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“John, can you get that?”
Groaning into his pillow, John flopped a hand onto the bedside table, fumbling for the ringing phone while refusing to open his eyes.
It was Saturday. Their Saturday. Kaidan had agreed to let Carla look after the clinic by herself - which she was more than qualified to do - so that they could spend the day together. Alone. Preferably at home.
He’d had already been planning to pout over Kaidan being up and in the shower when John had had other plans about starting their day.
And now someone was calling his husband first thing in the morning.
Which was never a good sign.
Grabbing the phone, John shifted only enough so that he could get to his mouth. “What?”
There was a pause - just enough time for John to remember he was answering Kaidan’s phone, not his own - and then a small voice asked, “Dr. Kaidan?”
He opened one eye, his annoyed, half-asleep brain slow to process the voice at the other end. “Tadhg?”
Another pause, then, “Aye.”
Rolling on to his back, John rubbed a hand over his face. “Um, hey. Good morning.” He swallowed past the cotton mouth he sometimes got. “Sorry, this is…uh, Mr. John.”
Blinking at the ceiling, John tried to decide if he’d imagined the giggle. “G’morning, Mr. John. Is Dr. Kaidan up yet?”
Annoyingly, yes. “He’s in the shower.” Twisting to look toward the sound as he heard the water shut off, John ran his tongue over his teeth. “Can I take a message?”
The soft sounds of conferring children. Then, “No. You’ll do.”
Settling back into the pillow, John raised his eyebrows. “Um…thanks?”
“ Daidí needs a favor.”
Oh?
“But you can’t tell him we called.”
John frowned. “Your dad needs a favor…but I’m not supposed to know you called?”
“ Daidí has a friend coming to town today. But he doesn’t want him…” More conferring, then, as if reciting the words, “‘beset by a mob or interrogated by those’…I’m not supposed to say that word…’I call brothers’.”
John grinned as the soft sound of bare feet came down the hall. “So your dad has a problem, but you’re the ones asking for the favor?”
A pause. “Aye.”
Damp towel still around his shoulders, Kaidan appeared in the doorway to their bedroom. He wore a soft smile and nothing else, and John felt the same butterflies he’d felt that first time Kaidan had looked at him that way. Fully dressed, over a dinner neither of them ended up really liking, the candle light catching in those captivating brown eyes.
Shifting the phone to his other hand, John held out a hand to the man he loved. Returned that soft smile as Kaidan hung the towel on the back of the door and crawled back under the covers, snuggling into John’s side with a happy little hum.
“Mr. John?”
“So, this mob Caleb’s worried about,” Kaidan stopped, lips pressed against John’s shoulder in an aborted kiss, “Can I presume it’s Jackie and his friends?”
“And the, um…our uncles, too.”
Tadhg was doing his best to sound formal, but whatever word Caleb had chosen for his twin older brothers, it had apparently been the kind that made small children giggle and grin in the other room.
“And what do you think Dr. Kaidan and I can do about either of those things?” John asked as Kaidan pushed up onto his elbow to look down at John, mouthing his question so he wouldn’t interrupt.
John nodded in answer as Tadhg spoke. “We’re headed to the park in a little bit. To see Jackie and the others.” The sound of rustling fabric and voices in the background. Tadhg’s voice was quieter when he continued. “Can you meet us there?”
“And help you subtly influence your friends into not going to look for your dad’s new friend?”
“Aye.”
John smiled as Kaidan mimed groaning, dropping his head to John’s chest in defeat. “We’ll be there, Tadhg.”
“Thanks.” More voices. “I’ve got t’go.”
The call clicked off as John tossed the phone back onto the bedside table. He threaded his fingers through Kaidan’s hair with a smile as he listened to the audible groan this time.
“So much for a Saturday to ourselves.”
“Says the man who was up and showering at his usual time.”
Lifting his head, Kaidan gave John a look. “You know a routine is good for -”
“Good for mental and physical health,” John finished with him, still smiling. “I know. But a little variety helps stimulate things, too.”
“A little variety?” Kaidan asked. He traced a shape John couldn’t see on his chest. “Such as spending the day babysitting a bunch of unknowing kids? Which, I think I should mention, sounds pretty shady when you say it outloud.”
“We were invited,” John reminded him.
“By a kid,” Kaidan countered.
“We’ll be in public,” John said, not really worried. “I’m sure Jackie will know everything in minutes anyway, and you can call everyone’s parents if you’re really that worried.” Sliding his hand from Kaidan’s hair to the back of his neck, John hummed as Kaidan turned to place a kiss against the inside of his arm. “Sounds like the kids were planning to hang out today anyway.”
“We just have to keep them from noticing someone’s coming to visit Caleb,” Kaidan summarized.
“Any idea who it could be?”
“No idea.” Kaidan shifted to sit up, stopping as John snaked his other arm around his waist. “John, we have to get ready.”
“Jeans and a t-shirt, my love.” John grinned as Kaidan didn’t even pretend to resist as he pulled him back down. “How long do you need to get dressed?”
“What about breakfast?” Kaidan asked as John pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“Toaster waffles,” John offered, pressing a second kiss to Kaidan’s jaw. “You love those.” Another kiss. “Or just toast.”
“Clothes, food, time to walk to the park.” Kaidan’s eyes closed as John kissed him. The rest of his weakening objection mumbled against John’s lips. “We’re still gonna get there late.”
“Variety is good for mental health,” John reminded him. “And you, Doctor, are never late.”
Kaidan smiled slowly, eyes still closed, and John mentally dared someone else to call before coffee.
“There’s no rule that says that visitors have to check in upon arrival.” She studied the newest stranger standing on the other side of the street. “Though I’m starting to think we should add one.”
“Huh?” The voice behind her was high pitched and nasally - allergy season was upon them in force.
Bakara watched the man consult a cellphone before looking around once more at the nearby buildings. “There’s always a few scattered visitors. Norman doesn’t really have a tourist season, but we seem to count as one of those Cute New England Towns.” A pause. “Even though we’re not in New England.”
The sound of paper being shuffled, a drawer opened and shut, and the familiar clatter as Barla’s pencil cup tipped sideways, showering thin wooden writing utensils onto the floor. “Oh no.”
He really should just use a taller cup. Or maybe a coffee mug.
The man outside shoved the phone back in his pocket with a visible sigh. He ran one hand through his hair, his black jacket tugging higher on one side than the other, revealing a wide brown belt she hadn’t been able to see before holding up his dark blue jeans.
“I’m more concerned that they’re all coming from the same place.” She’d caught the man’s accent as she waited for Wrex to get on with it out by his favorite tree. Back when the man had been lost a few blocks north of her station, instead of in front of it. “Seems there’s an exodus from the UK local news isn’t covering.”
A mild wheeze as her deputy got down on his knees. “Not under the filing cabinet…”
“Though I suppose less than a dozen doesn’t really count as an invasion,” Bakara murmured, watching as the man turned sharply to look behind him, his movements that of a man who suspects he’s being followed.
Possibly by a group of small, enthusiastic adventurers, though Bakara had yet to see the expected entourage this morning.
It was Saturday morning, though.
Saturday mornings were for defending the local galactic cluster.
