GERRY KENNEDY
 
Well at first I thought ten dollars would be too much. Admission, I’m talking about. For the Easter benefit concert for the Biebes. But when I’d asked around a little, most people said they’d be happy to pay that amount, and more still if necessary. The Biebes are part of Stowe, and so is the Inn. They provide a lot of business for the town and they’re well-loved. I heard more than one punter say that they’d put in more money if I’d put a bowl up on the bar for donations. Plus, more than one punter said he wouldn’t mind John Biebe for Mayor, if he would get his act together and start campaigning for the office. The sooner the Inn is up and running again, the sooner that can happen, eh?

I’ve been to see Jackie a couple of times over at the Aubreys; she seemed to be getting on fabulously with the good sea captain now that they were practicing for the gig together. He’s a bit of an odd one, but he does play a tight fiddle. And she seemed to be happy to see me as far as I could tell; she agreed to go out to dinner with me before the concert straight away when I asked. Ha, bloody ha; I haven’t forgotten how Skinner was planning to do just that when we were supposed to have her playing at the pub the weekend of the fire at the Inn. Seems like I got in there before him now eh?

I don’t really know what happened to him actually, but he seems to be off the scene altogether, which is good. Enter the Kennedy factor. She looked fantastic when I picked her up and we had the coziest drive over to the eatery I’d picked for the occasion. None too shabby it was, too, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her in her black dress that looked like it was poured on her and left to dry. What is it with candle light? I mean Jackie’s a looker by any standard, but sitting there with her at that table, candles flickering, she looked good enough to eat. 

She seemed a bit nervous though, or so I thought. Had to be performance jitters; she didn’t say all that much and once or twice I caught her staring out the window with an expression on her face that cheap romance novelists would no doubt call wistful. But then she caught herself and she smiled at me so sweetly I was sure I’d get lucky that night.

Okay, so the dinner had to end some point, although I’d have happily stared into her eyes a couple hours longer, but we had some work to do. So I drove her to the pub and did the gentlemanly thing; I walked around the car and opened the door for her. That didn’t really have the effect I was hoping for; for an instant I saw that wistful look returning.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart; you’ll be brilliant tonight,” I murmured in her ear, and before she could stop me, I pulled her close and planted one on her. Right on the lips, which were all soft and inviting and wonderful. She didn’t pull back, which was a good sign. She even leaned against me a little. Better still. But it didn’t go any further. No good long wet snog, which was of course what I’d been aiming for. She simply put a gentle hand on my chest, indicating that she wanted to say something, and when I’d removed my lips from hers so she could get out whatever was on her mind.

All she said was, “Thanks Gerry for a lovely dinner, but maybe we should get in? Look, there’s Jack’s car, I’m sure he must be ins…”

And there she faltered. She’d pointed across the road to the Aubrey’s care sure enough, but right next to it sat that silver Porsche poof mobile that Skinner drives around in. And its owner stood right beside it on the curb, staring in our direction like he’d seen a ghost.

“Hi, Skinner,” I called out across the street. “Coming in for the benefit are you?” Yeah okay that’s probably a bit cheeky, I know. But hey, here I was with the girl, and he’d seen the lip action, I was sure of it. Sod him. I win.

Once inside, the place was pretty packed already, and my staff informed me that the donations bowl was filling up rapidly, on top of the admission fee. We’d make a whopper for the Biebes! I quickly ducked behind the bar and got Jackie one of her favourite apple juices while she discussed songs with Jack Aubrey, who looked very clean (in a shipshape sort of manner) in his white shirt and ironed jeans. He also looked a little green around the gills. I didn’t think the Captain did nervous. But he certainly was now. I gave him a double whiskey, which he knocked back in one go. Good lad.

And then, in walked Skinner. He seemed to have rallied his spirits; he waded directly over to the bar, ordered a pint and with precise, measured moves, extracted a fancy checkbook from his pocket. And a fountain pen. A Mont Blanc, if my eyes didn’t deceive me. Only the best for posh Skinner, I reckon. He parked himself right behind Jack’s broad back, glanced over at Jackie, screwed the top off his pen and wrote out a check. Blew on it until the ink was dry then dropped it in the bowl with a practiced nonchalance that was probably aimed at me. I think. I dunno, maybe I’m just sensitive to competition. Anyway, when he turned his back and surveyed the room, I fished out the check and heard my jaw drop to the floor with an audible clatter.

