Neamhghaolmhar

Author's Note: Although ratings are nice, nothing beats a comment or two about what you liked or disliked about a story. Please take a moment to leave one. Thank you.

June 1982

Sean McKenna waved along with the rest of the crowd outside of the reception hall, wishing the newly married couple their best wishes as they set off on their honeymoon. It felt strange to the nineteen year old redhead to have been the best man at his own father's wedding, but that feeling was easily offset by his happiness that the old man had found joy in his life once more.

It had been nearly a decade since Bridget McKenna had died, and for most of that Sean had feared his father might never recover from that loss. Then, just two years ago, Madeline Conner came into Padrick McKenna's life and things quickly changed. Nine years younger than the forty-five year old dentist, the bookstore owner had also been married once before, a short lived union that had ended in divorce by their second anniversary. The two had been introduced by a mutual friend who thought they might hit it off, an assumption that had been proven right.

With the bride and groom now gone, the party began to slowly break up and it wasn't long before only a dozen guests remained. One of whom, at least as far as Sean was concerned, was the only dark cloud on an otherwise perfect day.

Eleanor Ryan was the mother of the bride, and while Sean had only met her a few days before, the amount of time he spent with her was about to increase dramatically. As a wedding gift to his new wife, Padrick had arranged for some major renovations to the house that they would now both call home. A makeover that would see painters, carpenters and electricians descend on the three story colonial over the next two weeks and transform the place.

Sean had offered to oversee the renovations, but, having been burned by contractors in the past, Padrick was worried that the workmen might try and put one over on the inexperienced college student. He had expressed that concern at the rehearsal night dinner a few nights before and Mrs. Ryan, who had been sitting next to him, told him to put his mind at ease.

Her late husband, she explained, had been a general contractor out on Long Island for nearly thirty-two years, and even though her own career had been spent as a hospital nurse, she'd learned enough from him that she could spot cheap materials and substandard work almost as well as he could. She'd be happy to extend her visit and keep an eye on the project.

Sean could see the wisdom of having someone more experienced keep an eye on things, but having the older woman staying at the house was, he believed, going to put a major crimp in his social life. Madeline had given up her apartment at the end of May, putting her stuff in storage until the work was complete, and had been staying in the guest room -- or at least maintaining the fiction that she was -- during the week before the wedding. Eleanor, meanwhile, had been staying at a nearby hotel. Since the guest room wasn't part of the renovation, Padrick had immediately suggested that she make use of it rather than pay for an extra two weeks at the hotel.

The retired nurse hadn't said or done anything to make Sean think that he was going to have a problem with her, but he just had the feeling that she would be. Just the fact that she was sixty-three, which put her right between his 'real' grandmothers, was enough. He loved his grandparents, and felt himself fortunate to still have them around, but it didn't take much for them, especially his grandmothers, to get on his nerves. All it usually took was a conversation to start with ... "When I was your age ..."

'Shit, that's all I need, a third grandmother to tell me what's wrong with my life,' Sean thought as he suddenly wondered if that was what his father's remarriage made her.

"I'll say it again, you do look dashing in that tux," a voice said from behind Sean, causing him to turn.

Barely an inch shorter than Sean's own five eight, Eleanor Ryan was a medium framed woman with short auburn hair, cut just above her neck. She had a modest but firm bust, emphasized by the beige, mid-sleeve embroidered dress she was wearing. The rest of her, it had to be noted, had also held up pretty well. The smile on her face was warm and expressive, and most people formed a good first impression of her -- Sean being an exception.

Eleanor's compliment caused Sean to reflexively glance at his image in the nearby glass door which, while not quite reflective as a mirror, still returned a good enough image to prove the truth of her accolade.

"Sean, I'm about to head back to the house," Eleanor said, "and I was wondering, do you need a lift, or do you and that young lady I saw you with earlier have plans?"

The young lady she was referring to was Jennifer Greene, a brown haired beauty who had danced several numbers with Sean during the reception. The two of them had been an item back in high school, but the relationship had fizzled out when he went off to college. Jennifer didn't believe in long distance relationships. She was currently seeing Donald Robinson but had come solo to the wedding with her family.