The man scanned the road thoroughly, then seemed to resign himself to not finding what he was looking for. Finally, he turned back around, picked a direction seemingly at random, and started off. Away from the center of town.
Probably not where he meant to be going.
Behind her, Barla yelped as he banged his head on the underside of his desk.
“Still, that’s a steadier increase in British citizens to these parts since back when tri-cornered hats were the fashion.” Bakara turned to look at the empty seat belonging to Norman’s only other police officer. “Might have to start stockpiling tea to throw in the lake.”
“What?” came the muffled voice that belonged to those practical brown shoes that were all she could clearly see of her deputy. “You want some tea?”
Favoring the shoes with a smile, Bakara raised her voice. “Tea sounds great, Von. Want anything while I’m out?”
“Take. The dogs.”
Grunt, noticing the closest thing to commotion this town might get today, had decided to be helpful, his large beige muzzle shoving itself under the desk with her deputy and undoubtedly drooling on everything.
Grabbing her hat off the coat rack by the door, Bakara whistled loudly.
The scrabbling of clawed feet almost covered the next loud bang and ensuing curse of her suddenly abandoned deputy.
Jackie was going to be dangerous when he got older. Not so much for that whip-smart mind - though Jackie Harper was far too clever for being only fourth grade - but for his ability to keep his cool. To play, with great focus and enthusiasm, for nearly half an hour before curiosity got the better of him.
And then to flop down on the bench next to John like he really did need the water break. “Hello, Mr. Shepard.”
“Hey, Jackie.” John held out the water bottle Kaidan had pulled from their pack, waiting for the boy to take a greedy swig as Rahna shrieked and dove for the sandbox. “How goes the adventuring?”
“The enemy seems particularly incompetant today.” Looking up at John, Jackie gave him an approving nod. “I don’t think they’d planned for backup when they decided to invade.”
“We’re not actively defending anything,” John pointed out. Legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, one arm along the back of the bench while the other rested across Kaidan’s shoulders, John couldn’t imagine a more relaxed and defenseless position.
No matter who was invading.
“Jacob says your mere presence gives us the appearance of reinforcements, which influences the opposition by making them think this is going to be a harder fight than planned” Jackie explained. He took another swig. “Something about a placebo effect.”
“I’m not sure that’s how that works,” Kaidan observed, but he stayed leaning into John’s side, the fingers of one hand tangled with John’s, and he didn’t sound any more worried about their effectiveness as backup than John felt.
Though given how much less inclined Kaidan had been to get out of bed the second time this morning, maybe his husband was just feeling happy and lazy, too.
And for that, Jacob could call his “reinforcements” whatever the hell he wanted.
Watching Niamh charge past with Kelly hot on her heels, shouting something back and forth as they waved leafy branches they’d found earlier over their heads, John waited for the last thread of youthful self-restraint to snap.
“Are you planning to be our reinforcements all day?”
Kaidan shook with silent laughter as Jacob’s attempt to do something foolish on the monkey bars ended with the boy flat on his back in the mulch, the “oof” loud enough to hear from here.
“Maybe.” Looking down at his student, John did his best to look conspiratorial. “Can you keep a secret?”
To his credit, Jackie tried his very best not to look excited. “Yes.”
“Mr. O’Connell is up to something at the pub today, and he’s requested that he be allowed to do it in peace and relative isolation.”
Jackie nodded. “He doesn’t want to trip over Jacob again.”
“Tripping isn’t much fun,” John pointed out as, back on his feet, Jacob proceeded to demonstrate just how not fun tripping really was.
“Is he supposed to know that word?” John asked as Kaidan bit his lip to keep his laugh inside.
“Mom says he was gonna learn it sooner or later,” Jackie answered, watching his friend climb back to his feet for a second time in the same minute. “But Ms. Williams did ask that he not say it at school.”
John hummed in understanding as Tadhg succeeded when Jacob had failed, scrambling across the top of the monkey bars. “I don’t know if we’ll count as reinforcements all day, but I was asked if I could keep an eye on any potential tripping hazards for a few hours.”
Jackie was watching his friends with a critical eye. “They’re going to want to know why you’re using your day off to hang out at the park.”
“It’s a nice park,” John said. “And I brought my best friend with me.” He squeezed Kaidan’s shoulders as Jackie leaned over to consider the claim. “Just like you all.”
“I’ve never felt the need to kiss Jacob,” Jackie said.
Kaidan gave up on subtlety, burying his face in one hand.
“I’ve never felt the need to kiss Joker.” John dropped a kiss on the top of Kaidan’s head. “There are different kinds of best friends.”
Jackie nodded again, mollified. “What if…I told Jacob if it was you two who needed watching?”
“Gonna follow us around all day?” John asked.
“We were debating a trip to the diner later,” Kaidan reminded him, the words slightly muffled behind his hand.
“We could be bodyguards, then.” Jackie sounded pleased with the idea. He grinned as he looked up at John. “Like an escort service!”
“Bodyguards sounds like a great plan,” John said as Jackie slid off the bench.
“Escort service sounds more professional,” Jackie declared, handing John back the water bottle.
Kaidan lasted until Jackie made it back to the mulched part of the playground before grinning at him. “Really?”
“They’re a little young,” John commented, “and I’m not sure Jacob is the conversationalist he thinks he is.”
“John.”
“It’s been a while - what’s the going rate for an escort these days, anyway?”
“ John. ”
“You think their parents might object to them explaining they played escorts to two grown men all day?”
Kaidan shoved John in the chest, earning himself a short laugh. “Maybe you should have brought your other best friend; Joker would find this as funny as you do.”
Trapping Kaidan against his side by dropping his arm to Kaidan’s waist, John pressed a lingering kiss to Kaidan’s cheek. “How about I play escort, and the kids can be my bodyguards?”
“And what does that make me?” Kaidan asked, his hand still resting on John’s chest.
“The very handsome doctor who wanted some company on his day about town,” John said.
Kaidan laughed and shook his head. “You are not to phrase it that way in front of them. Kids repeat everything.”
“Usually in front of whoever will be the most scandalized,” John agreed. He waved at Jackie, who was pointing back to them as he said something to Jacob, who was wearing his 008 face. “Though by the time Jacob gets done with things, we might be hostages who needed rescuing. Escorted to safety by -”
“If you want today to end the way it started, John, you won’t finish that idea.”
“He seemed stressed,” Conrad said, shooting her a worried look.
Popping her gum, Sarah turned another page in her magazine. “He’s lost, Conrad. That tends to stress people out.”
Conrad looked after the stranger who’d only just managed to not stomp out of the town’s tiny - and only - grocery store. Standing up by the cash register, the blond man was unconsciously gripping the box of ice cream bars tight enough to dent the brightly colored cardboard. “Yeah. Impressive, though.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow, but not her eyes. “Yeah?”
“Well, he’s not from around here.” She could feel those big grey eyes on her now. “I mean, how many wrong turns does it take to accidentally cross a whole ocean?”
Now she did raise her eyes. “Conrad, I don’t think he’s in Norman on accident. I think he came to the grocery store on accident.” She shrugged, looking back down at the magazine. “Probably looking for the Doc’s house.”
“Oh.” A concerning pause. “That’s not good.”
She turned another page. “Why not?”
