The Parting Glass (6 page)

Peggy brushed his auburn curls with her fingertips. “Try saying hi,” she told Megan.

“Hi,” Megan said warmly.

Kieran stared at her, his cherubic face expressionless, then he focused his gaze just behind her. Megan turned to see what had interested him and saw a reflection of the swaying tulle in the bar mirror.

“Hi,” Megan repeated.

Kieran didn’t look at her. He seemed hypnotized by the movement. Just as she started to change the subject, he gave a lopsided smile, then reached toward the mirror. “Hi. Hi. Hi.”

Peggy looked disappointed. “Better than nothing.”

“He’s not quite two,” Casey pointed out. “Boys don’t talk as early as girls.”

“But most boys know the difference between reflections dancing in a mirror and their favorite aunts.” Peggy sounded matter-of-fact. “Well, that’s going to change. When you see him again, you’re going to be surprised at the improvement.”

Megan wanted to argue. She wanted to shake some sense into her sister. When Peggy had learned Kieran’s diagnosis, she’d quit medical school, perhaps forever, divorcing herself from a lifelong dream in order to devote herself to her son. Now she was taking Kieran all the way to Ireland to live with a distant cousin the family hadn’t even known about until two months ago. All so that she could somehow turn him into a “normal” child.

Unfortunately, Peggy was the only Donaghue who believed this was the right course to follow.

“He seems pretty perky, considering all the chaos in here,” Casey said.

Megan knew Casey was trying to divert the conversation and supposed it was just as well. Peggy’s mind was made up, and all the discussion in the world wasn’t going to change it.

“I think I’ll see if I can get him to eat something, then I’m going to take him upstairs for some quiet time. We’ll be back for cake.”

Megan and Casey watched Peggy wind her way to the bar.

“I still can’t believe she’s moving to Ireland,” Megan said.

“Finish your food, Megan. The band’s gearing up for some set dancing, and you’ll be expected to give it a try.”

Megan groaned. “You couldn’t head them off?”

“They’re playing for free. Remember?”

“Hand me the Guinness, would you?”

Upstairs, Peggy settled Kieran on the living room rug with a quilt and a menagerie of stuffed toys. The apartment was plain but serviceable. Best of all, the modest rent came out of her share of the saloon’s profits. The Whiskey Island Saloon had been in the Donaghue family since its construction more than a century before. The three sisters were equal partners, and although nowadays Megan kept the food hot and the liquor flowing, both Peggy and Casey had pulled their share of Guinness along the way.

“Tomorrow we’re going on a plane,” she told her son.

He didn’t look up at her words. For months, before the battery of tests that had pinpointed Kieran’s problem, she had worried that his hearing was impaired. She hadn’t expected autism, so she hadn’t been prepared.

The day she got the diagnosis would be etched forever in her mind.

“Autistic disorder,” the specialist had said matter-of-factly, as if he were diagnosing a head cold. “Moderate, we think, although that’s not as easy to pinpoint as it might seem. It’s really a spectrum, Miss Donaghue. Generally those who suffer with it have problems understanding the emotions of others. They have difficulties with language and conversation, and they often fixate on one subject or activity. The prognosis depends on many things. Early intervention is key, but I’ll warn you, the cost, both in time and money, can be enormous.”

Now Peggy dropped to the floor and sat cross-legged beside Kieran. “We’ll go high in the air, right up into the clouds. And I’ll be with you the whole time. Just Mommy and Kieran.”

He picked at the felt eyes of a teddy bear. He never held or cuddled his toy animals. He found something to pick apart, and he could work at it for long stretches of time, only pausing to rock himself when he tired.

“Then we’ll be in Ireland,” she said. “And Mommy will set up a classroom for you at Cousin Irene’s. We’ll have toys and games, and you’ll learn so much, Kieran. I know you will. And when we come back to Cleveland, you’ll be able to speak and make eye contact and…”

He looked up. The living room curtain rustled and caught his attention. “Hi. Hi.”

She gathered him close, although he whimpered at her touch. “You’re going to have every chance I can give you,” she said fiercely. “If I have to fly to Mars and back to make sure of it.”

Four of the Brick kids found an untouched tray of Guinness and took it into the storeroom for their own private party. Casey spotted them before Niccolo could and confiscated their hard-won treasure.

