Ashes of Fiery Weather by Kathleen Donohoe Read Free Book Online Page B

McCanns from Kerry! The Delaneys from Roscommon!
    â€œWhere in Ireland was your father’s family from?” Marian asked. “Mine’s from Cavan. That’s the smallest county.”
    Sean shot her a look that Norah couldn’t quite read. But he answered as he filled their next two pints. “Sligo. So my mother always said.”
    â€œAnd she’s a fountain of information,” Eileen called.
    â€œShut up,” Sean said back, but without rancor.
    Eileen laughed. “Up Sligo!” she shouted at the bar in general, getting more than a few shouts back.
    â€œWhat brings you to America?” Sean asked. He set the finished pints in front of her and Marian.
    â€œIt’s a bit of a long story.” Norah handed him a twenty, hoping it was the right bill.
    Sean smiled as he accepted her money, and Norah’s stomach dropped the way it did when she took the subway by herself, certain she would be lost in spite of the careful directions on the folded piece of paper tucked in her pocket.
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    â€œDo you know when you’re getting on the fire department?” Marian asked. “Anna told me you and her brother took the test.”
    â€œNo, no word yet,” Sean said.
    â€œFirefighting is in Sean’s blood,” Amred said. “His grandfather died at a fire.”
    â€œHe had a heart attack at the scene,” Sean said. “Amred likes to make it sound like he jumped out a window with a kid in his arms.”
    â€œHe rescued a woman once who was, ah, expecting,” Amred said. “And a heart attack counts. Firemen are always having heart attacks.”
    â€œSo are old men,” Sean said.
    â€œHe was still fighting fires?” Norah asked.
    â€œHe was a captain. He was outside managing the scene,” Sean said.
    â€œMy father remembers the day he died,” Marian said. “He said the bars around here were all packed. Everyone came out to toast him. Gentleman Jack Keegan.”
    â€œThings were different back then,” Sean said to Norah. “Firemen lived near where they worked, because they weren’t allowed to live on Long Island or anywhere out of the city. The boroughs only.”
    â€œThe neighborhood,” Norah ventured. The neighborhood was something she couldn’t quite get her head around. There were no marked boundaries, no signs, yet everybody seemed to understand where one ended and another began.
    â€œExactly,” Sean said.
    Marian looked down at her clasped hands.
    â€œSean! Come on, man. I’m fucking dying of thirst!” a man shouted from the far end of the bar.
    â€œGood!” he shouted back. He looked at Norah. “Talk to you later?”
    Norah nodded and Sean moved on.
    Norah and Marian took two pints each, and Marian let her take the lead through the crowd. She glanced back and saw Sean angling a glass beneath a tap. Aoife would have gone for him, Norah was sure of it.
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    Irish Dreams was closed on Mondays, since it was open on weekends. Norah tried to think of things to take her out of the apartment on Mondays, to give her aunt a few hours alone. Norah went to the library or on idle walks through Prospect Park. Once she’d made the mistake of accepting an invitation to go to the movies with Marian, but when she went by Marian’s to call for her, the grandmother wasn’t feeling well, or said she wasn’t. They ended up spending an incredibly dull afternoon playing rummy with the old lady, who cheated.
    The Monday after St. Patrick’s Day, late in the afternoon, Norah arrived back at Helen’s and immediately sensed her aunt’s disappointment. So Norah asked if she could go into the office. There she could use a typewriter to write a letter home. They’d all be impressed. Helen gave her the keys eagerly, but as soon as they were out of her hand, she seemed to regret it. Three times she told Norah to be sure to lock the door when she left.
    Norah did owe