Hard Irish (3 page)

“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 small 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.

She clasped his hand tighter.  “Da?”

Nothing.

“Da?” 

“Any change?”

Rocky jumped at the question and bit back a groan of disappointment.  “Uncle” Pat stood in the doorway.  His Irish lilt and deep voice were similar to her father’s.  Her father had grown up with Patrick Brady in Ireland and they’d immigrated to America back in the early 1980’s.  Pat was her father’s best friend, their business partner, and her ex-father-in-law.  As a young woman she had bought into the dream her father and Pat had had, of her and Collin Brady running McKenna Construction together.  That hadn’t worked out at all and there were still after-divorce potholes that made the road bumpy for everyone.    

“Were you just talking to someone in the hall?  I heard my mother’s name and some other words.  I thought Da had spoken.”

Pat looked shocked and moved to her father’s bedside, studying him closely then shook his head.  “Wasn’t me talking, but it doesn’t look like Rory has either.  Ya sure ya heard something, lass?  Was it wishful thinking?”

Rocky frowned.  She and Pat had argued whether or not to keep her father alive via a feeding tube.  Pat didn’t want to see her father in this state of limbo forever and she’d wanted to do everything possible to keep him alive. She’d gone with the feeding tube and with every other measure that could be taken to keep him alive.  She wanted her father back.

Had she imagined the words?  If she had, she wouldn’t have imagined the words she’d heard.  Her mother’s death was too painful for him and they’d avoided taking about her.

Tears stung her eyes as she clasped her father’s hand tighter.  “Da had to have spoken, Uncle Pat.  This is an answer to prayer.”

Pat called the nurse who came and checked her father.  Barely able to breathe, Rocky waited while the nurse made a neurological assessment and took her father’s vital signs.

After finishing, the nurse shook her head.  “I’m not seeing any change in his condition, Miss McKenna.  But I’ll make a report on the chart that he spoke to you and let the doctor know in case there are any tests he wants done.”

“Thank you,” Rocky bit her lip as the nurse left.  She’d hoped for an additional indication that her father’s condition had improved.  She almost felt let down and close to tears. 

Pat set his hand on her shoulder.  “If he spoke, he’ll speak again.  I’m worried about you, lass.  All you do is work.”

She shook her head.  “There’s no ‘if’, Uncle Pat.  He spoke.  He’s been trying to tell me something important.  I’ve felt it every time I’ve come.”  She clasped her father’s hand again.  “Da, what do you mean
Keira Unforgivable?  Stop pray? 
Why would mum be unforgivable?  Why would you stop praying?”

Pat inhaled and coughed, drawing her attention.  She’d known him all of her life, but their relationship had become business only in the three years since the divorce.  Still, she could tell from his flushed cheeks and wincing frown that he was guilty of something.  “What are you not telling me?”

Pat looked sadly at her father.  “I don’t know what to do.  Rory had secrets that he wouldn’t even share with me and he made me swear upon my mother’s grave not to tell ya until he was gone.  After the construction office was broken into last month, he gave me a box to keep.  He said it was Keira’s wish for you to have the box after Rory died.  I also know your father’s attorney has stuff he’s supposed to give ya, too, but not until Rory passes on.”

Rocky stared at her him as she held onto her father’s hand.  A surreal tingling crawled over her.  Something her mother had left for her that’s been sitting hidden for five years?  Why?  Why would her father withhold anything about her mother?  Why wait until her father dies to tell her?  “I’ll call the attorney in a minute.  What’s in the box?”

“That man is not going to be happy with me.  I don’t know what is in the box, Lass.  It’s sealed.  I put it in a safety deposit box at the bank.  I can bring the box to you tomorrow afternoon.  I have a meeting with the concrete suppliers in the morning.”

Rocky wanted immediate answers and she wasn’t getting anything but frustration.  “Why haven’t you said anything before?”

“I swore to Rory I wouldn’t.  I’m still not sure I’m doing the right thing.  I don’t think he expected that he’d end up like this though.  So if he is trying to tell you something about your mother, maybe the box will help.” 

Confusion and hurt warred with her love for her parents.  She didn’t understand why they would have done this.  Why the secrets?  Why leave her things to be opened only after their deaths?  Why would her mother be Unforgivable and beyond prayer?