Ten thousand dollars. That’s what that posh git was donating.

MAXI

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw them kissing like that right in front of the pub. I knew he’d asked her out to dine with him, Jackie told me so herself when I spoke to her last week.

It took me a long time to come up with a good reason to call on the Aubreys, but when I ran into Antony in town a few days earlier and he remarked upon Jack Aubrey’s new horse, I knew I had found my reason.

Jack was gracious about it, all smiles and old England and port wine (can’t stand the bloody stuff, way too sweet for me), and he took me to the stables straight away. The beast was magnificent indeed, not that I’m any judge of horses, but I ooh’d and aah’d and rubbed the monster’s nose for good measure.

“Now, as to the true reason for your visit,” Jack Aubrey said. Straight at ‘em, that’s Jack to a tee. Bloody hell.

“You don’t give quarter, do you Jack?”

“I do not. I would like to impart to you my strong suspicion that Riley’s young friend staying with us has more to do with your sudden equine interest than, well …” He cleared his throat discreetly and glanced meaningfully in my direction. “Listen, Maximilian, my man, you have the weather gauge. I am without a doubt. Why have you not telephoned her?”

I shrugged. “Didn’t know what to say I reckon. Sort of nobbish of me, I know, but I just … well you know?” I wilted a little under that icy blue stare. He was right though.

“A gentleman should know better. And I had always pegged you for one, Skinner, unless the unthinkable has happened and you have fallen for her. Have you? Have you?” Jack had a delighted glint in his eye that frightened me to no end. “What say you and I go back in,” he continued, “and I tactically leave you alone in my study, then find some sort of manner in which to direct Jackie to that sameself room. Hmm … Perhaps my wife would bear a hand here. In any case, once everyone is in position, it’s let fly on the uproll and every man for himself.” Jack laughed his hearty laugh, I found I simply had no way to change his mind, and so shortly after, while I was idly perusing an atlas in Jack’s study, in burst Jackie.

“Maxi!” she gasped and she looked like she wanted to run out again.

“Hi, um, I was …” I managed, stepping closer. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks, I can’t talk around that woman.

“I, eh, heard you were away on a … business trip?” she asked, looking at the floor then back up at me. She looked as insecure as I felt. “Will you come to the benefit concert Jack and I are doing? At Gerry’s pub?”

“Yes I was, and yes of course I’ll be there. Hm … you sound like you and that Kennedy chap have become very close in the past couple of weeks, the way you say his name.” Shit, shit, this wasn’t going right. I sounded like a jealous school girl. Fuck it, I felt like a jealous school girl.

“Oh, um, well, I … He’s been over a few times, you know, to talk about the concert, organize things, stuff …” Her voice trailed, and then she softly added, “he’s asked me out to dinner before the concert … I said okay, um …” she gave me a glance that I interpreted as slightly apologetic, although that may have been wishful thinking.

“Right,” I heard myself say, my face hardening and my heart going liquid in misery. “That’s it then I suppose.” And I walked to the door.

“What do you mean, Maxi?”

I turned. “Good luck with him, Jackie, is all I can say. Good luck with Gerry Kennedy.”
And I left. Bowed out gracefully, or at least, I tried.

That was three days ago. Three days of bloody agony and three nights without sleep. And then when I drove up I saw them kissing. Can’t bloody believe it. Stupid fuckin’ bollockin’ me, bloody hell, I could kick myself.

So I stood there like an idiot for a time, until I finally shook myself out of it and went inside. Paid the fee then walked right up to the bar where Jackie and Jack Aubrey stood talking music. Jack acknowledged me with a barely perceptible nod but Jackie pointedly ignored me. And perhaps she had every right to do so, I mean, at the time I believed I was bowing out gracefully but I have been going over and over our last exchange in my mind and I can only cringe now at my own behavior.

Wrote out a generous check to the Biebes. They deserve it. Especially Riley, and with another little one on the way and all. And then the concert started.

First, Jack played some classical tunes, minuets and the like. Boccherini, Corelli, that sort of stuff. He looked uncomfortable at first, but after a while he got right into it. He closed his eyes and he started to grin. At times like that I feel sorry I don’t play anything. It comes across as a strange sort of bliss to be able to express oneself that way.

After a while, Jackie climbed on as well, and everyone who’d seen her play at the pub before cheered her on. Me included. She looked up, right at me, and gave me a dazzling smile when she saw me applauding her. Shite. Struck me like a bolt of lightning, that smile. And throughout the rest of the show, I stood rooted to the spot, eyes glued to the stage, clapping like a madman after every song.

