O'Malley's Angel

As the night progressed, Tom often watched the back of Laura's silky brown hair fly as she shook her head. She was wearing another short, clingy dress. This one was yellow and played off the natural golden highlights in her hair. He melted every time she looked up at him with her bright, child-like smile. He suspected she'd never played with any kind of a band and figured she'd be in heaven. He was right. Matty finally shooed everyone out about 3:00 am.

Laura was flushed and sweating from the evening. She gushed to the band, "Guys, that was AMAZING! Here, you split this," she said pushing the huge pile of tip money to toward them.

Clarence grinned big, kissed her hand and replied, "Laura, baby, you ROCK! Believe me; we've been paid many times over just getting the opportunity to jam with you. You hang onto every single dollar and use it to buy yourself something nice."

"Amen!" echoed a smiling Bobby. "Sweetness, that was the most fun I've EVER had outa bed! You are fucking incredible! I just hope we can do this again real soon."

"Oh, my God, fellas ... any time!"

"We'll hold you to that," shouted Clarence as he and Bobby walked out of the bar waving to Matty.

She rushed up to Tom and gave him a big hug. "Thank you so much for that! This was definitely the best birthday ever!" she squealed with an enormous smile.

Tom's eyes widened. "Today's your birthday?"

Laura's smile faded into a shy grin. She shrugged and answered, "Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've taken you out on the town!"

She looked at him sweetly and replied, "There's nothing on earth you could've done that would have come anywhere close to this! Thank you." Then, she kissed his cheek.

On the walk to her apartment, Laura was so giddy she seemed to be reliving the entire evening note by note. Tom was floating on a cloud, knowing he'd made her so happy. "So, what're you gonna do with all that dough?" he asked.

A big smile spread across her face as she answered, "Give it to the shelter. They'll finally be able to buy that new TV and gaming system with all of this."

He looked puzzled. "Shelter?"

"Yeah ... the women's shelter on Harrison." She saw his quizzical look and continued, "My mom and I had a pretty hard time when I was growing up, and the shelter probably saved our lives. All my tip money and anything else I can spare goes to them."

Tom was dumbfounded. "That's ... so cool." He wanted to know more about her childhood, but they reached her building.

At her door, she smiled and said, "Thanks, again, Tom, for a perfect evening." She turned to enter her building, but everything about the evening had been so wonderful that he felt like he was going to explode if he didn't touch her. He reached for her hand with the intention of pulling her into a kiss. When she turned around, her smile was quickly replaced by a look of sadness and confusion once she realized what he wanted to do. She jerked her hand away from him with tears forming in her eyes and said, "Tommy, I can't." She turned swiftly and ran through the front door. Tom stood on the sidewalk in shock.

Three weeks had gone by, and there was no sign of Laura. Tom had sent flowers, cards and a gift basket to apologize and to plead with her to come back to O'Malley's. He promised to be on his best behavior. Still, there was no sign of her.

He sat at a far table in the bar by himself with his head lying on his arm on the table. Matty pulled up a chair, turned it backwards, sat and said, "I think it's time you and I had a chat. You know what they say ... bartenders are the poor man's therapists."

Before Tom could respond, a smiling customer ambled over to Tom and asked, "Tommy, where's your girlfriend?"

Matty saw a tear form in his nephew's eye and saw his chin quiver. He turned to the customer with a stern look and shook his head no. The customer dropped his smile and crept away.

"What happened between you and Laura?"

Tom sniffed and swallowed hard. "I'm not really sure, Matty, but I think I fucked up."

Matty was confused. "What exactly does 'fucked up' mean?"

He sniffed again and replied, "Remember the night Clarence and Bobby came and played?" Matty nodded. "I walked Laura home. Just as she was about to go inside, I grabbed her hand to pull her into a kiss." He looked at his uncle with moist eyes. "She suddenly got this scared, sad look on her face and said she couldn't and ran into her building." A tear ran down his cheek as he added, "I'm crazy about her, Matty. I just feel so lost. I don't know what to do."

"Did you try talking to her, to explain or apologize?"

"I sent her cards and flowers. I even waited for her one night like a stalker. As soon as she saw me, she told the cab driver to drive away. I really ... thought we connected. I guess I was wrong."

Matty sighed deeply and said, "Son, I don't know much, as your Aunt Katie will confirm." Tom smiled weakly. "But, I do know how that girl looked at you. She's nuts about you too, Tommy. Of that, I have no doubt!"

"Then why'd she run away like that? Why won't she talk to me?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure, lad. But, something's keeping her from listening to her heart ... something from her past, maybe." He put his hand on Tom's shoulder. "One thing's for sure; she's way too special to let her just walk out of your life. Don't give up. Fight for her, Tommy. If you don't, you'll regret it forever."