“Because I told him how to get to Chakwas’ place.” Conrad sounded genuinely worried. “Dr. Alenko lives on the other side of town.”
She chewed her gum for a long moment. “Conrad…Chakwas is a doctor.”
“Not anymore.”
“And she’s British.”
“So?”
Sarah looked back up at her, oddly, most reliable employee. “So: a new guy in town, looking for a doctor, with a British accent of his own?”
Conrad nodded. “But it’s just an accent. The language is the same.” He stopped short, still holding the box of ice cream bars that had to be half melted by now. “Unless…I know they say ‘lift’ instead of ‘elevator’, but it’s still a town square, right?”
“I have no idea,” Sarah said, eyeing an advertisement for bleach that showed a merrily laughing woman pouring the clear liquid on a fleeing crowd of screaming germs. “I know very little about the UK.”
Conrad considered that for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I think you were right the first time, Wills.” She looked at him, confused, and he helpfully clarified. “I think he’s from Britain.”
Sarah popped her gum, considered offering Bray double to come back to work on school days, and went back to studying the dying germs. “You’re probably right, Conrad.”
Sam jumped as the door banged open, the look of surprise resolving into recognition as she paused in clearing the last of the tables from lunch. “Hi, kids. What brings you to the diner on this particular Saturday?”
“Milkshakes!” chorused a handful of voices as half a dozen kids crowded in to greet Sam before clambering up onto the barstools. Jackie hung back, hugging his mother around the legs before joining his friends.
Ruffling her son’s hair, Sam looked up as John and Kaidan brought up the rear. “Are you gentlemen getting milkshakes as well?”
“No,” John said, eying the happily chatting crowd at the bar, “but I think I’m getting stuck with the bill all the same.”
At one end, Jacob was earnestly explaining something to Jackie, who didn’t seem nearly as worried. Next to him, Niamh had placed Mooses Squoosh up on the counter so she could see, while Tadhg was admiring one of Rahna’s temporary tattoos. At the end of the line, Kelly was putting her hair back into pigtails; why the girl didn’t just tell her mother she didn’t like them, John would never understand, but they weren’t his pigtails to like.
“Coffee, for me,” Kaidan was saying as Jacob almost fell off his stool in his excitement over whatever it was Jackie had just agreed to.
“Oh, come on,” chastised a voice to their left. “You’re already married - no need to be a cheap date now.”
Half a dozen heads turned toward the voice. Glancing past his husband, John grinned at the twin expressions of mischief aimed their way. “Alec. Iain. You here for milkshakes, too?” He caught the slight stiffening in Tadhg’s shoulders and Niamh’s attempt to reassure him by offering him the stuffed moose.
“The diner serves other things,” Alec said, one arm on the back of the chair as he twisted to look at them. Across the table, Iain rattled his straw in the empty milkshake glass, winking at the girls who giggled at the sound. “Maybe we came down for a nice healthy salad.”
“A side salad between two slices of bread?” Kaidan asked.
“With ham and cheese instead of dressing,” Alec said, tucking the last of his sandwich into his mouth.
“I happen to like coffee,” Kaidan said as Sam took the dishes she’d been carrying back to the kitchen. “And James makes the best in town.”
“Oh, aye,” Iain said, setting down his glass. He returned Niamh’s wave but didn’t seem interested in getting up. Let alone bolting across the square to see what his younger brother might be up to. “That’s why we were here this morning.”
“You know it’s after noon?” John asked.
“We got to chatting.” Iain gestured toward the kitchen. “Your James is quite the storyteller.”
“Whisked us away to all kinds of interesting places,” Alec said.
“Whisked away the morning, too.”
“Did that Moreau fellow really -”
“You know, for a covert mission,” John interrupted, loud enough for the lieutenant hiding in the kitchen to hear, “there sure are a lot of people who know Joker’s specific brand of idiocy.”
Again, matching grins. “We hear he was responsible for the St. Patrick’s Day celebration,” Iain said. At the counter, the young pair of Irish citizens groaned.
“Mr. Moreau’s in charge of all the town’s festivities,” Kelly said, trying to be helpful. She smiled her thanks as Sam handed out menus.
The kids didn’t need them - most people in town didn’t need them - but there was a ritual to milkshakes, and step two was reading the menu.
Step one was sorting out the order of the bar stools.
“So, you’re sayin’,” Alec said, his attention sliding back to the kids, “that if we stick around till the next big holiday, we’ll get to see this Moreau fella in action for ourselves?”
“If you’d been a few days earlier, you could have been here for the Mother’s Day event,” John said.
Iain raised an eyebrow as Alec laughed. “The what?”
“Can I please get vanilla this time?” Rahna asked, derailing the inquiry. She leaned forward on the counter, no doubt glaring at Jacob. “How come milkshakes have to be fancy?”
“Because it’s a milkshake ,” Jacob answered, not looking away from his menu.
“But I like plain vanilla,” Rahna argued.
“Rules are rules,” Alec said, sounding genuinely apologetic as the girl whipped around to look at him, displeased at Jacob’s unknown backup. “Gotta be fancy.”
“You just like fancy,” Iain scoffed, but he didn’t quite manage to hide the teasing twinkle. “It’s why he joined the Garda, y’know - the fancy uniform.”
“What if it’s not plain vanilla?” Kaidan asked.
Eight pairs of eyes focused on his suddenly shy husband.
“Not plain?” asked Rahna.
“Vanilla is always plain,” Kelly said.
“It’s why ‘vanilla’ means boring!” Jacob declaimed.
“What about French Vanilla?” Kaidan asked, lifting his chin in that way he did when he hadn’t planned to be the center of attention. “That’s fancy.”
“French Vanilla?” asked Jacob, skeptically.
“We’re not in France,” Kelly pointed out helpfully.
“It’s just American vanilla around here,” Rahna said, sounding awfully disappointed for someone who hadn’t known that French Vanilla existed thirty seconds ago.
“French Vanilla is a term,” came James’ voice from the kitchen. John frowned at the lack of enthusiasm - if James had been telling stories, he should have been in a good mood. Compulsively friendly and always happy to see the kids; not monotone and distracted.
But his face did appear in the food service window, sporting a smile, if a smaller one than expected. “And it’s the only kind of vanilla ice cream I serve.”
“I want vanilla!” Rahna shouted, her hand raised like she was in class.
“Me, too,” said Niamh, speaking up for the first time. She glanced at her uncles, then went back to playing with one of Mooses Squoosh’s antlers. “And can you make it green, again?”
“Green?” Alec asked, but soft enough that the kids couldn’t hear. Curious, but not about to discourage.
“Caleb put his foot down on green beer,” Kaidan explained. “But he let the green milkshakes slide.”
“Good man,” Alec said, mock formally. “Green beer is an arresting offense, y’know.”
“Green milkshakes are proof of good sense,” Iain added. “You’ll notice it was our niece who ordered it.”
“I’ll stick with chocolate chip cookie dough, please,” Kelly said, handing Sam back her menu.
“Mint chocolate chip,” Tadhg requested, and Alec and Iain exchanged approving looks at the further use of green ice cream.
“The usual, please,” Jackie said, and returned his mother’s smile.
