Who's Your Paddy?

Chapter 18

The Saint Patrick's Day celebration was much larger than I expected. The Harp's exterior parking area was cordoned off by chain link fence and two additional stages were placed. The smaller of the two was situated near the back patio under a tent. The larger stage was at the far end of the parking lot.

By the time Jim and I arrived to take photographs, there were already a few thousand people milling about and Liam's band was about to finish up on the outdoor stage.

We stood in the back by the building and peered over a sea of green clad bodies.

The click of the camera shutter was constant as Jim worked to capture the action on the periphery. I didn't expect to experience a twinge of longing when I heard them playing. It took me by surprise. I never would have expected the strum of his guitar to become so familiar or intimate enough to cause an emotional reaction. I shrugged my shoulders as if to will the shivers away and turned to Jim.

"Let's head inside and get some shots in there."

"Hang on, I need to get in for a some close ups."

"Meet me inside then."

He nodded and waded into the throng.

I was able to pass through a gated area by the back door of the pub because Mick had given me an employee badge. They had the storage area of the backroom set up with food and drink for the employees working that day. One corner of the large room had instrument cases lining the side of the wall. I recognized Liam's personal items immediately.

Roisin bustled through the door to the backroom carrying an armful of empty bottles. After dumping them in the trash, she wiped her hands on her apron and greeted me like a long lost relative. "Annie!" The warmth in her hug was just what I needed.

"Hey, Ro. I didn't realize you'd be working today."

"Think they'd let me drink on the busiest day of the year 'round here? And wait, what aren't ye outside watchin' yer man?"

I smiled.

"Feck sake, he still actin' the eejit?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Leave 'em ta me. Now, help yerself ta anythin' back here an watch yerself if ye go inside. Tis a madhouse."

"I will. And thanks."

She pinched my cheek, followed it with a peck and ran off toward the kitchen door.

After making sure Jim got photographs of the action within the pub's interior, we re-entered the back room and I found Liam relaxing on a chair. He immediately stood and shook Jim's hand before turning to hug me.

It wasn't the usual warm greeting I would get from him, but it also wasn't without intention. His hands lingered on my back and he buried his face in my hair.

"Great to see ya," he whispered.

It's amazing how something so small as a lingering hand, or a pensive inhale could produce a wobble to my knees, but it did.

"You too."

Tom cut the moment short when he handed me a pint of Guinness. "Comin' to Dublin's Own, Annie?"

"Oh, thanks, and I don't think so. We're almost done here."

"Why not?" Liam asked.

I turned to face him. "Uh...well, I have a couple other stops to make. Figured I'd try to make it back here later for your last set."

Liam dropped his eyes and busied himself with tuning the guitar.

Early in the evening, just after I left the office to drop off the prints for the morning addition, Liam called.