Page 57 of Road Trip
The Hooligans played the last notes of “You’ll Never Beat the Irish,” and the lead singer bent down to take a swig from the glass that rested on the floor beside his chair. “We’re gonna take a break and hit the jacks.”
“Nooooo!” Donal yelled, cupping his hand to make a megaphone. “Not ’til you play feckin’ ‘Galway Girl.’”
“Sorry, lad,” the singer said, putting his mike aside, but in the next minute the crowd was standing and chanting.
“‘Galway Girl’! Play ‘Galway Girl’!”
Now Donal climbed atop his barstool, his barrel-shaped body teetering precariously. “‘Galway Girl’!”
“Get down from there, ya fool,” the bartender said sternly. “Before I throw yer ass out the door.”
“Christ,” Liam said, shaking his head. He threw a wad of bills onto the bar and reached for Maeve’s hand. “We’d better leg it out of here before this eejet starts a riot.”
“Donal,” Liam called to his friend. “We’re out.”
“And miss ‘Galway Girl’?” Donal looked incredulous. “It’s the whole reason for coming tonight.” He teetered again, but somehow steadied himself.
Liam began shouldering his way through the crowd, with Maeve in tow. “Bye, Donal,” she called. “Nice to meet you.”
CHAPTER 25
Therese had gone down to the inn’s reception desk and begged the loan of a cell phone adapter from the chilly-faced clerk, who threatened to add a surcharge to their room if it wasn’t returned the next day. She bought a pint of Guinness in the lounge and took it back to the room.
She spent the rest of the evening alternating between trying to do online research on her phone, and sorting and reading Kathleen’s letters to Tommy Connor. At some point she dozed off, only awakening to the soft ping of an incoming text message on her cell phone.
Startled, she scrabbled around on the bed until she found the phone under a stack of the old letters. She peered at the incoming text. It was from an unfamiliar number with a Savannah area code.
Hey Therese. Scott Childress here. Not sure what time it is there in Ireland but love to talk when it’s convenient.
Her fingers raced over the keyboard.
I can talk now.
Her phone rang a minute later.
“That was fast,” she said.
“Hope I’m not interrupting your vacation,” he said.
“Hi, Scotty. Not at all. I’m just doing some family research.”
“That’s great. I tried reaching Maeve first, but didn’t get a response.”
“Believe it or not, my little sister is out on a d-a-t-e tonight.”
“Good for her,” he said.
Huh, Therese thought. She’d always believed Scott Childress had a crush on her little sister, but the news that Maeve had a date didn’t seem to faze him.
“How’s the research going?” he asked. “Find out anything about your mysterious family portrait?”
“We managed to track down a cousin—her dad was my great-grandmother’s only surviving brother. She’d saved all the letters our great-grandmother Kathleen wrote to her father after she left Ireland for the US. And she actually gave them to us. I’ve been sitting in our room all night, reading them. It’s unbelievable, the stuff she went through.”
“I’ll bet,” Scotty said.
“Do you have any news for us?” Therese asked. “About Mom’s house stuff?”
“I’ve got some news, but it’s kinda mixed.”