“And I,” Jacob said, with the usual gravitas of this part of the milkshake ritual, “will have the Rainbow Sunshine Surprise.”
“The what?” chorused the twins as the rest of the kids dissolved into giggles as Sam carried the menus into the kitchen like a relic in an ancient ritual.
Moving over to the booth, John lowered his voice. “James dumps a whole bunch of food coloring into a vanilla milkshake, hence the rainbow. It makes the ice cream look off white, like sun spots caused on a sunny day.”
“And the whole thing came about because Jacob wanted to be surprised one day,” Kaidan finished as he followed. He gave Kelly a nod of confirmation as she tugged at her hair, silently asking if her pigtails were even.
Iain squinted up at them, but kept his own voice low. “Does no one see the irony that the kid who won’t let ya order plain vanilla has only been ordering plain vanilla?”
“You’ll crush the whole town if you tell him,” John said as Kaidan mimed zipping his lips.
“It’s always the small towns,” Alec said. He glared at his brother, who beamed in response. “Fancy Garda uniform or not, y’ learn things on the force.”
“Like that lying to small children is acceptable?” Iain asked, archly.
“Like everyone has their secrets,” Alec said, equally dramatic, “and the smallest towns have the most.”
“I can’t serve you coffee if you’re standing up, Doctor.”
All four men glanced over to see Sam holding a mug of hot coffee.
“Is that an American thing?” Iain asked as Alec scooted down the bench. “Strange thing to have a law for.”
“If the kids have to sit to drink, the adults do, too,” Alec explained, sotto voce. “Now shove up so the good doctor can have his caffeine.”
Sliding along the other bench, Iain eyed the kids at the bar. “If drinking standing up is discouraged in this town, Caleb’s gonna have one hell of a boring pub.”
“And speaking of our dear brother,” Alec said, propping his elbows on the table to balance his chin on his fists, “I do believe ensuring you get to drink your coffee owes us another round of stories.”
“A whole round?” Kaidan asked, taking a sip. “For one cup of coffee?”
“It is the best cup in town,” Iain said.
Kaidan hummed, unconvinced. “Best cup or not, I think it’s time you picked John’s brain for dirt.”
“Dirt?” John asked as both pairs of green eyes refocused on him. “I have a very clean mind, thank you.”
“Do not,” Alec said.
“Can’t have,” Iain agreed.
“Why not?” John asked.
“Because your husband’s too happy,” Alec said.
“Takes a bit of creativity to keep things going long term,” Iain agreed.
“Anybody wanna hear about the time the British Army sniper fell in a lake?” John asked, ignoring Kaidan’s poorly hidden chuckle.
She still wasn’t sure if the plants in the windows were fake. They never seemed to change, but she was sure she’d seen the mom of this mom ‘n pop watering them before. And the one on the end with the little yellow flowers was definitely new.
Probably new.
She didn’t remember yellow flowers.
“The first Saturday you don’t have to work at the garage or do teacher stuff, and you’re going to spend it staring at plastic flowers?”
“Are we sure they’re plastic?” Forking another pair of noodles into her mouth, Ash hummed happily at the familiar taste of the buttery garlic sauce. Fieri’s had always been the best place for comfort food. Not as great as Vega’s interpretation of Mulligatawny soup, but if she had to pick a place outside of Norman, Fieri’s was it. “And it’s my day off - I’ll enjoy it how I choose.” She jabbed her fork at her sister. “You’re the one who taught me that.”
Abby laughed around her own mouthful of mixed greens. “That was back when I was trying to convince you to drive all the way up to my school so I could blow off a day of vet classes. I had an obvious ulterior motive.”
“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t good life advice.”
“If you say so.” Abby stabbed a piece of chicken breast decorating the top of her salad. “You know I almost failed that anatomy class ‘enjoying my days off how I choose’.”
“Fewer papers for your professor to grade.”
“And is this how you think of your students’ hard work?” Abby faked a tone of muted incredulity, pressing her napkin to her knitted green chest with manufactured dismay. “How their education must suffer - doomed to be instructed by a teacher more interested in going out once in a while than making sure their papers get graded.”
“Maybe I just believe in teamwork,” Ash said, grinning at her sister’s display. “Steve’s grading the spelling tests.”
“The bus driver?”
Ash frowned, another forkful of noodles paused halfway to her mouth. “Our very competent and overqualified bus driver.”
Holding up both a hand in apology, Abby shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was rude. The man should clearly be used for his ability to correct the word ‘subterfuge’ on twenty-six different spelling tests.”
“I’m still not sure I should dock points for that one,” Ash grumbled. “When did words like ‘subterfuge’ end up on the fourth grade spelling lists?”
“Who knows?” Crunching on a crouton, Abby wiped her fingers on her napkin. “Pretty sure I still can’t spell it, and I’m way past fourth grade.”
“Not to mention that ‘subterfuge’ is one of those words that has an American spelling and a British spelling,” Ash added. She speared another pair of noodles. “Can’t just be an English spelling.”
“Well, you’re the one dating a Brit.” Abby grinned. “Go ask him about it.”
“Caleb is Irish,” Ash said, taking a bite, “and we’re not dating.”
“You’re not?”
“We’re not.” Ash chewed for a moment. “I…think we’re not.”
Abby raised a perfectly shaded eyebrow. “You think you’re not ?”
“He’s just visiting.” Ash swallowed her mouthful as her sister finished off her iced tea. “He doesn’t live here, he’s got a life back home. He has kids .”
“He’s literally opening a business in the center of town.”
“That he could easily sell when he moves back,” Ash countered, letting a little of that sing-song whine color her tone. Much to her middle school annoyance.
“Ashley Madeline,” Abby said, crossing her arms before leaning them on the table in a blatant display of poor etiquette. “Caleb O’Connell isn’t going anywhere any time soon. He’s got family in town - hell, rumor has it the man he almost married is our own sweet doctor - and friends. He’s helping Joker with holiday stuff. He enrolled his kids at your school.” Abby flicked her finger at a crumb, knocking it off the table. “And I don’t care how practical or easily bored men are - none of them are going to refurbish a building while on vacation.”
“And all that warranted the use of my full name?” Ash asked. She frowned as something passed over her sister’s face. “What?”
“Ash,” Abby said, “the man is tall, dark, handsome and he’s got a good heart to boot. You literally had the perfect man just walk into your life and show interest in you, and you’re going to play coy about it?”
“Maybe a guy with a new job and young kids isn’t looking for a lady in his life,” Ash deflected. “Or, you know, that kind of long-term lady.”
“Because Norman is where you go for casual hookups,” Abby deadpanned.
“Look, I didn’t say I didn’t want to date him,” Ash said, her voice rising for a moment in frustration. She waved apologetically at the pop currently behind the cash register. “But…I don’t know, Abby.” She shoved at the noodles on her plate, suddenly less interested. “We’ve been out a few times -”
“Getting up on a dozen, by my count.”
“- but I went out on twice that many dates with Kevin and then found out we were ‘keeping it casual’.” Ash stabbed a noodle with more force than strictly necessary. “And Caleb and Dr. Alenko were never engaged.”
“Serves you right for dating a guy named Kevin,” Abby said, “and the town gossips will never believe you.”