When it was all over, the spell was broken and I suddenly found myself gasping for a fag, and some room to move. So I elbowed my way out and stood in the street, looking at the clear night sky, trying to hold one coherent thought in my mind.

“Can I nick a fag off you?” A soft voice behind me. I whipped around and there she was, looking frail and cold. I shrugged off my coat and hung it around her shoulders, then proffered a cigarette and lit it.

“I had no idea you smoked,” I mumbled stupidly.

“Only when I’m stressed out,” she replied on a gentle plume of smoke.

I stayed close and when she finished her smoke, I adjusted my cashmere coat around her. She dipped her head like she wanted to put it on my shoulder; I wrapped an arm around her and accommodated. It felt so good, standing there, even if I was freezing my balls off. I added another arm after some time and pulled her against my chest in as big a bear hug as I could provide. Stuck my nose in her hair. Felt her move against my chest, nudge my chin. And then, all of a sudden, we were kissing, kissing for real, kissing just like we were the last time. That had been out in the street as well. I grinned into it and pulled her even closer.

“Want to come see my house?” I whispered in her ear. “It’s finished. I’d like to have a housewarming party soon. Will you come and bring your guitar?”

“I’ll need to test the acoustics,” she husked.

“Yes.”

“Want to do that now?”

“Yes.”

And with that, we got in the car and we drove off.

SAMANTHA

Thursday morning. Egan picked me up at eleven AM as promised, dressed casually in what looked like a new pair of jeans and a red cable knit sweater. It was obvious that he’d just taken a shower not long before; the ends of his hair were still damp in back and he had that unmistakable scent of freshly scrubbed man. I wished our friendship were the kind where hugs were freely given in greeting, because I had an almost uncontrollable urge to bury my nose in the hollow of his neck and take a deep whiff of his skin. I felt my toes curl just at the thought of it.

His eyes were sparkling and he seemed a little awkward as he stood on my doorstep, shifting his weight from one leg to another. “You still up for an afternoon of house huntin’?”

To be honest, he could have asked me if I wanted to help him scrub the toilet in the jail’s holding tank and I would have still stood there grinning and nodding my head like an idiot.

“Are you kidding? I adore house hunting.” So okay, I was lying, but I don’t think he noticed. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something that’ll strike your fancy.”

From back in the kitchen, Bella gave a woof of recognition at the sound of Egan’s voice. I’d placed her in her crate just before I heard him drive up and she was settled in happily with her blanket and several chew toys.

Egan’s eyes stole a quick glance over my shoulder. “How’s Bella doin? Think you’ll be able to let her go if we do find something we like today?”

I’d already fallen in love with the dog, but I’d never keep her from Jacob. I’d been working on improving her manners and she was a quick learner. Already she’d sit on command and roll over, although we were having a bit of an issue with her chewing. I’d already lost a pair of jogging shoes and she’d taken to gnawing on the legs of my kitchen table. But I knew she’d enjoy having a little boy to look after and she’d be well taken care of once Egan found a home to his liking.

“Only if you continue to grant me visitation rights.”

Egan gave me another dimpled grin. “Samantha, you’ll be welcomed anytime.”

I felt my heart flutter and I struggled to keep my composure. Stepping out onto the porch I turned and closed the door behind me, trying to focus my attention on putting my key into the deadbolt lock. “I’ll be sure to always call first.”

I heard what sounded like a chuckle from Egan, but I couldn’t be sure. I had a couple of morning doves that were nesting in the eaves and maybe it was their cooing that I heard instead. 

I trotted down the steps ahead of him, glancing quickly at the sky and thankful that the weather boded well for our adventure. The sound of his heavy boots on the walkway reminded me of his much longer gait and a moment later I felt his hand on the small of my back.

He escorted me to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door. He pressed in closer, his hand still on my back and the scent of his skin sending my hormones into a tingling boil. Down girl, I silently chided.

Egan’s truck is one of those hulking good ol’boy vehicles, where a shorter gal like me has to practically have mountain climbing skills to scale the front seat. He seemed to anticipate this and I felt an unexpected push up on my behind as I reached over to grab the arm rest and pull myself forward. Settling into the seat, he made sure I was tucked in safely before closing the door, and when I caught his eye as he walked around the front of the truck to the driver’s side he gave me a teasing wink.