"But, how am I supposed to do that? She won't talk to me."

"Think, my boy. You two were thick as thieves. She must have said something that'll spark an answer." He placed both hands on Tom's shoulders. "Look at me, son. You may have made some mistakes here and there, but loving Laura wasn't one of them. Go find her, Tommy." He gave Tom a smile and headed back to the bar.

Tom replayed every conversation over and over in his head for the next few days. Finally, he decided to go visit the women's shelter.

"Can you tell me who's in charge?" he asked the shocked women behind the reception desk.

"I'm sorry; we don't give out any information on our guests. Now, you'll have to leave quietly, or I'll call the police," she said sternly.

"No ... no ... I'm not here about a resident. My name's Tom Callahan, and I'm here about Laura Schlesinger. She donates to the shelter, and I have a few questions," he said smiling.

The woman's stern face softened at the mention of Laura's name. "Laura? Oh, what a darling girl! What kind of questions?"

Tom continued smiling as he calmly answered, "Private ones."

Her expression changed to dubious. She cautiously picked up the phone and buzzed Marion Clark, the director. "There's a man here, a Tom Callahan, says he talked to Laura and has some questions ... private questions," she added with emphasis on the word, private, arching an eyebrow at him. She listened. "Uhm hmm ... Yes ... Seems harmless," she said into the phone, eyeing Tom up and down. Tom continued to look as pleasant and nonthreatening as possible. She straightened up and sighed, saying, "Okay." She hung up the receiver and told Tom he could go in. When the buzzer sounded, Tom entered the office area. He headed for the frosted glass door with the word, Director, on it and knocked.

"Come in," said the woman from inside.

Tom entered and walked toward her with a smile and his hand extended. "Hi, I'm Tom Callahan. Thank you for seeing me."

"Marion Clark. Please have a seat," she said motioning to the chair in front of her desk. Now that Tom was here, he suddenly had no idea how to begin. She stared at him curiously. Finally, she broke the silence by asking, "You said something about Laura?"

Tom was staring at the top of her desk, searching for words. "I -- I ..." She tilted her head and focused her eyes, studying him. "I wondered if ... I mean if you're allowed ..."

"Young man, just spit it out. What are you trying to ask?"

He looked up at her with scared eyes, which softened her expression. Whatever it was, she knew it was important to him. "I -- I wondered if you could tell me about her ... what brought her here and everything?"

She searched his eyes and asked, "Why?"

"I ..." When he felt himself losing his composure, he looked away. "She's very special."

"Yes, she is."

"What I mean is, she's very special to me." He gripped the arms of the chair hard as a tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek. He swallowed hard and continued, "The last time we -- we spoke ... she seemed so sad, that I was hoping to -- to maybe find out more about her."

Marion clasped her hands together and put her elbows on her desk. She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands as she considered Tom's inquiry and his motivation. "Why do you want to know?"

Tom faced a moment of truth. "Ms. Clark ... I ... I think I'm falling in love with her." He dropped his head again. He could feel his chin quiver. "We met a couple of months ago, and we ... connected." His face softened as he recalled meeting Laura. "She was playing the piano in my uncle's pub. I'm a musician too ... well, sort of a musician. Anyway, enough of one to be overwhelmed by her talent. One night, she started playing, and I started singing, and the crowd went absolutely ape shit ..." he stopped and looked at her.

Marion chuckled and said, "Don't worry. We all speak fluent French here."

Tom smiled and continued, "Anyway, I've never felt this way about a woman before. She's the most enchanting woman I've ever met." He leaned in and looked at Marion.

Suddenly, the phone buzzed, and the receptionist said, "Marion, Bruce Chaplin's on the line."

"Charlotte, tell Bruce I'll call him back, and hold my calls, please."

"But ... he said it's important."

Marion's voice became stern, and she replied, "I said I want you to hold ALL my calls, Charlotte. Bruce can wait." Her gaze returned to Tom, and she asked, "You were saying?"

Tom now had his elbows on her desk and had his face in his hands. "Ms. Clark, did you ever feel like you just discovered a hole in your heart that you never knew existed, and the only reason you discovered the hole is because you just met someone who filled it and made you complete?"

She smiled knowingly and said, "'What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.' Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote that." She looked at Tom and asked, "Is that the basic idea?"

His head tilted up, and he answered, "Yeah. And, now, without Laura, all I've got's this big emptiness."

Marion pursed her lips and sat back in her chair. "I see. But, what does any of this have to do with me or with the shelter?"

Tom hung his head and sighed deeply. Then, he raised his head and answered, "Things were going great between us. Every moment we spent together was complete magic, until I made the mistake of trying to kiss her. She instantly became sad, told me she couldn't, and ran out of my life. I haven't been able to see her or talk to her since."

"Have you considered the possibility that she values only your friendship and is saddened because you want more than she does?"