“The town gossips need to learn to check their facts,” Ash grumbled. “You can ruin a good marriage, running off at the mouth.”
“Engaged or not,” Abby said with a wink, “Alenko’s very happily married, and I hear his poor, devastated ex-lover has found someone new.”
Ash stuffed the bisected noodle into her mouth and gave Abby her best, “you’re an idiot” stare.
It hadn’t worked when they were kids, and it didn’t work now. “Why the hell are you out with your sister on your day off, instead of snagging Norman’s most eligible bachelor?”
“He’s got a friend coming into town today.” She’d brushed away his apology, letting the man she might be dating pull her into a hug as she told him - sincerely - how much she enjoyed her lunches with her sister. “We’re doing dinner on Tuesday, anyway.”
“Dinner?” Abby asked, both eyebrows up now. “On a school night?”
“Listen,” Ash said as Abby laughed, “that rule was stupid and you know it.”
Abby's laugh trailed off into a sigh. “It was.” Flicking another crumb off the table, her smart, ambitious, unstoppable sister stared at the little plastic candle that sat, unlit, in the middle of their table. “Truth is, Ash…the perfect guy just came and found you. Cute, clever, kind - and he likes you back. Do you know how often that happens?”
“Never.”
“ Rarely . This is the first time I’ve seen it, anyway.”
Abby wouldn’t admit it short of being caught in a choke hold, but Ash knew her sister didn’t dream of a life lived alone. Yes, she had her family and her friends, and all the people who chatted with her while she looked over the dogs and cats and ferrets of this town, but she still went home to an empty apartment every night.
And no matter how proud or capable they all were, none of the Williams sisters was dead set on being single.
They all just…seemed to stay that way.
Pursing her lips, Ash speared a noodle and held it out to her sister. A peace offering, even if there hadn’t been a fight. “Hey, chin up, buttercup.” As hoped, Abby frowned at the old nickname. “You never know - maybe…things are starting to change. Maybe this new friend of Caleb’s will be tall, dark, and handsome, too.”
“He’s got a heck of a track record. The pair of men who followed him to town are smartass redheads,” Abby reminded her.
“True,” Ash conceded, “but this is our fantasy.” Watching Abby stick to her rule about carbs at lunch, Ash popped the noodle into her own mouth. “So, what do we think Caleb’s friend looks like?”
Abby considered the question, the lines in her forehead smoothing out. “You know…I don’t need him to be tall. Taller than me, but who wants to stand on a box to kiss their man? Wouldn’t mind broad, though.” She grinned at the image. “I like a man with shoulders.”
Ash chuckled, but said nothing.
“And…short hair, I think.” Propping her chin on one fist, Abby shifted her gaze to the maybe-real flowers as she sketched out her maybe-real man. “That military style is pretty sexy.” She flicked a glance at Ash. “I’m going with decent moral standing and base intelligence as a given.”
“You don’t want to date Kevin?” Ash asked, reaching for her own iced tea.
“Service to your country is attractive,” Abby replied. “Community service because you’re a dumbass is not.” A pause. “Dark hair, to go with his eyes. ‘Eyes like the sea after a storm.’”
Ash’s lips twitched. “And does your Dread Pirate Roberts have a scar? A long-faded cut across his cheek, that he refuses to tell you where he got it from?”
“Yes, and don’t forget a nice voice.” Abby grinned so Ash knew it was coming. “ Proper British, if you please. And kinda gravelly, like he’s growling when he talks.”
It came out more a rumbly croak, but Ash grinned as Abby laughed at her. “Oh yeah, Abbs. That’s the stuff, right there.”
“You’re just jealous because my guy’s country owns yours.” Reaching over, Abby stole a noodle, grinning in triumph.
“Gotta marry up in this world,” Ash conceded. “Though some of us are stubborn and marry for love.”
“Yes,” Abby teased, “how you suffer. ‘Settling’ for loving a tall, dark, handsome -”
“Can we get the check, please?” Ash called, waving a hand and risking the pop’s disapproval as Abby dissolved into giggles once again.
The diner had a large plastic clock conveniently placed in the center of the back wall where anyone could see it. It was a simple black and white one, with easy to read numbers and a motor loud enough to hear from the other side of the counter on a quiet day.
It was hard to hear anything past Jacob’s conspiratorially loud whispering, but that wasn’t what Tadhg was worried about anyway.
He couldn’t remember what time Da had said Uncle Coats was coming.
The clock said it was after noon, and he knew Uncle Coats wasn’t supposed to get here before lunch. Da had explained the time zones again, but while he could remember that it wasn’t the same time here as in Ireland, he could never remember how much the difference was.
But he could remember not before lunch.
“How many milkshakes do you think Uncle Iain can eat in one day?” Niamh asked, peering past his shoulder at the booth the adults were sitting in. Mr. John and Dr. Kaidan had sat on the outside of the booth, so their uncles wouldn’t be able to bail out easy if they got any ideas about going to bother Da . But there was also only so long a person could play with the straw in a milkshake.
“I don’t know,” Tadhg said, plucking at his own red plastic straw. “Maybe four?”
“He’s already had two,” Niamh said.
“Who’d want to eat four milkshakes in one day?” Rahna asked, leaning suddenly into Tadhg’s space. “That much dairy can make a person sick.”
“Aye, but he’s a grown up,” Niamh said. “They eat more than we do.”
“But four whole milkshakes,” Rahna repeated as Kelly pushed her own empty glass away and looked over, curious. “That seems like a lot.”
“Isn’t there a milk challenge for that?” Kelly asked. “Something about drinking a gallon?”
“You can’t drink a gallon of milk,” Tadhg said, absently. He couldn’t remember why, though.
But Rahna was nodding her head. “You’d get in trouble. That’s wasting groceries.”
“I don’t think internet challenges worry about wasting groceries,” Kelly said.
“You kids all done?” Sam smiled as she held out a hand, offering to clear their dishes. Tall and pretty, Jackie’s mother was the diner’s only real waitress. There must have been someone who could cover her shift when Sam needed a day off - if Jackie got sick or the family wanted to go on vacation - but Tadhg wasn’t sure who it was. It was kinda like how Mr. Vega was the only cook - there had to be someone who could cover for him when he and Mr. Cortez went away for the weekend.
Norman was a small town, though. Maybe they just closed the diner if Mr. Vega or Sam couldn’t come in.
Kelly and Rahna pushed theirs towards Sam, returning the smile with big ones of their own. Tadhg kept his, poking the little bit of melted green ice cream at the bottom of the tall glass. Maybe if he blew bubbles in it like Jackie did when he thought no one was watching, he’d remember what time Da had said.
“Tadhg?” Sam was still smiling when he looked back up. “Still need a few minutes?”
He didn’t, not really, so he surrendered the glass. Niamh kept hers, as did Jackie, though Jacob had finished.
Which posed its own problem.
“What are we doing for the rest of the day,” Rahna called down the bar, right on the mark. Tadhg winced at the idea of trying to come up with a plan for how to convince Jacob they should go back to the park. His friend had a nose for excitement, and while the kids were allowed to go to the pub, they just weren’t allowed to go today .
Which meant Jacob would absolutely want to go today.