“All buckled in?” He asked as he effortlessly settled into the seat beside me. I nodded my head and flicked my hair over my shoulders.

“Roger that,” I chirped, suddenly feeling a little silly. Roger that …was I really so wrapped up in my work that I couldn’t speak like a normal person when I was off duty?  I folded my hands in lap and stared ahead. Self-consciously Egan started the engine and the sound of Waylon Jenning’s voice growled softly from the stereo.

“You can change the channel if you like.” He put the truck into gear and pulled out onto the road.

“Oh, this is fine,” I assured him, nodding my head and fighting back the butterflies in my stomach as we headed off up the road. “I like Waylon Jennings.”

Egan chuckled. “You’re a woman after my own heart.”

 Oh God. I’ll be dammed if my toes didn’t curl yet again.

EGAN

I don’t make a habit of tossing women into my truck, but Samantha’s backside has a way of filling out a pair of jeans. I guess men are a lot more like little boys than we like to admit and for a quick moment I caught myself wishing I knew her well enough to be able to take a nice healthy handful of that bum. I could tell by her reaction that while I’d caught her by surprise that I hadn’t offended her sensibilities and thankfully hadn’t crossed some imaginary line of no return. The way she smiled at me as I climbed in seat beside her bolstered my hopes.

I didn’t really expect to find a house my very first day out searching, but I was hopeful that just maybe I’d get lucky. But luck seemed to escape me; by three PM we had looked at four houses; each one worse off than the other. The first house had extensive water damage and a cracked foundation. House number two had a cellar that flooded and I found signs of bad plumbing and termite damage. Number three only resembled a house in that it had four walls and a roof, but it had been vandalized by scrap hunters. The floors and ceilings were torn apart and all the copper wiring and plumbing had been removed. The fourth house and the lot it sat on were simply far too small.

Samantha picked up on my thoughts and as we walked down the cracked, mud encrusted walkway of the fourth house as we made our way back to the truck I was pleased when she slipped her arm through mine. I had the urge to pull her closer and wrap my arm around her shoulder but something stopped me. I wasn’t sure why I suddenly felt a hesitation, but I didn’t want to spoil things by coming on too strong.

“What’ll you say we skip the last house all together and I take you out to an early dinner?”

She squeezed my arm and shook her head. “Finding the right home is kind of like finding the one person to spend your life with; with all the old houses for sale in Stowe, I know the right one is just out there waiting for you and Jacob. Have a little faith.”

We made our way across the street and I opened the passenger side door for her, a little bit disappointed that she no longer needed my help to get inside. I slid in beside her and grabbed the sheet of real estate listings from the dashboard.

“I have faith that I’m getting hungry.”

I felt her hand on my arm. “Come on, don’t give up on your first day! I’m actually having a wonderful time and I’ve a funny feeling that this next house will be perfect.”

I knew she was just tryin’ to make me feel better, but the way she looked at me with her great brown eyes wouldn’t let me say no. “Is this what you do to a bloke when you arrest him?”

She grinned and flipped her hair over her shoulder and I caught myself before I reached out to catch a strand between my fingers.

“Not really. With them I use handcuffs. But we’ve come this far today, so why not look at this last one? I mean, you never know …”

I liked her logic. I slipped the key into the ignition and pulled away from the curb and back onto the road. Something in the air felt like promise.

NATALIE

East for Easter!

Well, maybe not really, but the ‘welcome’ dinner I planned for East happened to fall on Easter Sunday. What initially had been planned as a small party with just the few people staying with us has, with the temporary closure of the Inn, grown into a large family gathering. And … it’s the first time Jack and I will be entertaining in our new home. No pressure, right?

Wrong.

I was in a whirlwind of cleaning, mopping, polishing, a veritable dervish, and any idle set of hands I spied were immediately put to work. And once the house was spotless, I immediately went to work in the kitchen with Riley; she was roasting lamb and making the rice pilaf, and trying to keep ‘velcro boy’ Nathan, who was tightly wrapped around her left leg, from tripping her up. My duties were to prepare the veggies and dessert. Riley doesn’t do dessert. It was a pleasure working with her; it had been so long since we’d had any time together. We fell into our old patterns immediately, and soon I found myself unloading all my concerns about Eddie.

It’s not that he’s a bad kid; he doesn’t do anything wrong. He does everything we ask him to, keeps up with his chores, doesn’t talk back, doesn’t challenge our authority. But … he hasn’t warmed up to us. He keeps himself apart. It’s like he’s going through the motions of being a part of our family, but his heart isn’t in it.