"No plans, Jennifer went home with her folks," Sean replied.

"Oh, that's too bad," Eleanor empathized. "She seemed like a nice girl."

Sean just shrugged.

"Well, I'll just have a last word with the caterers before we go," the older woman said, changing the subject, "so I'll meet you by the car."

-=-=-=-

The car she referred to was a late model Blue Metallic Range Rover with a light brown interior, not exactly what one thought of as an 'old lady's' ride. Rather than see it, as a clue to what might have made her different from the image he'd formed in his head, Sean simply assumed it had belonged to her husband and she hadn't sold it out of a sentimental attachment.

The reception hall was only a fifteen minute ride from the McKennas' house in the Prospect Park South section of Brooklyn, and as they made their way through the residential streets Eleanor tried to make conversation, expressing her hope that her staying at the house for the next few weeks wouldn't cause him any problems.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Mrs. Ryan," Sean replied as they turned onto Ocean Parkway.

"Oh, you don't have to be so formal," Eleanor smiled. "I'm sure that we can come up with something better than Mrs. Ryan. At least something that doesn't make me sound so old."

'Well, you are, aren't you?' Sean thought but was smart enough not to say, inquiring instead if perhaps she now expected him to call her grandmother?

"Heavens no," she laughed loudly. "I would think that the last thing you need is a third grandmother."

"What should I call you then?" Sean asked, thinking that she had almost read his mind.

"Well, your dad just calls me Eleanor," she offered after a moment's thought. "Why don't we go with that?"

"Both of my grandmothers would've boxed my ears if I called an adult by their first name," Sean mentioned. "They'd say it was disrespectful."

"Well, that might've been true when you were a kid," Eleanor replied, "but you're a grown man now. So, Eleanor is fine."

By the time they'd made a right onto Beverly Road, Sean was beginning to wonder if perhaps he had been wrong in his assumptions about Eleanor.

-=-=-=-

It didn't take more than a day into the renovation for it to become clear that Eleanor had definitely been the best choice to oversee it. Thinking that Sean was still in charge, the boss of the painting crew had convinced the younger man that a lesser brand of paint would do as good a job as the higher priced one that Padrick had ordered. He'd be willing, he further told the teenager, to pass along the savings by reducing his bill.

Sean had all but agreed to the change, thinking that if he could save his dad some money it was a good thing. After all, the man was a professional and knew what he was talking about. It was only when the man asked Sean to initial the changes on the contract that he remembered that any changes were supposed to be run by Eleanor.

"No problem," the painter had said, thinking she would be easier to convince than Sean had been.

That proved not to be the case, however, as Eleanor was quick to point out that, while the lesser brand might indeed appear similar in the beginning, the difference was in its durability. If they followed his advice, they'd be repainting the rooms in only a few years -- which, she implied, was exactly why he'd suggested the substitution. Furthermore, the reduction he'd offered in the bill was barely half what he'd be saving in using the cheaper paint. No, she said in a definitive tone, the job would be done exactly as originally contracted.

Having witnessed the exchange between Eleanor and the painter, Sean expected her to read him the riot act as well for initially agreeing to the change, or at least make him feel like an idiot for not seeing that he was being taken advantage of. To his surprise, the older woman did neither, instead brushing aside his error with a smile and the simple advice that if you weren't sure about something, just ask someone else their opinion. That's how you learn.

-=-=-=-

The week went by faster than Sean had expected, and with much better results than he might've imagined. Not only were the contractors doing the work exactly as expected, but it looked like just about all of them were going to be done ahead of schedule, especially the painters, who had the most work to do. Once Eleanor had made it clear that they weren't going to be taking any shortcuts, or adding to the bill, it became more profitable to finish the project sooner rather than later, so that they could move on to a new one.

Also, as the week progressed, Sean continued to discover how much his first impression of Eleanor had been wrong. With the exception of his grandparents, Sean's interactions with older people had been pretty limited, and he certainly hadn't spent a great deal of time learning about their lives. At least not until this week, when he'd not only had dinner with Eleanor every night, but had spent a good part of the evening watching television with her and talking. He'd been greatly surprised to discover that not only was her life story fascinating, but she also seemed genuinely interested in his.