“Why don’t we go back to my house?” Jackie was watching Harbinger crawl down his arm, cockroach feelers tapping on everything as the bug debated getting down onto the counter. “I have to go home for a few minutes, anyway.”
“How come Harbinger never stays in his cage?” Rahna asked with a frown. “Doesn’t he like his home?”
“He likes adventure!” Jacob said, approving loudly of the bug’s need to explore. Behind them, Tadhg could almost see his uncles’ ears perking up. If anybody loved adventure more than Jacob, it was Uncle Alec and Uncle Iain.
“But he risks getting squashed every time he comes to school,” Kelly pointed out as Dr. Kaidan grinned widely. Mr. John must be explaining the relationship between a seemingly normal town and one very stubborn bug. “Mr. Cortez’ll do it. He’s serious about not having bugs on his bus.”
“Life’s full of risks,” Jacob said, nodding sagely as Uncle Iain laughed into one fist. Then Jacob grabbed a napkin, sliding it under Harbinger’s questing feet before they hit the counter. “But Mr. Vega will get grumpy if Harbinger steps on his counter.”
“And this is the compromise?” Jackie asked, taking advantage of the fact that he could lift only one eyebrow at a time. “A napkin on the counter?”
“I’m workin’ with what I got,” Jacob said, mimicking some old movie none of them had ever heard of. “Be grateful.”
“Jackie, do you think you could -”
Sam paused in the doorway as Jackie and Jacob both dropped their hands over the napkin. Niamh, calm as Da when a customer started shouting, reached over and set Mooses Squoosh on top of them.
“...could run something home to Mom for me?” Sam finished slowly, eyeing the pile.
“Absolutely,” Jackie said.
“We’d love to,” Kelly chimed in.
“We could all go,” Rahna added, smiling innocently.
Sam nodded, clearly not fooled, and went back into the kitchen. “Alright. I’ll get the bag, then.”
They waited till the door closed to move. Jackie scooped Harbinger up, napkin and all, and tucked him in a pocket. Tadhg winced in sympathy at the attitude problem that was going to cause - he knew bugs could bite, but cockroaches were nasty about it. Jacob spun on his stool, sliding off with that eager look that usually meant there was a jungle that needed exploring.
Behind them, the adults stood up, too. “I suppose three in a day would be too much,” Uncle Iain was saying, looking wistful.
“You’ll make yourself sick,” Uncle Alec said. “You remember back when we were in Year 9?”
At the bar, Rahna and Kelly exchanged knowing looks.
“You kids headed back to the park?” Mr. John asked, stepping out of the way as Uncle Alec slid out of the booth.
“We’re going to Jackie’s house,” Niamh said, tucking Mooses Squoosh back under her arm.
“Mother needs us to run something home,” Jackie said.
“And then ,” Jacob struck one of his famous poses; finger out, eyebrows down, legs in what he insisted was a “power stance”, “we’re going to trap Harbinger, once and for all!”
“The infamous insectoid escape artist,” Uncle Alec murmured.
Still in the booth, Uncle Iain was watching something outside the window. “Hey…did you see -”
“I saw him,” Uncle Alec cut him off, and Tadhg felt his stomach drop. You didn’t have to know his uncles long to recognize that calm was dangerous. “He’s walked past at least twice.”
“Who?” Dr. Kaidan asked, leaning over to look out the window.
“A relative.” Mr. John shot him a smile as Tadhg shifted nervously on his stool. “I assume, anyway. Seems like all the strangers in town these days are related to a certain tall Irishman.”
“If he is a relative,” Uncle Iain said, and Tadhg tried not to squirm on his stool, “we should go help him. Make sure he’s not lost.”
“Help him find a place to stay,” Uncle Alec agreed, the grin trying desperately to form.
“Maybe show him about the town.”
“Or you could leave well enough alone.” Dr. Kaidan stood up, ignoring the several raised eyebrows aimed his way. “I mean, whoever it is, if he’s walked by twice, he’s clearly lost but determined to figure out where he’s going all on his own.”
“And you don’t think we should help?” Uncle Alec asked, pretending to be shocked. “Isn’t that what doctors do? Help people?”
“It’d probably be more appreciated if you helped plan his welcome party,” Mr. John said, and Tadhg recognized the carefully casual way he said it. The man was trying to keep his promise, trying to bait his uncles away from their quarry. “If he is a relative, I’m sure he’ll find the pub before he finds his house.” Mr. John shot Uncle Alec a look. “Unless you think Caleb’s got the bar up to snuff?”
“You’re asking us to go pester our brother instead of the friend who came to see him?” Uncle Alec asked. Tadhg guessed he’d seen through the tactic, but he looked like he was considering the change in plan all the same.
Pushing out of the booth, Uncle Iain stood up. “That’s a fair idea, Alec. Gotta make sure our brother knows how to properly welcome an Englishman.”
“Wouldn’t want him to misrepresent good ol’ Irish hospitality,” Uncle Alec agreed.
“And a new pub is could always use a spare set of eyes -”
“Make sure he’s got the toilets stocked with paper and enough ice in the back -”
“No chairs with wiggling legs just yet -”
Tadhg watched his uncles accompany each other out the front door, stepping on each other’s words in their usual excitement. They’d be across the square and bothering Da in two minutes at best, and that meant they’d be front and center when Uncle Coats finally did manage to find the pub.
A large hand set a few bills on the counter next to him, and Tadhg followed the arm up to find Mr. John giving him a small smile. “Sorry for the insanity headed toward your dad, but you did ask me to keep your uncles away from your dad’s friend .”
And just like that, Tadhg didn’t feel so bad. “Aye…that is what I asked.”
“So, as long as you keep your friends busy trying to contain a certain insect,” Mr. John was the kind of adult who paid attention when kids corrected a term, “I think you’ll have succeeded at what you were trying to do today.”
“And you and Dr. Kaidan can go back to having your day off?” Tadhg asked. He felt Niamh poke him in the ribs as Mr. John’s smile morphed into a look of surprise. “Mr. Vega mentioned that he was surprised to see you two in here. Something about time on the couch and chocolate for dessert.”
Mr. John made the noise that adults make when they think a kid shouldn’t know something, but Tadhg let it go. Mr. John was nice, and he didn’t usually treat kids like children, so it was OK if he thought they were too young to know that married people still like to kiss.
“Do you think Da will be mad that everybody found out?” Niamh asked as Mr. John paid Sam for everybody’s food. “He was hoping Uncle Coats could get a few hours in town without any trouble.”
“Sounds like Uncle Coats had a few hours in town without any trouble,” Tadhg said. “He just spent them all wandering around lost.” To his surprise, Tadhg found he was smiling. “And we never told Da we were going to do that, we decided it on our own. As far as Da is concerned, he just got lucky that everyone left him alone this morning.”
Sam reappeared, carrying a big canvas bag. Jacob took it with a formal bow, the newest of their adventures already forming in his friend’s head. On his other side Kelly and Rahna slid off their stools and headed for the door, back to debating milkshakes and their ability to make adults sick, too.
Sliding off her own stool, Niamh waited for him to join her before following everyone out the door. Jackie took point on leading the way home, Jacob narrating their adventure so everyone would know what was in the bag and why it needed protecting. Their uncles had already vanished across the square, the pub door propped ominously open.