Riley, of course, hit the nail on the head. “Ya gotta think, Nat. Imagine yourself in his place. He’s been in and out of foster homes most of his life. All the people he thought of as parents neglected or abandoned him. It must’ve been hard on the kid, and it’s gonna take some time for him to trust you and Jack.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” I agreed while frosting the cake. “But, can’t we just skip that earning his trust part and get on with it?” I huffed then winked at her.

She threw piece of carrot at me. “Just as impatient as always, right Nat?” She laughed.

I chucked with her and put the finished cake on the side table. I held the spatula with excess icing out to Nathan. “Icing, Nate?” He shook his head violently and hid behind Riley’s knees.

“But, seriously though,” I said as I began to lick the excess frosting Nathan declined, “he has warmed up to Chelsea. He seems to like taking care of her, and of course, she adores anyone who pays attention to her. And East. I noticed he’s starting to follow East around. It’s just Jack and me he seems to have a problem with.”

Riley shrugged. “Well, whether you like it or not, you are the parental units in this equation. You have a lot more authority over him, so naturally it’ll take longer. But, he’ll come around.” She patted my arm. “Patience, honey … sometimes it’s a virtue!”

I scowled. “Yeah, and sometimes it’s a pain in the butt.”

JUBA

Much had transpired and it had taken far longer to close my business in London than expected. There was the warehouse to sell, as the economy had eliminated more than one buyer. There were disappointed clients to appease and of course … a new wife to learn and absorb and cling close to my heart before I could leave. But finally, we are here.

Lili and I deplaned in New York, tired and aching from the long transatlantic flight. It was my plan to take a hotel and show my woman Manhattan before beginning our long adventure across America. I’d told her so much about this country and she too is looking forward to the coast-to-coast drive. Maximus will expect us in two weeks time and we will settle in Sonoma to begin my business anew.

The first stop on our journey is to be The 1876 Manor at Mount Mansfield. Much has been confused lately as both Lili and I have ended cell phone contracts and created new ones, shut down internet connections and eliminated our email addresses for the move. As we climbed into our rental at Kennedy International Airport, I thought to pull out my complicated new cell phone and confirm our room at the Inn.

I was greeted with an ominous recording announcing that all reservations between March thirtieth and April thirtieth have been cancelled due to a fire that destroyed a portion of the old structure. My exhaustion suddenly raged into an adrenalin rush that I recall from my days of battle.

“What is it, love?” Lili asked, her sweet voice tainted with concern.

“There has been trouble in Vermont. The family must be in need of assistance.”

“So,” she pointed to a Starbucks and I swerved the car into the drive through lane. “We get caffeine and we drive to Vermont. It’s Easter Sunday so there shouldn’t be much traffic.”

Awaiting our order, I dialed John Biebe’s cell.

“Yeah, Biebe,” came the answer.

“John, it is Juba.”

“Hey, buddy … oh man, we’ve been trying to reach you for weeks.”

“I understand such, brother. You have had a fire?”

“Yeah. Lots of work but not devastating or anything like that. Of course, if you talk to Riley she’ll say different. We’re mostly shut down because of the wiring. Needs replaced. Lots and lots of wiring.”

“I am on my way, John. My new wife and I offer our assistance.”

“That’s fantastic, man, but I have no clue where to put you. I mean … there’s no room at the Inn.”

“We will sleep anywhere. I intend to be there to help you.”

John was silent for a moment then finally cleared his throat. “I’ll find you someplace to sleep, Juba. Hey … did you say … wife?”

“I did.”

“Then hurry. Call when you reach Stowe and I’ll give you directions to Jack’s farm. We’re all here for a family Easter dinner. We’ll save you some and hey … Juba …”

“Yes, John.”

“Thanks, man.”

“My pleasure.”

RILEY

This is the first major family gathering I haven’t hosted in five years and as nice as it was to be a guest while someone else did the work, I was even more in need of distraction than ever. Nat insisted on handling most of the heavy lifting but did let me do some of the cooking. Anything that could occupy my mind was great. All I kept thinking about was how much money we were losing each day the Inn was closed. Everything we have is invested in the business and our insurance won’t cover so much lost income. So we work and we pray and we do our best to keep our spirits up.