He had known that Eleanor had been a hospital nurse from what his father had told him, but was amazed to learn that before that, she had been a Navy nurse and had served during the Second World War. Where the Navy and the Marines had gone, she soon followed, from Pearl Harbor to Tokyo Bay, serving aboard both hospital ships and makeshift shore facilities.

"So, Friday night," Eleanor said as she cleared away the dinner dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. "What's on your agenda for this evening?"

"Steve, Mike and I are going to see the new Star Trek movie down at the Globe," Sean replied as he carried the glasses to the dishwasher.

"The Wrath of Khan, right?" Eleanor said, finding amusement in the expression on Sean's face when she added the title. "What's the matter, did you think that someone my age couldn't be a Trekkie?"

"I guess I never really thought about it," Sean replied.

"I'll have you know that not only did I watch the series when it first aired back in the sixties, my husband and I went to one of the first conventions here in New York in the early seventies " Eleanor added. "In fact, we even met Gene Roddenberry and his wife, Majel, through a friend on the organizing committee."

"Wow!" Sean exclaimed, thoroughly impressed.

It occurred to Sean that even if his friends probably wouldn't like it, he should ask Eleanor if she'd like to come along. If she really was that much of a fan, it was the least he should do, given all the help she'd been to his father with the contractors.

"I appreciate your asking," Eleanor replied after he'd done so, "but I already saw it when it opened last Friday. Don't worry, I won't mention any spoilers."

Sean said he'd appreciated that. Too much of the movie had been leaked beforehand, especially the news that Spock was supposed to die in the film.

"Are you going out after the movie?" Eleanor inquired.

"I really hadn't thought about it, but I guess we'll get pizza or something," he replied.

"Well, if you want, why don't you and your friends come back here?" Eleanor suggested. "I mean, the basement playroom is all finished, so you might as well make use of it. And don't worry, I'll stay up here and keep out of your way."

"I'm not sure my dad would be okay with that," Sean offered. "He likes to be home when I have people over."

"Did he ever explicitly say you couldn't have friends over if he wasn't here?" Eleanor asked.

"Well no, but ..." he started to reply.

"No buts," Eleanor smiled. "Padrick told me to use my best judgment as far as making any decisions about the house, and I don't think you need parental supervision to have a few friends over."

If there was one thing above all that Sean liked about Eleanor, it was that she treated him as an adult. Something that the people who watched him grow up still seemed to have a problem doing.

"Okay, I'll invite them over then," Sean now agreed. "We'll pick up a few pizzas on the way."

-=-=-=-

A few hours later, Eleanor looked up from the television screen as the credits for The Greatest American Hero scrolled across the screen. Sean and his friends should be showing up anytime now, she thought, as she turned off the set. Sure enough, the sound of the side door opening confirmed her assumption. Thinking she should at least meet them before they went downstairs, Eleanor headed out to the kitchen.

She got there just in time to see Sean laying a small pizza box down on the table. What she didn't see was anyone else with him.

"What happened to your friends?" Eleanor asked, glancing past Sean to see if they might be coming in after him.

"They got a better offer," Sean replied as opened the cardboard box to reveal four slices, half of them covered with pepperoni and sausage.

"A better offer?" Eleanor repeated.

"We ran into the Russell sisters at the pizzeria and the guys decided to hang out with them instead," Sean explained.

"Why didn't you invite the girls back here too?" Eleanor asked.

"Two girls, three guys," Sean pointed out, not seeing the need to state the obvious.

"I see," Eleanor said, thinking she really should've realized that herself. "Well, at least you still brought back pizza, because I'm actually a bit hungry."

"I wasn't sure what toppings you liked so I got two plain slices for you," Sean said. 'I hope that's okay. If not we can..."

"Plain is fine," Eleanor replied.

Sean opened one of the counter drawers and pulled out a large pizza cutter. He then opened the cabinet above it and grabbed a couple of large dinner plates.