Tadhg smiled at the kinds of words Da was no doubt using in the attempt to dislodge his brothers from whatever “helpful” task they’d assigned themselves.
“You want us to go check on your uncles?” Mr. John asked, the little bell over the diner door tinkling softly as it closed behind them. “Make sure your dad’s holding his own?”
“ Da can handle his brothers,” Niamh said.
Mr. John raised his eyebrows as Dr. Kaidan laughed. Dropping an arm across Dr. Kaidan’s shoulders in return for the arm now wrapped around his waist, Mr. John nodded. “OK, then. We shall leave Caleb O’Connell to his fate.”
Taking his sister’s hand, Tadhg started after his friends. He was pleased that they’d managed to give Da the morning off, and the defense of the Lost Metal Jungle had gone well. Nobody had gotten sick from their milkshakes, and now they were off to - certainly fail at - containing Harbinger the Stubborn.
And whatever time Uncle Coats was supposed to show up in Norman, he’d at least arrived early enough that Mr. John and Dr. Kaidan still got at least some time on the couch on their day off.
The man had been very polite. A little frustrated, but it seemed he’d been wandering through Norman’s neighborhood’s for longer than Jeff would believe possible. A probable feat, despite her boyfriend’s insistence that Norman was too small to get lost in. The streets followed no real logic, and until recently there’d been little in the way of zoning laws.
Until even more recently, there’d been no bar, which was where the man was trying to go.
Perhaps he was meeting someone there. If he’d wanted alcohol, the grocery store sold both beer and wine.
Though she couldn’t condone drinking while wandering angrily around her town.
She’d explained - twice - how to get to the town square from where they were, and even offered to draw him a map. But much like Vakarian before him, this man couldn’t bring himself to accept the idea of needing a small piece of paper to find his way around a town so compact, and had headed off with a weary kind of optimism.
Turning her little truck onto the next street, Edi pulled it to a halt at the bottom of the driveway for Tali’Zorah’s business. She hoped out, grabbing the box and signature pad she needed, and strode around to find the proprietor already waiting for her. “Hello, Tali.”
“Hello, Edi.” Wiping her hands on a rag, Tali nodded at the truck. “Having trouble again? You usually walk unless it’s winter.”
In response, Edi held up a box. “I have more packages than normal today, so I thought I’d save the juggling act for my career in the circus.
Tali laughed and took the signature pad. “You’d be great in the circus - your timing is impeccable.”
Handing the box over, Edi headed back to her truck. She smiled as she heard the familiar Hungarian from their town’s mechanic - the box had been from her brother, whom it appeared was in New Zealand at the moment.
Eric vas Neema had a vivacious personality. It had been no surprise that, given the opportunity, he’d left Norman and only looked back to see his younger sister and adoptive parents. He regularly sent home items he found during his travels for work - trinkets and other small decorative pieces that now cluttered the bookshelves in Tali’s front room, and photos that covered a specific corkboard in Mr. Hackett’s house.
Eric had been responsible for the most interesting post marks that had come through her small branch of the US post office until Mr. O’Connell moved to town.
The friendly local representative of Ireland had yet to receive much in the way of mail - a few smaller pieces that were either cards or letters, a couple of packages, and one very official looking envelope. All with European stamps or codes, and both packages had needed customs forms to make it this far.
It had been an exciting few weeks, as far as Norman’s postal system went.
Spotting a familiar looking mauve catalog sticking out of her bag, Edi allowed herself to frown. There was no point in being so dramatic, but she’d spent more time than made sense redirecting the historical and artistic magazines that several of the residents in Mindoir so loved back to their small town.
And for reasons that eluded even her , the subscriptions kept getting sent to Norman.
She was starting to sympathize with Joker’s search for green plastic cups back in March.
It was both rude and illegal to simply throw away mail that wasn’t hers, but as she liberated this quarter’s issue for Harrot’s Harmonious Histories , she was tempted.
Briefly, but tempted.
Placing it in the bin for mail that had proved undeliverable, Edi started her truck and headed to the next house.
Perhaps she would enlist Joker’s help after all. She couldn’t throw out the misplaced mail, but since following the rules and regulations wasn’t getting her anywhere, perhaps her chaotically inclined boyfriend would know how to get the people of their neighboring hamlet to sort this mess out, once and for all.
Fourth time he reached the center of the small town, he found it. A door propped ajar that hadn’t been the previous three times he’d walked by. A radio screeching out supposed music. Loud laughter booming inside before oozing out to the main street. The slightest burnt stench in the air, a telltale sign of wood cut by a saw with a metal blade.
Reaching the doorway, Coats hesitated before stepping inside. He still couldn’t find any obvious signage for the place, but the construction was a good omen, mostly; a bad one, perhaps, given his current mood and sleep deprivation. It’d been a long flight across a huge Pond, after all.
Rolling his head, he cracked the tension from his neck. While it wouldn’t chase his current mood away completely, it would help enough for him to face whatever waited him inside. That was the hope, anyway.
Yanking the sunglasses off his face, he stepped over the threshold. A bit like the Conqueror crossing the Channel in 1066. The lighting wasn’t nearly so bright inside and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. But it soon became clear he was indeed in the right place. Finally.
“Did that on purpose. Didn’t you, Shannon?”
He pitched his voice loud enough to reach through the entire construction area. To his right, two coppery heads popped up from behind a half wall separating parts of the larger room, matching green eyes bright and shining with mischief as they landed on him.
Coats bit back a groan. Bloody hell…
One of the pair cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Cal!”
To Coats’ left, a door pushed open. “Aye?” A familiar black-haired, blue-eyed man entered the room. As soon as he spotted Coats, his usual wide, engaging smile spread across his face. “ There y’are, Hammersmith! Took you long enough to get here. I was about to organize a rescue team to track y’down!” Coats scowled as his friend’s lips twitched. “Trouble finding the place or were you just taking your own sweet time?”
The scowl deepened as the pieces fell into place. Great. Chakwas must’ve messaged him after I left the house.
A snort from one of the red-headed fools filled the air and a voice thickened with a matching lilt to Caleb’s offered, “He’s English, isn’t he?”
Because, of course, it could never be easy with them around. “Who the bloody hell let you two into the country?”
O’Connell chuckled heartily as he walked over and extended his hand in greeting. “Been asking myself that a week now. Still trying to get an answer.”
Coats took the hand readily enough and shook it, but the scowl remained fixed.
It didn’t put off his friend. Ever patient despite the knowing smirk that flashed, Caleb gestured around the torn up inside of what eventually would be their place of business. “Don’t knock cheap labor, Hammersmith. They’ve got more done in a week than some could complete in twice that long.”
The other redhead grinned and joined in, “Aye. We work for a song.”
“And free beer,” the first one was quick to add.
The twins wandered over, offering their hands in greeting to Coats – he still couldn’t tell which was Alec and which was Iain even after nearly two years. Eventually, beer was handed around and all four men clinked the bottle necks together. “To the Powder & Keg ,” Caleb toasted. “May she be all that we’ve ever wanted and hoped for.”
Coats opened his mouth to add to it, but one of the twins cut him off. “May she live long and prosper!”
Iain… only Iain cuts up like that. At least now Coats could tell them apart. Sort of.