Marco, his wife Paula and their two young daughters staged a slide show on one of the saloon walls of photos of Niccolo as a little boy. Not to be outdone, Uncle Den enthralled a group of admirers with story after story of the three sisters as children.

“Please, God, let the toasts begin,” Megan said. “I won’t survive much more of this.”

“Hold your head up,” Peggy said. “You’re only getting married once.”

“Can’t you get Kieran and Aunt Dee and bring them down? All of you have to be here when we cut the cake.” Peggy had settled Kieran upstairs in the apartment an hour before. Now Deirdre was sitting with him and saying her goodbyes.

“Do you really think it’s time?”

Niccolo joined them. “You know, if we’d ever put all these Andreanis and Donaghues in the same room, we probably would have been too scared to merge our genes. Can you believe our children will have both sets?” He shook his head.

Megan couldn’t imagine a child of theirs at all. She knew Niccolo wanted children right away. She’d tentatively agreed to have them someday, but not on his timetable. Marriage itself was going to take enough trial and error.

“Will you start herding everybody to the back of the room?” she pleaded. “I don’t think I’ll live through much more of this.”

“You’re having a ball.” He leaned down and kissed her, and people began to clap.

“I would like to get away sometime before dark,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Don’t look now, but it’s been dark all afternoon.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’ll herd. But don’t expect this to end any time soon.”

“They can party until the wee hours, but you and I are leaving once the cake’s been served.”

“Promises, promises.” He winked at Peggy before he left to begin edging people toward the wedding cake.

Megan watched as Niccolo made remarkable progress. At her suggestion, the cake had been set up in the back of the saloon. She had tried to get into the kitchen to make sure everything was ready for cutting and serving it, but she’d been outmaneuvered. There had been a conspiracy all day to keep her as far away from the kitchen as possible.

As if she would try to take over her own reception.

Casey joined them. “That time already? Will you be able to bring Kieran down now?” she asked Peggy.

“Maybe now that he’s had some quiet time. I can’t guarantee he’ll be tantrum free.”

“All two-year-olds have tantrums,” Megan said. “You certainly had your share.”

“You’ve got to get used to the idea that he’s not just any two-year-old, Megan,” Peggy said. “It’s the only way we can help him.”

Megan knew Peggy was right. At first Peggy, too, had struggled to accept her son’s disability, but at last she had made the adjustment. Megan was still rooted firmly in denial. “I love him. I love you. I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Peggy kissed her cheek. “You won’t. Now let me get him.”

“And I’ll help Nick,” Casey said. “He’s managed to get everybody moving. Which was the key to getting them into the back of the room faster, do you think? Cake or champagne?”

Megan was only yards away from Niccolo when the building began to shake. For a moment she thought the band had turned up their amplifiers to grab everyone’s attention. But the sound was more freight train than feedback.

The saloon shook again. A woman screamed, and Megan registered alarm on the faces closest to her. Then, as she saw Niccolo struggling through the crowd in her direction, the building shook once more, the roar grew deafening, and the front facade of the saloon collapsed inward.

The building shook again as more screams erupted. Glassware at the bar shattered and fell to the floor, and a hole the size of a child’s wading pool opened to the left of her head. Debris rained down, followed closely by water. Then both the cacophony and the tremors ceased.

“Megan!” Niccolo reached and grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

“What—” She realized she couldn’t breathe. She struggled, but her lungs wouldn’t inflate. Her legs felt like rubber bands, and she clung to him and fought for air. People were pushing past her, heading away from the destruction.

“Take it easy. It’s okay.” He smoothed her hair, but his hand trembled.

She caught a breath at last. “What—”

“Tornado,” he said. “It sucked up part of the roof. Damn, we’re idiots. Nobody was listening for tornado warnings. I—”

“Nick!” Casey reached them. “Where’s Jon?”

Niccolo released Megan. “He was in the very back. I’ve got to see what kind of damage was done. I’ve got to find my family.”

Megan started after him. She knew his real mission was to see if anyone had lagged behind and been caught in the collapse. The sight that greeted her nearly tore the breath from her lungs again. The roof over the front quarter of the building had fallen to seal off the entrance completely. What rubble she could see beneath it was waist-high. “Oh, God!”

