22. Dee
CHAPTER 22
Dee
T wo days after St. Paddy’s Day, on a quiet regular afternoon, when the fire was crackling in the hearth, a few of the regulars were nursing their pints, Jax was at a table working on his laptop, and Ronan was complaining about how the oven had turned against him—Geraldine Culkin stormed in.
Her face was red. Her hair was sticking out in every direction like she’d been caught in a windstorm.
“Deirdre Gallagher!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the pub like a battle cry.
Every head turned, and I sighed, setting down the glass I’d been drying. “Geraldine.”
“I told you this was going to happen, didn’t I?”
“What’s this about then, Geraldine?” I asked patiently. The woman was prone to hysterics, and I’d somehow been appointed the Mayor of Ballybeg to solve every problem Geraldine had.
“It’s that blasted snake of Seamus O’Shea’s!” She stormed up to the bar. “It’s loose! Loose ! And now my sweet Poppy is missing!”
There was pin-drop silence for a long moment until Liam Murphy, who was perched on his usual stool near the end of the bar, let out a wheezing laugh. “Poppy? That yappy little pup of yours? Maybe the snake couldn’t take the noise anymore and ran off to find some peace.”
Geraldine and Seamus were neighbors, and this was a long-running feud. He kept a snake, and she was certain it was going to eat her dog.
Geraldine turned on him, jabbing a finger in Liam’s direction. “Don’t you dare joke about this, Liam Murphy! That snake is a menace, and I’ll bet you anything it’s eaten my Poppy!”
“Geraldine?” came Seamus’s voice as he pushed through the pub’s door, his coat half-buttoned and his cap askew.
“You’re a right eejit, Seamus O’Shea, and I swear to God, if your snake’s eaten my pup, I’ll feed you to it myself,” Geraldine threatened.
“You leave Fergus out of this!” Seamus took his cap off and slapped it down on the bar next to Liam. “My Fergus wouldn’t hurt a fly!”
“Your Fergus is a menace.” Geraldine screeched, whirling on him.
“Your snake has a name?” Jax mused, and I glared at him to shut the feck up. He winked at me, obviously enjoying the show.
“Of course he does!” Seamus puffed up his chest like he was defending the honor of a national treasure. “And I’ll have you know, Jax, Fergus is a vegetarian. He wouldn’t touch her precious Poppy.”
“Vegetarian?” Geraldine repeated, her voice climbing several octaves. “He’s a boa constrictor, Seamus! What’s he eating, then? Carrots? A nice leafy salad?”
“Fruits and veggies, mostly,” Seamus replied indignantly. “He’s very partial to bananas.”
“You’re a gobshite.” Geraldine’s eyes narrowed like she was debating whether to throttle him or have him committed.
By this point, the entire pub that was watching the spectacle was trying—and failing—to stifle their laughter. Even Ronan had emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel and grinning as if he’d just found front-row seats to the best show in town.
“Seamus”—I pinched the bridge of my nose—“please tell me Fergus is actually in his tank where he’s supposed to be.”
“Well,” Seamus began, rubbing the back of his neck, “he was in his tank this morning. But, uh, it seems he’s gotten out again.”
I groaned, leaning forward to rest my forehead against the bar, and banged it a couple of times. “Of course, he has. Why wouldn’t he?”
“This is unacceptable!” Geraldine shouted, her fists clenched at her sides. “You can’t just let a snake roam the village willy-nilly, Seamus! What if he has eaten Poppy? What if he’s lurking in someone’s garden, waiting to pounce?”
“Fergus doesn’t pounce,” Seamus shot back, clearly offended. “He’s a very gentle snake. And I told you, he’s a vegetarian!”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” I slammed my palm on the bar to get their attention. “Enough! Geraldine, sit down. Seamus, go look for your snake. And if I hear one more word about Fergus being a vegetarian, I swear I’ll lock you in the tank with him.”
Seamus looked contrite. “He eats rats,” he said demurely, “but the rats are vegetarian?”
“Go.” I pointed to the door.
Seamus retreated as the pub erupted into laughter…and then fell silent when Geraldine let her glance fall on each one of them, daring them to do so much as snicker.
Jax came up to the bar. “You’ve got a way with people, darlin’.”
“Do I?
“Like a drill sergeant crossed with a saint.”
Now I had to laugh. “Don’t start,” I warned, giving him a look before turning back to Geraldine. “When was the last time you saw Poppy?”
“This morning.” Her voice trembled with worry. “She was in the garden, barking at the hedges like usual. And then she just…vanished.”
“She probably wandered off to terrorize someone else’s garden.” I tried to sound reassuring. “Poppy’s got more energy than sense. She’ll turn up.”
“And Fergus?” Geraldine asked.
“He’ll find him,” Liam Murphy assured her, though his tone was less confident than I would’ve liked.
“He’s probably hiding somewhere warm,” Liam Ryan, who was playing cards by himself at a table, suggested. “He doesn’t like the cold, you know.”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. While Seamus is running around looking for his feckin’ snake, Jax, can you take Geraldine and search the village for Poppy? And if either of you finds Fergus before Seamus does, please— please —don’t bring him into the pub.”
“Why not?” Jax asked, looking amused. “I think a snake will liven this place up.”
“Because the last time Fergus was here, half the pub cleared out, and the other half got so sloshed they started trying to teach him tricks like a bloody circus act.”
Ronan snorted, muttering, “Best night we’d had in weeks.”