Alec snorted in disbelief and Caleb nearly choked on the sip he’d taken. Coats just shook his head wondering yet again what it was about these crazy Irishmen – all three of them – that kept them friends.
“What the hell d’ya think this is?” Alec demanded as he elbowed his twin in the arm. “Some kind of sci-fi convention?”
Grinning, Iain argued back, “D’ you wanna be back here in a few years rebuilding?”
“Depends. Might be willing t’work for free beer again.”
“There is that.”
While they continued to banter back and forth, Coats leaned in towards Caleb so they wouldn’t hear. “Why the hell do you put up with them?”
Affectionate laughter burst free. “They’re family,” Caleb reasoned. Then more seriously, “And y’know I’m the last person you’ll find complainin’ ‘bout that.”
He had a point. Coats reluctantly grunted his agreement as he took a drink from his bottle. He’d been there when his friend found out he wasn’t the orphan he’d always thought he was. Been at Old Neddy’s in the middle of a darts match when the phone call came, out of the blue, on one of the busiest nights of the week. Had seen the shock slip into disbelief across his face while listening in on Caleb’s end of the conversation then heard the absolute wonder and joy in his voice. Hell, he’d been the one – with help from Ruairí and Saoirse – who made the decision for the pub to close up early that night so Caleb could process the sudden announcement in peace.
Snorting an amused look back at his friend, he muttered just loud enough this time so the other two could hear, “Still say Customs should’ve slammed the door in their faces when they exited the plane.”
“They let the likes of you in, didn’t they?” Alec countered before crossing back to the wall he’d been working on. Iain followed after him.
Only when they were out of earshot did Coats ask, “And, Christ! How the hell do you tell the two of them apart?”
Caleb shrugged as he finished his bottle and set it aside. Coats did the same and followed him towards the back of the building. “They both answer to the same name,” he replied at the door and grinned back at the twins. “’Sides, Matháir told them to be on their best behavior while they’re here.”
“And not even the devil himself would risk her ire!” Iain shouted after them.
Alec snorted. “The devil might not, but I’ve seen you do it.”
Sighing, Coats muttered, “God help us all…”
Abby waved as Ash pulled out of the parking lot. It was a beautiful day outside and for just a moment, she considered playing hooky. Clear blue skies, a light breeze, temperature just moderate enough to not be summer hot. She chanced a look through the glass clinic doors. There was always a chance she could sneak around back to her car and…
Cyndi’s head popped up over the top of the counter and she smiled widely and waved.
Well, there went that idea. She was honestly surprised by the level of disappointment that gripped her, too. Damn! I must be more in need of a vacation than I thought. Probably Ash’s fault for bringing it up at lunch.
But the thought of walking into her office to read yet another article on the latest and greatest ways of preventing fleas and ticks for the summer was about as exciting as getting her wisdom teeth pulled. At least that had knocked her out for a time.
Yeah, she definitely needed a break. Or, some kind of excitement. Maybe she ought to look into a weekend getaway in New York or Chicago or something. Go to a concert, see a play, go out to a nightclub or three. At least the options there included more than identical ginger twins. Not that she had anything against Caleb’s brothers, of course. They just weren’t her type.
So, what exactly is my type? Dream guy aside, Mr. Right just isn’t here in Norman or the surrounding area.
She bit back a groan and glanced inside again just as Cyndi turned to answer the phone. Darn it, Ash, why’d you have to bring that up today?
She shouldered her purse with a heavy sigh, smoothed out the wrinkles from her skirt and took a deep breath for fortification. Determined to make the best of an otherwise gorgeous afternoon, she turned towards the clinic…until two deep voices, one of which she knew quite well, drifted over from her right.
Saved by the Irish!
With a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun, Abby squinted across the parking lot. Sure enough, heading up the walk from the center of town, she spotted them. Caleb was definitely one of them, but…which one? Two men, both tall, both dark haired, both with a similar build… From this distance, they looked almost identical.
Vaguely, she wondered if Caleb would entertain the idea of dressing like a pirate for Halloween.
Jumping at the chance of continued distraction, she started in their direction and called out, “Thought you were working on opening up a pub in these parts, Irish?”
Both men came to a stop as she joined them. This close in, the differences between them were easier to see, but not by much. Are we sure he doesn’t have another brother?
Caleb grinned widely at her, his usual engaging self. “Right on schedule, Abbs. I promise.”
“Just make sure it is,” she countered. “You’ve got all the citizens of Norman waiting with baited breath for our first bar.”
“Now, darlin’, I’m a man of my word!” He gestured to his companion. “And even if I wasn’t, Hammersmith’d make sure we open right on time.”
Her grin faded to confusion. “Hammersmith?”
The man in question scoffed at Caleb, reached around him and offered his hand. “Ryan Coats, formerly of Hammersmith, London, England,” he explained. “His,” he elbowed Caleb lightly in the ribs, “friend and business partner in all of this.”
England. The man was English.
Was it her imagination, or did her heart rate just skyrocket? Somehow as their eyes met, she managed a smile in return and shook his hand. “Welcome to Norman. Abby Williams.”
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who was surprised. Coats’ gaze darted quickly over to Caleb. The Irishman snorted and shook his head. “Sister.”
Ah . Caleb must have mentioned Ash by name. There ya go, sis. No way you can think he’s not interested now.
As Coats returned his full attention to her, though, Abby suddenly found breathing a challenge. Dread Pirate Roberts or not, Coats’ eyes were like the sea after a storm. She was really going to have to have a long chat with her sister.
Why’d you have to go and bring that up today? Talk about unrealistically raising expectations… But are they really?
Searching for something to say to ease the growing awkwardness of the moment, Abby cleared her throat and said, “Caleb’s told us all about you.”
“Has he, now?”
“I mentioned a business partner,” Caleb clarified.
Their conversation was interrupted by the soft chime of bells. All three looked over to find Cyndi stepping out of the clinic. “Sorry, Dr. Williams, but Mr. Wilson’s on the phone with an urgent question about Muffin.”
Great. Because his calls were always urgent, and of course he would call at the most inconvenient time for her.
“I’ll be there in a minute.” Turning to Caleb and Coats, she spared them both a wry smile. “Guess that means I’ve got to get back to work. Nice meeting you, Mr. Coats.”
He flashed her a smile. “Ryan. Mr. Coats is my dad.”
Did you both go to the same charm school? “Good to know.” Spinning around, she poked Caleb in his upper arm with her index finger. “And you! See what you can do about getting that pub ready and opened early? Please? I swear, I’ll be the first one in line if you do.”
How had she described Caleb to Ash? Cute, clever, kind. Well, he was kind enough to wrap an arm around her shoulders to give her a brief hug as he chuckled and replied, “Aye, I’ll see what I can do.”
She returned the gesture. He really was all of those things. She hoped her sister would recognize it soon.
With a final wave, she left them and headed into the clinic. At the doorway, she paused to glance back at them just in time to find Coats – no, Ryan – smiling in her direction. And then he winked. He was out of sight before her heart started beating again.
“Lord save me from charming Irish and Englishmen,” she muttered under her breath as she crossed the reception area and took the phone from Cyndi. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson. How might I help you this fine afternoon?”