Page 19 of Pages of My Heart
“Hey Bridge, I’d like you to meet Charlie.”
She turns to them with a smile, placing her hands on her hips. She is tall for a woman, standing eye level with Charlie, and she has the type of figure that men seem to desire—slim, yet curvaceous. Charlie knows she’s only twenty-five, some seven years older than Thomas, but she has a commanding presence that makes her seem older, and it’s immediately clear she doesn’t suffer fools lightly.
Thomas turns back to Charlie, motioning to his sister. “Charlie, this is my oldest sister, Bridget.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Barclay,” he says, removing his cap and tipping his head in respect.
“Oh, none of that. Call me Bridget. Anyway, I still think of myself as an O’Reilly, don’t I, sweet face?” Bridget ruffles Thomas’s hair.
“Bridge!” Thomas protests, ducking out from under her hand. “I’m too old for childish nicknames.”
Bridget frowns. “You’ll never be too old. You’ll always be my sweet face.” She kisses Thomas on his cheek and Charlie laughs. He cannot wait to tease Thomas about this later—although he’s been known to call the redhead sweet from time to time, too.
“Charlie,” Bridget addresses him again, “I was about to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?”
Charlie glances at Thomas, who smiles and nods. “Uh, yeah, that would be great. Just black for me.”
“Tom, you having one?” Bridget says. “I made cake, too.”
“Yeah, I’ll have a cup. And cake sounds great.”
Bridget is already putting the percolator on the stove when she shoos them out of the kitchen. “You two make yourselves comfortable in the sitting room. Oh, and Thomas, call upstairs and tell Michael and Maggie to come down and join us.”
Thomas bounds up the stairs two at a time, leaving Charlie to fidget anxiously in one of the plush armchairs until he reappears a few minutes later with Michael and Maggie in tow. Bridget sweeps into the room then, too, bringing the drinks and cake on a tray and setting everything down on the coffee table.
Thomas introduces Charlie to Michael first. He looks like a male version of Bridget, handsome and confident, although he doesn’t have her height. But as soon as he opens his mouth, Charlie takes an instant disliking to him—which is troubling, seeing as Thomas always speaks so highly of his brother. There is a cockiness about him—like he has something to prove—that sets Charlie’s teeth on edge, and he feels oddly scrutinized by the other man’s lazy, half-lidded gaze.
Maggie, on the other hand, strikes Charlie as a typical fourteen-year-old girl, bubbling with enthusiasm but trying to act grown up. She has red hair, like Thomas, and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks, too. But most of all, she seems kind, like Thomas. On first impressions, Charlie likes her the most out of the three siblings.
After a few sips of coffee, Michael is the first to ask a question. “So Charlie, Tom tells me you two met playing billiards. Never thought I’d hear of my brother stepping foot in a dingy pool hall. How’d that happen?”
Charlie places his cup down before giving his practiced answer. “You can blame my cousin—Joe was the one to bring Thomas down and teach him how to play, and we just got to talkin’. I work as a mechanic, and turns out Tommy has an interest in fine automobiles when you can get him chattin’about something besides books for five damn minutes,” he ribs. Maggie giggles at that, and Bridget smiles knowingly. “He enjoys dropping in at the garage now and then when we’ve got a prestige model in for repair.”
Thomas jumps in, “You remember, don’t you, Michael? I told you about Joseph. He was studying at Wilson too and only recently graduated. He wasn’t a very good teacher, anyway—it was lucky Charlie took over. Now I can actually hold my own against the other guys down at the hall.”
Michael just hums in acknowledgment, lazy eyes still fixed on Charlie.
“So Charlie, how long have you worked as a mechanic?” Bridget asks, cutting the icebox cake she’s prepared into slices.
“Uh, I’ve been at Jimmy’s since I was fourteen. You know, with the crash and all, I had to take the job when it came up. But it’s a good place, and I enjoy working on the cars, fixing ’em up. Would maybe like to have my own garage one day.”
“That’s an honest day’s work,” Bridget says, passing him a generous piece of cake. “You should be proud of helping to support your family all these years. I’m glad Tom has a friend that knows the value of hard work instead of only mixing with those uppity folks at the college. We grew up with so little, and sometimes I think my siblings don’t remember how hard it was.”
That earns a round of hearty objections from the other three O’Reillys, but afterwards the conversation settles as they move on to discuss the goings on of the world, especially the worrisome behavior of Germany’s leader, Hitler, and if he’s as dangerous as some are saying. Charlie relaxes, relieved the interrogation was short-lived and happy things seem to be going as planned.
An hour or so later, after the cake pan has been cleared and Charlie’s leg is jumping from a second cup of coffee, Thomas stands. “Well, we should be heading off. We’re going on a double date with two sisters I met on campus—Betty and Joan. We’re taking them to the pictures.”
Maggie jumps to her feet, a little too energetically. “Charlie, who are you dating? Betty or Joan?”
Charlie stands, too, giving the young girl an indulgent smile. She reminds him a lot of his own sister at that age. “Your brother’s got his eye on Betty, so I’m taking out Joan. Haven’t met her yet, though. It’s a blind date for me. Tommy here already knows Betty pretty well,” he says with a wink, earning a snort from Michael and a punch in the shoulder from Thomas.
Bridget just shakes her head. “Well, good luck, boys. Don’t forget yourmanners,” she says with a pointed look at Thomas, “and remember to buy your dates a box of candy. It might just earn you a second date.”
Thomas chuckles at Bridget’s advice. “Sure thing, sis. You never know, Betty might just be the future Mrs. Thomas O’Reilly if I play my cards right.”
“Cheeky boy!” Bridget says, slapping Thomas’s arm. “It was lovely to meet you, Charlie. Come ’round and visit anytime.”
Five minutes later they’re walking down the road smiling like idiots, a little too much spring in their steps.
