The Parting Glass Read Online Free Page A

nave and up the aisle.
    “What are you doing out here?”
    Niccolo turned to see his best man coming through the door. Jon Kovats, Casey’s husband, was dressed in a dark suit, too, only on Jon it looked perfectly natural. He was a prosecutor, with quiet, clean-cut good looks that gave crime victims faith and an unwavering gaze that gave defendants shivers down their spines.
    “Aren’t you supposed to be hiding somewhere with Father Brady until right before the ceremony?” Jon asked.
    Niccolo hated to admit the truth, that after Jon had dropped him off at the side door, Niccolo had sneaked into the narthex for a look at the guests. He had hoped his parents would relent and attend, although he hadn’t said as much to Josh.
    “I was just getting some air,” he said, “and checking to see if anything had to be done out here.”
    “Nick, you can let go of everything for a while. Let the rest of us take care of the details. That’s why we signed on.”
    “Have you heard anything from Casey?”
    “Anything?”
    Niccolo tugged his collar away from his throat again. He had gone from a priest’s dog collar to a working man’s flannels. Ties felt unnatural. “Lately, I mean. In the last half hour?”
    “Not a word. Why? She’s helping Megan dress. I’m sure there hasn’t been much free time.” Jon frowned. “You’re afraid Megan’s not going to show up, aren’t you?”
    “It crossed my mind.”
    “Megan lives up to her commitments. To the point of mania, as a matter of fact. It’s something the two of you have in common.”
    Jon knew them both too well. Niccolo couldn’t stop a smile, but he sobered quickly. “She’s afraid everything will change, that I’ll wake up one morning and realize I made a mistake, only I’m too good a Catholic to admit it.”
    “Megan? She has a superhero ego. I can’t believe that.”
    “Strong ego, yes, but she’s just not sure how to go about being married. And Megan hates being unsure about anything.”
    “Just Megan? Or you, too?”
    Niccolo thought the question was insightful, but he wasn’t surprised. He and Jon had become close friends in the two years they’d known each other, and Jon was a master at uncovering secrets.
    “I’ve never been married, but I plan to work hard at it,” Niccolo said.
    “Whoa there. Not too hard, or you won’t have any fun. It’s not a job, it’s a relationship.”
    “She deserves the best. A hundred percent. Two hundred.”
    “She deserves a man who’s enjoying himself.”
    There was a commotion at the door, and Niccolo turned. A distinguished-looking man with silver hair was helping a plump, attractive woman through the doorway. For a moment Niccolo stood absolutely still; then he turned back to Jon. He cleared his throat. “Jon, come with me, will you? I’d like you to meet my parents.” He glanced at the doorway again. “And my grandfather.”
    Jon was a good enough friend to understand the significance of those words. He clapped his hand on Niccolo’s shoulder. “Do you believe in omens?”
    “I’m too Catholic not to.”
     
    Megan had refused a limousine. Didn’t understand the point, didn’t want the fuss, and refused to spend the money. Neither she nor Niccolo was ever going to be rich. There were better uses for their dollars.
    She had refused rides with family, turned down Jon’s offer to ferry her in a friend’s fire-engine-red convertible, refused everything, in fact, except the simplest solution. She, Peggy and Casey would ride to the church together in Casey’s car.
    She just hadn’t reckoned with a flat tire.
    Now the sisters stood outside Casey’s house and stared forlornly at the evidence.
    “There’s debris all over the roads from the wind. I guess I drove over something on the way back from the saloon,” Casey said.
    “Yeah, like a railroad spike. That tire’s a pancake.”
    “And I sold my car,” Peggy said. “I hitched a ride over here from Uncle Den.”
    “Charming.” Megan