Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Patrick wiped down the bar for the umpteenth time, watching the clock for closing time. Molly went home early at his insistence. First the roads were slippery, and second there was so much to get done before tomorrow night.
Usually, they spent Christmas Eve wrapping gifts and snuggled up together on the couch when they finished, but this year everything had to be done before the wedding.
He knew Molly would want to go to the Midnight Mass at Church and that would give them precious little time to finish any last-minute preparations.
He had to laugh thinking about his wife. Molly could tell you basically anything about anybody, but she could never remember where she had hidden all the gifts she bought. It was nothing for Patrick to find gifts in July which Molly hid and forgot about.
The pub was busy, mostly regulars who would come out as long as they were still breathing, and on any other night he would have sat and talked with a few of them, but tonight he just wanted to make it to closing time.
He was tired, having worked extra shifts this week to give his staff time off for shopping, parties and other related events.
At eleven o’clock he poured a cup of coffee, thankful he only had three more hours to go.
Patrick heard them before he saw them. A band of snow covered tipsy people singing Christmas songs and laughing as they staggered through the doorway.
Stomping snow off their feet and brushing each other off, they turned to the bar.
Several elves, three reindeer, Santa and either a helper or Mrs. Claus, he couldn’t be sure, spread out along the bar.
Patrick tried to assess if anyone was sober. He didn’t serve drunks.
“Welcome to The Rose and Thistle,” the littlest one shouted. “This is my brother, Patrick.”
“Bridget, what the devil are you doing here?” Patrick asked, taking in her outfit in shock.
“I’m celebrating the season,” she answered giggling. “These fine people are my co-workers at the North Pole and I would buy them all a drink, if you would loan me the money,” she hiccupped. “I went a little overboard on gifts this year, but you’re gonna love what I bought you.”
Patrick was furious and stumped. If he refused to serve them, Bridget might very well leave with them.
Legally he couldn’t stop her and it could turn into a nasty brawl if any of them put up a fight.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t take them, but it would be very bad for business.
Plastering a smile on his face, he made a suggestion.
“How about a nice cup of Irish coffee to finish off your night and then I’ll call a couple of cabs, on me of course, to get you all home safe and sound?”
“That sure sounds good,” one of the reindeer agreed. “Bridget, your brother is a nice guy,” a female elf added.
The singing resumed as Patrick poured the tiniest drop of whiskey into each cup and filled the rest with strong black coffee. Topped off with whipped cream, they would never notice the absence of booze.
“I’ll have a beer if you don’t mind, Pat,” Bridget stated with another hiccup.
“I do mind and you’ll have coffee,” he told her, his mouth frozen in a tight smile.
Her cup didn’t get any whiskey. Waiting about ten minutes, he called for two cabs and took some money out of the till.
They were still singing in drunken harmony when he shuffled them to the door and the waiting vehicles.
“See you tomorrow, Bridget,” a couple of them called.
“Next year,” she yelled back merrily, taking a break from her song. “I have tomorrow off, remember?”
Walking back inside, Patrick approached his sister wishing by all that was holy that she would grow up and settle down before she gave him prematurely gray hair or a heart attack.
Picking her up by her waist he sat her down hard on the end of the bar and walked around behind it, holding firmly to the wide black belt around her tiny waist. Other than a quick ouch, she went on belting out songs as if her behavior was perfectly normal and acceptable.
He thought about locking her in his office, but if she puked on his desk, he’d have to kill her.
The storeroom was too cold to keep her there for any length of time and if he put her in the kitchen she could sneak out the back door.
Finally, he put a hand on each side of her ass, sliding her down the bar until he could reach the phone.
Waking Nick and Maggie wasn’t exactly a plan, but it was the best idea he could come up with right now.
“Hello.”
“Nick, it’s Pat, did I wake you?”
“No, I was just heading upstairs. What’s up; is anything wrong?” Nick asked concerned.
“Nothing more than normal,” Patrick sighed. “Listen, do you happen to have Del’s number? I need a favor.”
“Ah, I wondered if that was Bridge in the background. She sounds drunk.”
“She is,” Patrick replied with a grimace.
“Want me to come get her and take her home?” Nick offered.
