulous job,” her father said. “And they insist that I come see for myself.”
“That would be great, Dad,” Carlene said.
“I won't make it for Christmas, but maybe the spring.”
“I'll buy your ticket,” Carlene said.
“Too late,” her father said. “They already did.” He waved a ticket in front of him. It was wrapped in plastic. Carlene nodded, restraining herself from ambushing the lads with a hug. Her father hated public displays of affection. A few minutes later, they were saying good-bye, and her lads were all waving good-bye with their blue rubber gloves.
“Thank you,” Carlene said when the screen went dark. “Now please take those fucking things off.” The men laughed and removed their gloves. Declan held up a jar behind the bar.
“That'll be one euro for cussing, young lady.” Carlene bought them all drinks on the house, including Declan. It was nice to see him sitting on the other side of the bar for a change.
“How in the world did you get him to agree to visit?” Carlene asked them.
“It's the accent, petal,” Declan said with a wink. “Charms them every time.” She waited until they were gone. Then she picked up the phone and called her father again. She guessed she was still a bit of a coward herself, because she wasn't going to video phone him; she knew she couldn't look at him when she said what she had to say. She was just grateful when he picked up.
“Dad,” she said. “I need to tell you something. It's about Mom. It was all my fault.”
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Carlene walked and walked. The Irish countryside and miles and miles of limestone walls comforted her as she replayed her conversation with her father over and over again. It was almost too much to absorb, and she knew, had the revelation come any earlier, she might not have been able to handle it. But out here she was different. She'd changed. She was stronger.
Her mother didn't have a weak heart. Her mother had chronic depression and a razor. She'd first tried to kill herself when she was sixteen. She spent the next few years in and out of hospitals. And then, at nineteen, she fell in love with Mike Rivers, and he fell madly in love with her. The first few years she was married, love seemed to work miracles, and Renee's depression seemed to all but vanish. Then gradually, it came back with a startling vengeance. That day on the bus they were going to a pharmacy for her mother to pick up medication. She'd promised Carlene's father she would take it. That afternoon, she came home and they fought. Over nothing. He didn't even remember, except that she was in a mood. She opened her medication and poured the pills down the drain. Her father called Grandma Jane to pick Carlene up. Then he told her mother he would leave if she didn't get help, didn't take this seriously. They fought some more. Her father got in the car to drive, to clear his head. He was gone less than an hour.
He found her in the bathtub. Carlene couldn't imagine what that must have been like. It explained a lot. Why they moved so soon after her mother's death. He spared her the details of the scene, but she could imagine, she could hear the pain in his voice.
“I cleaned and cleaned,” he said softly. “But it wasn't enough. It was never going to be enough.”
It was a total shock, and she had a lot to work through now. So did her father. But it was there, in the open, where they could finally deal with it. And at least in one sense, the gloves were finally off.
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The lads all pitched in to fix the wall. Anchor, Eoin, Ciaran, Collin, and Billy had torn down the old wall before she could say shamrock. All they asked was for free drinks and free rein of the jukebox. Carlene didn't mind the heavy metal so much this time; they worked faster. With the help of the lads, Joe sheepishly removed his charred tanning bed, gave her back the bulldozer clock and ten thousand euros for the damage. He also handed her a large bag, but when she started to open it, he held up his hand.
“You can check that out later,” he said.
“Thank you,” Carlene said.
“You know what this place could use, though?” Joe said. “A deprivation tank. They're supposed to be good for the soulâ”
“Go home, Joe,” Carlene said. Then, before he could run away, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
The Half TreeâPresent Day
The cake was four feet tall. The David had never seen anything like it. He carried it like a child, afraid of tipping it on its head. Once it was safely in the back of the van, he began talking.
“This is so good,” he said. “I am glad he came home. I am glad Carlene didn't lose the pub, and they are still in love. But I am confused. Who is Sally marrying?”
“Herself,” Katie said.
“What is this?” The David said. “A joke?”
“Nope,” Siobhan said. “She wanted to wear the dress, and drink champagne, and dance, and eat cake. So she took Carlene's advice and she's throwing herself a wedding reception.”
“Without a groom,” The David mused.
“You should ask her to dance,” Katie said with a wink. “Now let's get this cake there before she murders us.”
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By the time they got back with the cake, there were so many people they were spilling outside onto the little yard. The David spotted Carlene and Ronan immediately. They were both working behind the bar. Every once in a while he noticed they would stare at each other and smile before turning away. This made him feel very good; in fact, the knot in his stomach was loosening. He walked up to Sally and asked her to dance. When it was over, Sally stood by the cake. Carlene rang a little bell behind the bar, and the place quieted down. Sally held a knife in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. She held her glass high.
“I'm becoming the man I want to marry,” she said.
“For fuck's sake,” Anchor said.
“If you're a man, then I'm gay,” Collin said.
