Page 83 of Blame it on the Bet
This last part makes me do a snort/scoff/laugh combo. “He did warn me, you know. He told me from the very beginning that he always gets what he wants. I should have listened.”
“Yeah, well, take it from someone who knows, what they say and who they are can be two totally different things. I swear, I think God broke the mold after Pops. What happened to all the men like him? The men who put family above everything and everyone else?”
There’s no right answer to that question, so it just hangs there. I scoot over and pat the mattress next to me, inviting Jameson to come and sit. She does, and I lean my head on her shoulder.
“I don’t think we made it,” I say softly.
“You don’t know that. Walker was going to get the final report from the Fund My Goal website and bring it over to Wally this morning. He said he’d have the numbers tallied for us by about ten.”
“He said it was going to be tight,” I remind her. “Tight, but not impossible.”
“Stop it, James. We need to look at this realistically. There’s an excellent chance that there won’t be an O’Halloran’s Pub for much longer.”
“Hennessy V.S. O’Halloran, what did Pops teach us?” my sister demands with an expectant glare.
“It ain’t over till it’s over,” I whisper unenthusiastically. “That’s right. Now get your butt out of that bed and take a shower.”
I do as I’m told, trying hard to cry softly enough that she can’t hear me outside of the shower.
…
The sad resignation in Wally’s eyes tells me everything I need to know before he says a word. I just nod slowly and fight back the tears that I feel trying to escape past my rapidly blinking eyelids.
No. I will not do this. I will not fall apart. Not now. Not after all of this.
“I’m so sorry, Henny,” he says gently. “Even with the Fund My Goal website, it just wasn’t quite enough.”
I nod and plaster a polite smile to my face. “Okay. Okay.
Thank you, Wally. Thanks for everything.”
I turn and walk back out into the lobby where I find the expectant faces of my sisters waiting for me. One glance at me and the expectation crumbles, and we’re all standing in the First National Bank of Mayhem, crying our eyes out for all that we have lost.
After a few very long, very wet minutes, I sniffle, wipe my face with my hands and stand up straight.
“Okay, well, as Pops would say, ‘it is what it is.’ And, as Father Romance would say, ‘the Lord’s will be done.’ So, I guess this is what was meant to happen, for whatever reason. But I’ll tell you something…” I take a deep breath and sweep the circle of their eyes, one by one. “I wouldn’t trade these last weeks for the world. I’ve never felt closer to all of you. And, in the end, I think that’s what Mama and Pops would’ve wanted.”
Some nodding and renewed tears.
“Are you going to go back home?” Walker asks.
For a split second I’m confused, and I’m about to tell her I am home when I realize she means home to my old life. God, is it possible it’s only been a month and a half since I left? It feels like another lifetime ago. But, without a business to manage here, there’s no reason not to go back. I guess.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Yeah, I’ll be going back home. For a while, anyway. I have some loose ends to tie up.”
“Don’t.” The single word from Jameson is packed with more emotion than I’d have thought possible.
“James…”
“No,” she insists, shaking her head. “Don’t leave us. Stay here in Mayhem. Open your own practice. We need you here. You can come live with me.”
“Or with us,” Bailey chirps.
“I promise I’ll think about it. But that’ll have to wait because we’ve got a wake to plan.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
BRYAN