As he laid two slices on each plate, Eleanor stepped over to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of beer, pausing before closing the door to ask if Sean wanted one.

"You can't tell me that you've never had a beer up at school," she said when she saw the look of surprise on his face. "In fact, I'm willing to bet it wasn't your first one either."

"Yeah, I'll have a beer," he finally replied.

They sat at opposite sides of the table and began to eat the late night snack. Eleanor asked him what he thought of the movie, saying that she thought it was far superior to its predecessor a few years before.

"This time they finally remembered that what made Star Trek great was the interaction between the characters and not a bunch of flashy special effects," she noted.

Sean agreed, adding that the original series had been so ahead of its time that he wouldn't be at all surprised if forty years from now, people were still watching it.

"I'm not sure that I'd go that far," Eleanor laughed, "but it was a great show."

They shared a few more thoughts about the movie, including the idea that there might be a third film, since it seemed like the story offered a way that Spock might return. Then Eleanor recalled a call she'd gotten earlier.

"Oh, by the way," Eleanor said as they started on their second slices, "your grandmother Irene called earlier, asking if you were giving me any trouble."

"What did you tell her?" Sean asked.

"That far from giving me any trouble, you'd proved invaluable in dealing with the contractors this past week," the older woman smiled. "She seemed genuinely surprised when I told her that."

A smile Sean returned.

"Most of the time she still sees me as a little kid," Sean commented, "one that had to be kept out of trouble."

"Oh, do you usually get into trouble a lot?" Eleanor inquired.

"I think I'll plead the fifth on that," Sean laughed.

"That's probably a good idea," Eleanor also laughed.

It still amazed Sean how different Eleanor and his grandmothers were, even though they were basically the same age. When he talked to one of the latter, they never left any doubt that they were his elders and had to be spoken to with that in mind. Eleanor, on the other hand, treated him as a fellow adult, with little thought to the difference in their ages.

"Did you get into a lot of trouble when you were my age?" Sean felt emboldened to ask.

"Maybe not so much when I was your age, but once I finished nursing school, well ... I'll also have to plead the fifth," she replied.

"What made you join the Navy?" Sean inquired.

"I guess I could say I signed up in a surge of patriotic enthusiasm after Pearl Harbor," Eleanor replied after a moment's consideration, "but the truth is that I signed up almost a year earlier, at the end of 1940."

That, Sean thought, really didn't answer the question, but Eleanor seemed to realize that as well and she continued a few breaths later.

"It's funny, but the reason I signed up wasn't all that far from what you were just saying about your grandmother," she said. "There I was, twenty-one years old with a nursing certificate and almost a year's experience under my belt, and all I ever heard from my family was when was I going to get married and start a family. So when the opportunity presented itself, I jumped at it."

"Did you ever regret it?" Sean asked.

"Not a day," Eleanor replied without a pause. "Not even the ones where I went to bed at night not knowing if there was going to be a tomorrow. Having someone repeatedly shooting at you gives you not only an appreciation of life, but the resolution to never waste a day of it."

Although it wasn't a question that he'd have the courage to ask, Sean wondered how many of those nights she hadn't gone to bed alone. He'd read that morals were a lot stricter back then, but he'd also heard it said that many conventions went out the window during war.

Even at sixty-three, Eleanor was a good looking woman. She wasn't movie star pretty like Maureen O'Hara or Jane Russell, but like those women she didn't look like she was in her early sixties. If he'd been introduced to her without any backstory, he'd have thought she was at least a decade younger. Sean tried to imagine what she looked like when she was his age. Based on how she looked now, as well as what Madeline looked like, he surmised that she must've been pretty indeed. Speaking of her daughter, Eleanor further added that once the war was over and she was discharged, she did settle down and started a family in the late forties.

The conversation again shifted, with Eleanor inquiring why hadn't Sean asked that girl from the wedding, or someone else, to go to the film with him. He was a good looking guy, she observed, and couldn't imagine him not being able to find a date if he wanted.

"Jennifer and I have a bit of a history," Sean replied. "We went out a lot in high school, but now we're just friends."