What would Kathleen think? By the time he’d finished his shift, it had been too late to call, though he’d been sorely tempted. She had grown up in a place of public business. O’Leary’s was a diner, though, and a pub wasn’t exactly the finest place to raise a family.
But they could class it up. He could picture it now, him and Kathleen, working together to restore the place to its former glory, turn it into a staple of the community. It would still be a bar, sure, but the welcoming, respectable kind. One where a man would feel comfortable bringing his wife for a nightcap after the movies. Or where a bunch of local boys could bond over a friendly game of pool or Monday Night Football.
Like a seed, the idea took root in his gut and began to grow.
He didn’t have that kind of money laying around though. He’d have to take out a substantial loan using the house as collateral, or sell his parents’ house outright. That wasn’t such a bad thing. There were too many memories, too many ghosts that haunted him when he lay here in the dark, alone, his restless mind unable to find peace. When he closed his eyes, he could still hear his father walking by his room before dawn, off to his job at the mill. Or scent the heavenly aroma of the freshly baked bread and rolls his mother used to make. Or hear Fitz climbing in through his bedroom window, excited because he’d somehow managed to get his hands on the latest copy of Penthouse.
Maybe it was time to move on. The house was in good shape. If he got a decent price for it, he’d be able to pay off the tax debt on the bar and still have a little left over to make Finnegan’s Pub livable, if not pristine. He was handy enough that he could do most of the repairs himself. Plus he knew enough people that would be willing to help him with the rest for free drinks and a welcoming place to go.
The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He and Kathleen could make a fresh start, make the place their own. Kathleen was good with numbers; she’d earned her degree in Accounting while he was overseas, often writing about how she found peace in the exactness of it. She could handle the business side of things and he’d run the bar. They could live on the second and third floors, which would be damned convenient.
It felt right. It would be a lot of hard work and long hours, but it would be worth it. Jack made up his mind. He was going to do it. He was going to sell the house, buy the bar, and begin carving out a new life for him and Kathleen, one they could be proud of.
He rolled over and closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time, Jack felt a glimmer of hope for their future.
The next day, Jack went into town and met with a realtor, then walked, whistling, into Finnegan’s to tell Danny the good news.
Chapter Ten
September 2015
Pine Ridge
“You’re in a good mood this morning. Pleasant dreams?”
He had a new nurse today. Not Chrissy, not Karen, but an older woman he hadn’t seen before. There was a competent briskness to her movements that reminded him of the service, and he wondered vaguely if she’d spent some time in the military.
Jack smiled, the residual hope and optimism of his latest dream still fresh in his mind. He and Kathleen, they’d had their whole lives ahead of them then. “Aye.”
“Well, your numbers are good. Dr. Yim will be making his rounds shortly. In the meantime, breakfast will be here any minute.”
He wasn’t hungry. His appetite was practically non-existent, but he’d learned the importance of picking his battles. Refusing a meal would earn him a frown, another round of vitals checks, a lecture on the benefits of eating properly, and a note in his chart. So instead he simply said, “Thank you, lass.”
She paused, her expression softening slightly, and looked him in the eye. Really looked at him, rather than at his identification bracelet, incision or I.V. insertion points. It was probably the first time she had done so. She had striking blue eyes, accentuated by what Kathleen used to call “lines of character” and filled with a look he knew all too well. In that moment, he sensed a kindred spirit. She’d known loss as well.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“I haven’t been called a ‘lass’ in a long time. Not since my father died.” Her voice was softer, more feminine than it had been.
“Hey Dad,” Michael said, breezing into the room. He took one look at the smile on the nurse’s face and stopped, raising a quizzical brow. “Is he behaving himself?”
“Yes,” she grinned. “He’s quite the charmer.”
“He is right here,” Jack reminded them, “and he can hear every word you’re saying.”
Michael chuckled. “Thanks, Kim. I’ll take it from here.”
The nurse left the room, still smiling, and Michael shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman smile before. What did you say to her?”
Jack shrugged slightly, wincing when the action pulled at the staples holding his chest together. He’d have to remember not to do that.