“You’re not helping,” I shot back.
“Now, you gonna help me with my snake-versus-puppy crisis or not?” I demanded.
“Darlin’, how can I say no to that?” he asked, a grin tugging at his lips. “Come on, Geraldine, let’s find Poppy.”
I sighed once Jax had led the half-hysterical woman out of the pub, flirting outrageously with her.
Saoirse came in five minutes later to start her shift. She looked around at how everyone seemed off-kilter and asked, “What’s up?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” I retorted dryly. “Just another day in Ballybeg.”
“Geraldine and Seamus were here,” Liam Murphy supplied, raising his pint.
Saoirse groaned. “Not again!”
“We got a missing snake and a missing dog,” Ronan smirked. “Jax is with Geraldine and Seamus…he’s on his own.”
“If they find the snake, they can’t bring it here,” Saoirse immediately said, shuddering.
“Already told them that,” I assured her.
It took a good hour before Jax came back through the door. Geraldine was right behind him, clutching her little Poppy like she’d found the Ark of the Covenant.
“Found her,” Jax announced as Geraldine pushed past him, beaming like she’d just won the lottery.
“Where was she?” I braced for whatever ridiculous answer was coming.
“In the church,” Jax replied, barely holding back a laugh as he came behind the bar.
“What?” I blinked.
“Yeah, barking at the holy water like it owed her money.” He wrapped an arm around me, dropping a casual kiss on my lips like this was how we did things. It felt a bit too good. In fact, so good that I had to resist the urge to push him away.
“She has an excellent sense of judgment,” Geraldine sniffed, cuddling Poppy like the poor thing hadn’t been causing chaos all morning.
I filled up a bowl of water and handed it to Geraldine. She sat with Poppy on her lap and held the bowl to the dog, who lapped at it, looking mighty pleased with herself.
“Poor sweet girl, you must’ve been so frightened,” she cooed as Poppy barked proudly.
“And the snake?” I asked, glancing at Jax.
“That’s the other part of the story.” His grin widened. “Guess where Fergus was hiding?”
“Oh, feckin’ hell,” Liam Murphy muttered, leaning on the bar. “Where?”
Jax gestured toward Seamus, who burst in just then, red-faced and panting, holding Fergus like a proud father holding his firstborn. The snake was draped around his shoulders, calm as could be.
“In my feckin’ oven,” Seamus announced triumphantly.
The pub went silent for a split second, and then the laughter that followed nearly shook the walls.
“In your oven?” Liam Ryan shook his head in disgust or despair—I wasn’t sure which.
“Aye!” Seamus puffed his chest out like he’d just discovered America. “Snug as could be, wrapped up near the pilot light.” He looked at Fergus lovingly and scratched his head like the snake was a dog. “He likes the heat, don’t ya, boy?”
“Seamus O’Shea, get that thing out of my pub,” I said as calmly and clearly as I could.
“Ah, come on, Dee, you can’t?—”
“Out of the pub,” Saoirse cried out, running to the far end of the pub, away from Seamus and his feckin’ snake.
“Get him away from us.” Geraldine held onto a growling Poppy as tightly as she could.
I groaned, rubbing my temples.
“Jesus Christ,” Liam Murphy muttered. “That snake’s got more sense than you, Seamus.”
The snake wiggled and almost slipped away.
Saoirse climbed on top of a table. “Seamus, you let that snake out of your hands, and I swear on everything holy, I’ll get Ronan’s butcher knife and?—”
That was when Fergus did get away, and there was a lot of yelling and screaming and standing on tables until Seamus got the offending reptile.
Jax had his head on my shoulder, his body quaking with laughter.
“And don’t you bring Fergus anywhere near my pub again, Seamus!” I barked as he was leaving. “I don’t care if he’s vegetarian, carnivorous, or feckin’ allergic to fresh air—keep him in his tank!”
Seamus grinned sheepishly but didn’t argue. “Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll lock him up safe and sound.”
“Do it now,” I pointed to the door. “I’ll even buy you a pint next time if you get out of here quickly.”
Seamus turned, cradling Fergus like a baby, and headed for the door. “Come on, lad. Let’s get you home before you scare anyone else.”
Geraldine, still holding Poppy like a trophy, glared after him. “You’d better, Seamus O’Shea, or I’ll be calling the garda next time!”
The door swung shut behind him, and I let out a long breath, leaning against the bar.
Jax picked up a bottle of whiskey and poured some into a glass. “Saoirse?”
She came down from the table, looking around as if another snake would emerge any second.
She came to the bar, took the glass from Jax, and downed the liquid like a shot. She gasped as it probably burned her esophagus. “Damn Seamus.”
“That was…something.” Jax’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Another day in paradise.” I picked up my rag and wiped the counter like the last twenty minutes hadn’t just happened.
Jax chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Darlin’, I don’t know how you do it.”
“I have a very high tolerance for eejits.” I gave him a pointed look.
He grinned, raising the glass of whiskey he’d poured for himself. “Cheers to that, then.” He leaned against the bar and looked at me. “And here I thought small towns were supposed to be boring.”
That’s probably what all those developers thought—that we were boring and useless. So why not just raze everything and put up a parking lot or some fancy bar where the drinks cost a fortune and have ridiculous names like Sex on the Beach ?
“Hey.” He lifted my chin.
I shook my head and tried to clear my head of sad and bitter thoughts. “Stick around,” I said through a constricted throat. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“I plan to, darlin’ Dee.”