“I haven’t had her yet,” William muttered between jags of laughter. “So don’t mind me when I tell her I think her haircut is a bag o’ swag.”
Rill couldn’t help but grin as his uncles tried to calm their hilarity. Their expressions were sober and innocent as choirboys by the time Margie brought them their pints.
“That new haircut is real elegant, Margie. Makes you look a picture. That’s my nephew there, and he ain’t got nothing I don’t,” William assured her as the waitress eyed Rill and gave him a flirtatious smile. “Mine’s just the vintage version, that’s all.”
Margie rolled her eyes and walked away, putting an extra twitch in her ass. William took a long drink of his Guinness and smacked his lips appreciatively, his gaze glued to Margie’s rear view.
“She wants me bad,” William declared.
“Aw, shut it,” Ray said. “Our nephew is here. We’ve got better things to discuss than the frickin’ party your prick is throwing.” William’s expression looked doubtful, but he joined in the conversation jovially, anyway. William and Ray Pierce may be loudmouthed wastrels, but unlike their sister, Fiona, neither possessed a mean bone in his body.
They caught up over the next hour, his uncles becoming more expansive in their speech with each successive pint Rill bought them.
“You never told us why you came back to this bloody town,” Ray said a while later. “Did you visit Fiona?”
“Yah, I did. Came to ask her again who my dad was.”
“Aw, well, that couldn’t have gone well. Fiona always kept a tight clamp on her mouth about that topic even if she was loose with everything else she had to offer,” Ray said.
“You know,” William said significantly after he took a deep draw on his Guinness. “I have a theory on that and all. Want to hear it?”
“Sure,” Rill replied casually.
“I think your dad was that bloody vicar.”
Ray snorted. “You’re busting at the seams with it, William.”
“My dad was a vicar,” Rill repeatedly dryly.
“No, no . . . hear me out,” William defended, scowling at his brother. “I figure Fiona’d have to be ashamed of what she’d done, for her to keep her mouth shut about it all these years. Angus Rourke, that was his name. Big, strapping man, like you, Rill. Preached his bit in Dublin. Fiona used to visit our cousin Dina in town and the two of ’em would coo over what was under the vicar’s church robes. Knowing Fiona, she found out for herself firsthand.”
“Is Rourke still alive?” Rill asked. He’d heard many theories on the identity of the man who had fathered him, and this particular claim was an unheard one.
“Nah, died ten years back in a plane wreck. You’d think he would have had better relations with his employer,” William said, pointing upward.
“You know,” Ray said, wagging his finger at Rill. “Maybe he’s on to something.”
“You really think so?” Rill asked, amused.
“It’d sure explain why you were always so uptight, Rilly. Never chasing after the sallies even when they was practically lying in the path in front of you with their legs spread wide. Maybe it’s because you’ve got some vicar genes in you.”
William snorted with laughter.
Rill tilted his head as he studied his uncle. Here was something odd. Rill’d had his share of girlfriends in his teenage years. “You really think that? That I’m uptight?”
“Sure, I do.” Ray nodded his head sagely. “You don’t think I called you a prince when I saw you just because you’re so blessed tall and look as though you got plenty of coin in your pocket, do you?” Ray took a swallow of beer and seemed to consider. “ Course, you wouldn’t need vicar genes to make you a gentleman with the ladies. Not when you had Fiona for a ma.”
“Or us for uncles,” William said.
For a second, both men studied their Guinnesses soberly.
They broke out in simultaneous laughter, William slapping the wood table for emphasis.
Rill chuckled along with them. His uncles would never change, but Rill was okay with that for the first time. He opened his mouth to ask more questions about the vicar, but stopped himself at the last moment. Would it really do him any good? He’d never really know one way or anothe
r who his father was. Even if he ever succeeded in locating the dead vicar’s family, it wasn’t as if they’d be thrilled with his allegations their relative had been screwing one of his parishioners.
No, it was time Rill gave up on discovering that mystery from his past. He had a future to consider now.