“No, I was hoping I could get Del to come and get her. It might be a good experience for him if he’s going to continue seeing her. Maybe this could work in our favor,” Pat continued, “but at least he will really see what he’s getting himself into.”
“True,” Nick agreed with a laugh, “but it might scare him off for good you know.”
“There’s not much else we can do. I think Bridget really cares for him and if seeing this doesn’t run him off, nothing will,” Pat chuckled. “If it wasn’t against what Da wants, I’d have her in the backroom right now tanning her hide.”
“I hear you there, Pat, give me a second and I’ll get that number.”
Nick got the number and while Patrick was trying to dial it, Bridget reached behind the bar and plucked a bottle of liquor out of the tray.
He managed to snatch it away at the last second and she pouted, giving him a dirty look before she forgot her pique and resumed singing merrily.
He had to say, Bridget was a happy drunk.
“Hello,” Del answered seeing the pub come up on his caller ID. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, Del, it’s Patrick. Sorry to bother you so late,” he apologized. “I have a little problem down here at the pub and I was hoping you could help me out?”
“Would that problem be a little girl about five feet tall with blonde hair?” Del asked sighing.
“How did you guess?”
“I can hear her singing. Is she drunk?”
“Shit-faced,” Pat answered. “The problem is I’m here alone.
Molly went home early and I have no one to watch the bar while I take the little brat home.
The roads are lousy and I don’t want to call Da and make him come out in this weather.
I was wondering if I could get you to take her off my hands. ”
Del had switched to speaker phone and was already pulling on his pants. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, Patrick. Don’t let her leave. I’d hate to have to chase her down.”
“Believe me, Del, she’s not going anywhere,” Patrick assured him, giving Bridget a nasty grin.
“Patrick, how did she get there?” Del asked, curious why she was alone.
“She came in about an hour ago with a few elves, some reindeer and Santa. Said she brought them from the North Pole. Wait till you see how she’s dressed, it’s unbelievable,” Patrick said shaking his head when Bridget stuck her tongue out at him.
“I’ll have you know this is a very cute outfit,” she insisted. “I have had lots of compliments. Patrick, I’m thirsty, I need a drink,” she whined.
“Del could you .…”
“I understand completely,” Del replied. “See you in a few.”
* * *
Del arrived in fifteen minutes, which meant one of two things Patrick decided.
Either the weather conditions had improved or he was pissed.
Walking in the door, he stomped the snow off his shoes and headed straight to the bar.
Ignoring Bridget’s “Winston honey,” he talked to Patrick.
“What happened to the rest of the people she was with?” he asked looking around.
“I gave them each a coffee and called a couple of cabs, on me,” Patrick answered, tugging back on Bridget’s belt when she tried to wiggle off the bar.
“I’m really sorry about this, Del. If I had been able to think of something else I would have done it.
I could hardly dump her in a cab and expect the driver to take her into the house.
Knowing my sister, she probably would have talked him in to stopping somewhere for another drink. ”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get her home safely. Did she have a coat?” Del asked looking around.
“Not that I saw.”
“Of course not,” Del replied taking off his long coat and lying it on the bar. Moving directly in front of Bridget, he signaled Pat to let go of her, plucked her hat off and gently tipped her off the bar and right over his shoulder.
Patrick saw her ruffled panties and thigh high stockings and looked away swearing.
“Jesus, does she have any sense at all?” he questioned no one in particular. Rounding the bar, he threw Del’s coat over her, covering her from her shoulders to her feet while Del moved his arm.
Bridget was struggling and cursing, but neither man paid the least bit of attention to her protests.
“Thanks a lot, Del,” Patrick said, following him to the door.
“No problem,” Del replied. Never altering his stride, they disappeared into the dark.
Opening his car door, Del dumped Bridget into the passenger seat, buckled her seatbelt and pushed the lock on her door before he shut it. Getting in, he started the car and turned the heater on full blast. In the short time he was in the bar, the windows had frozen over.
Bridget tried talking to him, asking him if he was mad at her, but he just glared in response until she turned away pouting.
“Fine, be that way,” she said. “I might as well just go to sleep if you’re not going to talk to me. Do you want me to sing to you?”
“No,” he answered, turning out of the parking lot.
“Fine then, I’ll just shut up.”
“Good idea.”