“Me too,” Billy said. There were several wolf whistles.
“Can we get on with this?” Riley said. “I'm dying of thirst here.”
“I am liking this very much,” The David said. “I would like to marry me too.”
“I want to thank everyone for coming to my party,” Sally said. “Now, I'd like to invite up all the men who want to feed me a piece of fucking cake.”
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“I'm so happy that at least one piece of my advice worked out,” Carlene said. She was talking to Sue, who was wearing a sleeveless lavender dress. She looked gorgeous. Her hair had just been colored, even darker red and spikier than before. Despite Carlene begging her to, she wasn't drinking stiffies; instead she was sipping on a cup of tea. Carlene was happier than she'd ever been. It had been several days since the fire and you couldn't even tell. In fact, it was much better nowâthey even bought her a new dartboard that hung straight. She'd been back in business, and it was better than ever. She seemed to have crossed over some invisible line, from blow-in to local. She was one of them now.
“It's a beautiful fake wedding reception,” Sue agreed. “Are ye gonna be next?” She glanced at Ronan, then grinned at Carlene.
“We're going to see if we can get the hang of co-running the pub first,” Carlene said. “Besides, he's a terminal bachelor, or so everyone says.”
“We're all terminal,” Siobhan said. “Not here for a long timeâ”
“Just here for a good time,” Carlene finished. She grinned. Then before she knew what was happening, she saw a blur of red whizzing toward her. Just as she registered what it was, it smacked her in the face. Carlene didn't think roses could hurt so much.
“Carlene caught the fecking bouquet,” Sally said. “Just my fecking luck.”
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Carlene snuck out of bed early the next morning, praying she wouldn't wake Ronan. Lucky for her, everyone had pitched in and cleaned the night before, so she wouldn't be going downstairs to a mess. In all the excitement since the fire, she had forgotten two things. One, she wanted to see what was in the bag Joe had given her, and two, she'd never checked the security cameras. When she opened the bag, she momentarily forgot about the cameras. There sat an actual coffeemaker, a grinder, and a bag of beans imported from Italy.
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The cameras were designed to play any images they recorded on a miniature screen built into the device. Carlene held the camera in her hand and stared at it for a moment before turning it on. This one had been aimed at the front door. She had another one aimed at the back door. If neither of them showed anything, it either meant that the culprit hadn't struck in a while, or they were using another way in. She stared at the camera. Did she really want to know? After all, she hadn't been vandalized or pranked since she'd won the pub the second time.
Know thy enemy,
she thought as she pushed Play on the camera. As the images came into view, she stared, dumbfounded.
“What are you doing?” Ronan stood on the stairs, looking half-asleep. Carlene almost dropped the camera. She had to think quick. She didn't want him to see it, but if he caught a whiff of her shock, he'd insist. Carlene held up the camera.
“I tried to catch the prankster with this,” Carlene said.
“And did you?” Ronan asked.
“Let's go to breakfast. I'll tell you all about it after a good feed.”
“Nancy's?”
“Where else?”
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Carlene politely declined tea, ordered French toast and three cappuccinos. Ronan ordered the full Irish breakfast. Carlene waited until they were full. She didn't want to begin the next part of their adventure keeping any more secrets.
“You know what Declan told me when we first met?” she asked. Ronan eyed her.
“Nod and smile?” he said.
“No.”
“Sometimes when you're a publican, you've gotta be a bags?”
“No.”
“What's for you won't pass you?”
“No.”
“Say nothing till you hear more?”
“Okay, yes, he's said all those things, butâ”
“Don't get your knickers in a twist?”
“Ronan.”
“Sorry. It's justâhe's got a lot to say.”
“He just said that no matter how friendly they were to your face, or how begrudging behind your back, that you could always count on Irish people to rally around you when things were at their worstâwhen you really needed them.”
“And they didâdidn't they?”
“Yes. That's what I'm saying. They were there for me when the wall went up, they were there when the kegs went missing, they were there when the skeleton was found.”
“So it all turned out for the best.”
“That's the point,” Carlene said. Just then, a short, elderly man walked up to the table.
“You're the pub winner, aren't ye?”
“I am,” Carlene said. She introduced herself.
“Hello, Ronan,” the man said.
“Hello, Gerald,” Ronan said.
“Listen,” Gerald O'Sullivan said. “If you see Declan around, will ye tell him I'll be needing my skeleton back?”
“What?” Ronan said. He was almost out of his chair. Carlene pulled him back down.
“I'll tell him,” Carlene said.
“Thanks. I didn't think I'd be missing her, but I do,” Gerald said. “She's my one and only.”
“We'll get her back to you as soon as possible,” Carlene said.
“I hope she worked out for you,” Gerald said. “What was it, a Halloween party?”
“Something like that.”
“Ah, right so. Glad you enjoyed her.” He winked and walked away.
“Declan?” Ronan said. “And you knew?”