Casey grabbed her. “Stay away, Megan. For Pete’s sake, don’t get near—”

Jon reached them. “Get in the back with everybody else. Please. It’s safer.”

“What if somebody—” Megan couldn’t finish that thought.

“Most everybody was in the back milling around the cake. If we’re lucky…Just help us get everybody else back there now. We’ll do head counts. Start, would you?”

Megan knew he was right. Thick dust choked the room, and her vision was obscured. But nothing she could see indicated that anyone had been in the extreme front when the wall collapsed.

Casey was already helping people move farther toward the back. Megan saw one of the Brick kids holding his head, but he was walking unaided. One of Marco’s daughters had a scratch on her cheek, but the bleeding didn’t look serious. Niccolo’s mother had her arm around his grandfather and was helping him walk. Megan turned to see Peggy struggling with the door to the apartment, and she remembered that Kieran was upstairs with their aunt.

As she watched, Peggy wrenched open the door, despite the crush of frantic guests, and disappeared into the stairwell. The back of the building seemed secure, but what if the second story wasn’t? What if the upstairs, which camel backed the saloon, had been blown away? The apartment only ran across the back, but what if…

She stumbled forward, helping a great-uncle who seemed unable to find his way. Once she was sure he was heading in the right direction, she made it to the door and started up the stairs.

“Peggy?” She called her sister’s name as she climbed. The stairs seemed secure. Above her, everything looked the way it always did. “Peggy! Aunt Dee!”

The door at the head of the stairwell was open. She made it to the top without incident and found Peggy and her aunt clasped together in a bear hug, Kieran screaming between them.

“Thank God.” She joined them.

“The bedroom’s wrecked,” Deirdre said calmly. “The window exploded. There’s glass everywhere, but Kieran and I were in here.”

“Let’s get downstairs. We can exit through the kitchen door. The front’s a nightmare.”

“No, we can’t get out that way,” Peggy said. “The back door’s blocked.”

Megan knew she wasn’t thinking clearly, but now she was particularly confused. “How do you know? You came straight up here.”

“A tree fell in front of the back door this morning, Megan. Right on top of Nick’s car. We’d pulled his Civic out behind the kitchen door to decorate it, and that old maple toppled right onto his roof. Nobody wanted to tell you until we had to. We didn’t want to spoil—”

“I guess you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Peggy said.

The loss of a car seemed inconsequential at the moment. “Nick’s won’t be the only car in Cleveland to suffer storm damage. Kieran’s okay?”

“Just scared. We’re all scared.” Peggy kissed Kieran’s hair.

“Aunt Dee?”

Deirdre drew herself up straight. “Let’s get downstairs. Did you see your uncle?”

Megan tried to remember if she had seen Uncle Frank. “I didn’t, I’m sorry. But I didn’t see any serious injuries.” She thought of the roof sitting at the front of the saloon and what might be under it. “Nick and Jon were checking when I came upstairs.”

“I think we need to go down right away.” Deirdre no longer sounded calm, and Megan knew reality was setting in.

They started for the stairs. Megan went first, with Peggy and Kieran right behind her and their aunt bringing up the rear.

Niccolo was waiting at the bottom, and at the sight of them, he looked relieved. “I don’t think anyone was buried in the rubble,” he said in a low voice. “There’s no sign anybody was that close. Some people were hit by flying debris. There’s some blood and some bruises, but none of the injuries are life-threatening. We’re doing a head count now.”

“Nick, there’s no exit.” Megan stepped aside to let Peggy and her aunt by. “There’s a tree blocking the kitchen door.”

“Jon told me.”

“Maybe it’s better if we stay inside until the fire department can get to us. Outside must be as bad as in. Wires must be down, trees are down. If nobody’s seriously hurt here—”

“Megan, a couple of people claim they smell gas.”

She couldn’t breathe again. She was angry at herself for succumbing to fear, but anger was not inflating her lungs.

“Take it easy,” he said, spotting her dilemma. “Let yourself go limp. Don’t think about breathing….”

She obeyed as well as she could. In a moment the light-headedness passed and air was moving again. “What’s wrong with us?” she gasped. “Why didn’t we have the radio on? Why didn’t somebody warn us?”