Poor Nathan is going though some changes. Lucky for me, he ignored the terrible twos and remained the sweet kid he always was. But the shy threes were getting on my nerves. He’s suddenly forgone his previous preference for John to cling to me nonstop. It’s normal, but I’m also worried it has something to do with our displacement. He wants his own bed, his own toys and his normal routine.

With my luck, by the time we get back into our own apartment at the Inn, enlarged and as beautiful as it will be, Nathan will go through another culture shock. Poor kid. I do what I can to cuddle him more, but I’ve learned to not wear a dress anymore. He’s always got his pudgy arms wrapped around my legs. Sometimes he decides to do a maypole circle around them and my shirt ends up twisted hopelessly around my waist. John doesn’t mind, but as guests in Jack and Nat’s house, we’re seldom alone to laugh about it. So jeans it is. Even though they’re getting tighter around the middle. Looks like this baby might be bigger than Nathan was. I’m not looking forward to labor if that’s going to be the case. No way Jose.

Dinner was a success and the house was filled with laughter and relatives. We all welcomed East but I couldn’t help but feel he was a sad, lonely man, even amidst a family that loves him so much. I made a mental note to talk with him, make friends or maybe brownies. Chocolate always works when I need to break down John’s defenses.

I watched Eddie and Valerie circle each other like pack animals. Valerie had been the oldest child in the clan until Eddie arrived, a full eight months older. My bet is Valerie will soften and they’ll be great friends. Chelsea seems to be intent on making them just that, forcing herself between them and giving her bubbly attention to each.

The other children were behaving beautifully, especially Ruthie. Now Ruthie was born in her terrible twos and my suspicion is that she’ll stay that way until she’s … oh … thirty? Maybe? What else can you expect from Hando’s seed? But she was the apple of her daddy’s eye and Meredith had a good rein on her when discipline was needed. For some blessed reason, she was polite and quiet today. And pretty as a picture, her blond curls wild like an electrocuted halo around her face.

Just as we were sitting down to dinner, Juba called and offered his help. I thought John was going to cry. We hardly know Juba. What an amazing guy. Antony and Claudia graciously offered to put Juba and his new bride up at their place. Hmmm, a new bride. This should spark a ladies night soon.

Yesterday we got a post card from Kim and Emily. They’ve gone to Hawaii for a vacation. I stood and read the message aloud for all to hear.

Hi everyone! Having a wonderful time, wish you were all here with us. The weather is beautiful and the island is magnificent! I’ve never seen so many flowers and colors in my whole life. Yesterday we went scuba diving and poor Kim was stung by a jellyfish! He’s fine now but a little embarrassed. He said the creature had it out for him and he was never going into the water again, LOL. Bringing gifts for you all. See you on the 17th.
Love,
Emily and Kim

When desert was served Gerry stood and linked a spoon against his coffee cup.

“Everyone, listen up. Ya know we had a little fund raiser to help out with the Inn. Jackie and Jack performed and we had a hopping night at the Corner Pub. Between the take at the door and the donation jar at the bar … a jar I had to empty six times over the evening, I wanted you all to know we raised $23,356.00!”

The table broke out in cheers but John and I just gawked with our mouths open as he handed us the check. I expected a couple hundred dollars, enough to replace a few of Nathan’s toys ruined by the firemen’s hose. Nothing like this!

Gerry raised a hand and shushed the noise. “I do wanna note that $10,000 of that came from Maxi here.”

And now John did have tears in his eyes. So did I. Tears in my eyes and Nathan at my neck and the tiny little Biebe in my belly choosing that moment to do its inaugural flutter.

EAST

I’ve never been one for crowds, always stayed on the edge of a party, observing. Tonight was no different.

They looked old. I couldn’t believe how bloody old they all looked. Does that mean I’m old, too? Guess ‘ya never really think about time passing until you see someone you haven’t seen in a while.

It’d been years since I’d seen most of them. They all had a few more gray hairs, were a bit thicker around the middle. Some I’d never met before; Max Skinner, for instance. Now, there was a bloke I’d not given the time of day to back home. Cocky fuck. But here? Well, he’s family, and on closer inspection seems a decent chap. And the others; Gerry Kennedy, Pullo, Antony. All good blokes. It’s a very strange family, I reckon. But we all pull together when the times call for it. Why, tonight Kennedy brought by a bucket full of cash, donations his customers gave to help with the Inn. And all of us have pitched in these last two weeks; plasterin’, paintin’, doin’ whatever was needed to fix the place up.