Page 28 of Down on Luck


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“Oh come on, ye really tryin’ ta tell us ye haven’t been to any wild Hollywood wrap parties?” Liam chided.

“I’m only on one show which hasn’t wrapped yet,” I admitted.

“What the heck have ye been doin’ t’en?” Liam asked.

“Workin’ mostly,” I confessed.

“Serious?” Noel asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Unfortunately.”

“Please at least tell me ye’ve been wit’ some hot American girls.”

“He’s got a girlfriend,” Eoin blurted.

“Had,” I corrected.

“Ah, still, don’t mean ye canna have some fun, right?” Liam asked rhetorically.

It was still a while until evening so we went home first. I was not quite really for what awaited me

“Gavin!” Mum cried, taking me in her enveloping embrace like I’d been gone for years, not months.

“Hey ma,” I wheezed.

She put me out at arms length and carefully examined my nose.

“What are ye doin’?” I asked.

“Lookin’ for the cocaine.”

“I’m not-”

“Oh, come now! Hollywood is drowning in the stuff as well as STDs. Please tell me ye’re at least bein’ careful!”

The fact was I hadn’t been. Doing coke or being careful. I’d had sex with Maggie without a condom but she also didn’t seem much like a Hollywood type either.

“Both of which I could just as easily get on Church Street,” I pointed out.

“Away wit’ you now, ye cheeky git” she said, gently pushing me toward the door.

“Yes mum,” I said, going back to my gang of brothers.

After a surprisingly hearty supper, mostly courtesy of Liam’s new job at the butcher’s, we bundled clown car style into Noels ancient VW Bug and headed for the city centre to see what trouble we could get into.

The first spot we hit was an actual pub near the grand canal. One of the last in the area not to be franchised, maintaining some of its character. As such it tended to be pretty packed, even on a weekday night. We were on our way to the bar counter when I was removed from the group of bot’ers from the side and kissed rather enthusiastically.

“Patty?” I asked, managing to pull away and get a look at my assailant, who had gone at me so relentlessly with her tongue.

“Well, t’at’s a fine howdy do!” she said, thumping me playfully on the chest.

I had known Patty McKinnon since we were kids. We had dated for a while when we were younger despite the slight age gap. She was eighteen and I was twenty five. It hadn’t ended well, though we had stayed friends even though Patty still seemed to labor under the impression that we were still together. Despite the fact we had broken up four years ago when her dad chased me from their house with a shotgun when he’d found out who my dad was. I no longer loved her, if I ever had, though I would always hold a particular affection for her, like a little sister.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit surprised ta see ye,” I said.

“So were most folk I guess. I actually wasn’t supposed ta come out, but I did anyway. Just figured if I don’t drink to much I’ll be fine for tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you in grad school now?”

“Aye, over at Trinity.”

“Congratulations!”

“T’anks.

“ ‘Tis arse bustin’ work but wort’ it. Da profs are surprisingly cool.”

We hung out with Patty most of the night, her following us from pub to pub, not that we minded to much. Despite our history, she was pretty much one of the boys. Though her’s was not the first bit of female attention I would get. Everywhere we went I’d get a welcome from those I knew and there was always some woman or other who expressed their interest, some more subtly than others. None of them were as hot as Maggie I just wanted to be with her but knew I had to focus on myself and my family. I didn’t want to do anything with any other girls, no matter how keen they seemed. I was determined win Maggie back and get what was mine. As soon as I dealt with my family issues.

Chapter Sixteen

Maggie

I could hear the drums from blocks away. The beaters really giving it their all. I tried to pay attention as the floats and marchers went by but it was difficult to see being nearly six inches shorter than anyone else there.

“I’d put you on my shoulders but I’m not sure that would work,” Darcy said.

“No, probably not,” I agreed.

It really only reminded me of how much I hated St. Patrick’s Day because of how crowded it got. Not to mention how drunk most of the people were. Toasting a St. Most of them didn’t worship on a holiday that had largely become an excuse for public drunkenness. I wasn’t particularly religious but it still rubbed me up the wrong way. Particularly considering what St. Patrick was famous for the “snakes” in question actually being indigenous pagans, who were given the choice of converting, leaving or dying by the forces of militant Catholicism. Even as a de facto atheist it still ticked me off.

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