Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Shan moved on to his son and daughter-in-law, and I spent the next twenty minutes listening to Irish punk rock and watching Alfie come alive. When Colm left the stage, someone else took over.
I stopped drinking.
I’d had three beers and two shots, and nothing was happening. It wasn’t my night. I felt warm and somewhat at ease, but I wasn’t feeling that intoxication I’d aimed for. So I stuck to water, and I started doing the math. Could I drive in a few hours? I wasn’t sure. Perhaps if I ate something…
“It’s time!” the guy onstage declared. “Who will answer Ireland’s call?!”
“The Sons of Munster!” the crowd roared.
Jesus Christ.
Emilia cheered and exchanged a hard kiss with Finnegan before he made his way to the stage.
Liam and someone I didn’t recognize followed, and fuck me if Alfie didn’t too. He was getting up there with the others.
“This is gonna be amazing!” Emilia gushed.
Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped drinking?
Oh, fuck it.
I downed two shots of vodka in quick succession and hoped for the best.
They made room for a keyboard on the stage, and Liam grabbed the mic.
“Tonight’s a bit different from last month,” he said. Then he draped an arm around Alfie’s shoulders, and I went rigid. “Ye see, tonight, we welcome me little brother to the family.”
“At long fuckin’ last!” Kellan whistled sharply and applauded with the rest.
Dread crept up my spine at the same time as the happiness on Alfie’s face couldn’t be clearer. He didn’t shy away or get embarrassed. He stood tall, grinned widely, and accepted the cheers.
“What can we say about Alfie O’Dwyer, boss?” Liam turned to Finn. “We know he’s a good lad with a bleeding heart, and he wants to keep his hands clean.” That was followed by a wink at the crowd, who cracked up. “We don’t know if he’s alone. Because who fuckin’ knows how many bastards me old man’s got hidden away.” More laughter, even from Alfie and Finn. “And now, let’s find out if the fucker can sing!”
Alfie O’Dwyer. The Sons of Munster.
Was this Alfie’s version of keeping a low profile? Because everyone knew him now.
I found it impossible to believe he wasn’t going to be on the radar of the local police and the FBI within weeks.
Finnegan, Liam, Alfie, and the guy I didn’t know the name of formed a row in front of the microphone, and the music started out calmly, not to mention hauntingly beautiful. Keyboard and tin whistle—plus three men trying to get into a more serious mind-set, which couldn’t be easy after half a dozen drinks each. Finnegan, though. Christ, I never would’ve imagined how talented he was.
The rest of the musicians filled in, along with a track that was prerecorded, and Liam leaned closer to the mic. However, Alfie picked that moment to make himself heard.
“Shut the fuck up! I’ve practiced in the car all day!”
Everyone cracked up, and Liam had to kill his chuckles before he sang the first verse.
I took a deep breath, unable to deny he was very good. The lyrics struck me hard, most of all. He sang of men standing side by side, like brothers, always united, and ready to fight for Ireland.
By the first chorus, the whole pub was taking part by singing along with their glasses raised. Shoulder to shoulder, they were going to answer Ireland’s call. The men on stage stood shoulder to shoulder too, arms around each other, with Finn as the exception as he played the whistle.
The guy whose name I didn’t know belonged at the damn opera. His voice gave me chills, and then Alfie followed. One part humor, one part heart. It was so him. I recognized him—that was the man I’d fallen in love with, the man I’d married. The man who sang about following a guiding star and meeting his destiny.
My eyes suddenly stung, and I had to push back foolish emotions.
Never before had I been so goddamn conflicted about pretty much everything in my life, but one thing was clear. I had to stop thinking I didn’t know him. I knew him so fucking well, because I knew his core. I knew his heart.
The men cranked it up on all fronts and raised the roof with cheers and people singing along. And the lyrics went on repeat in my brain. It was all Ireland, brotherhood, and unity.
This was Alfie and everything he’d longed for.
I knew him, and yet…he was heading in a direction that made me feel like he was slipping through my fingers. Despite that I’d lost him two years ago. Or before then.
“You can belong to more than one world, West.”
I wasn’t so sure. Alfie and I had tried, and it’d wrecked us both.
Now, though, Alfie was moving on. He was healing.
I shouldn’t have come here tonight. My head was too fucked to take in another realization, and every emotion was drenched in my bitterness because I was unable to fall out of love with him. If I hadn’t missed him so much, loved him so much, then maybe I would’ve been happy for him, because God…he was finally finding his way.