"About 900 million times." Marion chuckled at his boyish sincerity. "But, my heart tells me that's not true. Even my uncle believes she has feelings for me, and I trust him with my life. I -- I just wondered if something, like from her past, was holding her back."

Marion sat back in her chair and considered how to answer Tom for a long time. Finally, she said, "Tom, what I'm about to tell you can never leave this room ... EVER! I'm breaking a bunch of laws and ethical standards by even contemplating this." Tom was literally on the edge of his seat. Marion clasped her hands together and brought her index fingers to her lips. Her eyes moved up to meet his, and she said, "Laura's father ... loved her all her life." She narrowed her eyes and added, "For her WHOLE life," and she paused to let those words sink into his brain. When the recognition showed on his face, she continued.

"Her father was a bum, who could never hold a job and drifted in and out of drunkenness. Laura's mother, Emily, was like a lot of Catholic women of her generation, brain-washed by the church into believing that she had to stick with her rotten marriage, regardless of how much pain the relationship inflicted. As Laura grew older, he became more ... uh... affectionate, especially when he was inebriated. Laura was a child; she didn't know how to cope. One day, her mother came home early from her job at the diner. When she walked in, she heard Laura's cries from the back bedroom. She ran in and saw her husband kissing Laura and putting his hand under her dress. In a fit of absolute fury, she screamed at him to get his filthy hands off her daughter and she lunged at him, fighting him like a tigress. He turned and slapped her hard against the wall. Emily just wiped the blood off her mouth, looked at him with pure rage. As he took a step toward her, she kicked him so hard in the balls that he required surgery. They fled the house that night and came here with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

"Laura's father filed assault charges against her, thinking Laura would never testify against her own father." Marion looked down, shaking her head. "He was so wrong. Laura was so brave. She marched into court and gave such a detailed testimony of her father's abuse that both the judge and jury were in tears. Needless to say, he went to prison, where I'm happy to report, the most depraved and dangerous inmates were allowed to have their way with him. I've always found it curious that even in prison, where our wretched refuse collect, they have no tolerance for child molesters. He was eventually found dead behind one of the industrial laundry machines."

Tom never moved during the story, and his cheeks were glistening with tears when Marion got up from her desk and moved to the chair beside him. She handed him some tissues and took his hand. "So, why am I telling you this? Laura is like a daughter to me. I couldn't love her more if I had carried her inside me. When Emily died from cancer a few years ago, I essentially took her mother's place. I knew who you were as soon as Charlotte mentioned your name." She leaned into him and said, "Laura does care about you, Tom ... deeply." He now struggled very hard to keep from breaking down completely. "But, before I let you near my girl, I needed to look into your eyes and your heart. Tom, Laura blames herself for all that happened when she was growing up."

He looked horrified. "Why?"

"Because she's human ... because many victims feel that somehow they are to blame for the crime. It's going to take an exceptionally special man to work through all that poison and to enable her to trust again." She reached up and brushed some of Tom's brown hair from his face. She smiled kindly at him. "You look like you could be that person, Tom." Tom's eyes welled up, and he started crying hard. Marion pulled him toward her and let him cry on her shoulder for a long time.

When Tom eventually raised his head, sniffing and wiping his eyes on the backs of his hands, Marion said, "I don't have any easy answers, Tom, for breaking through the walls she's built around herself. But, I've always had an instinct that music was somehow the key." She smiled broadly and looked at him with great pride as she said, "She is a true savant. Julliard has a standing offer of a full scholarship for her. She's always played in private, just for her own peace. You opened a hole in her heart too, Tom, when you did all the things you did. I can promise you she's just as crazy about you as you are her." Tom spat out a laugh even as he tried to stopper his tears.

"Go find our girl, Tom. Reclaim that bond that connected you in the beginning, and listen to the music of your heart."

Tom called his boss, Nate, and asked for the day off. Tom was a structural engineer for one of the biggest construction firms in New England, and Nate loved him because Tom was one of those guys who did his job well and never complained. Nate didn't know everything, but he knew enough to know something important was going on in Tom's life. "Take a couple of days off, kid. Make it a long weekend. Lord knows you've earned it," Nate said.

"Thanks, Nate. I owe you."

He drove to the Cape to get away from the city and to clear his head. The wind stung a bit as he walked along the beach, but he didn't care. He was kind of glad. It made him feel alive. He drove to Chatham for lunch at a chowder house that was kind of a dive but had great food. He was sitting at the bar, flirting with Maggie, the waitress, when a guy walked in asking for Scott, the owner.

"Jesus, Maggie! I told you we need to keep the riff-raff outa here," Scott teased as he wiped his hands on his apron and approached, Dan, the visitor.

"Then, how the hell would you get to work every day?" Dan teased right back. Maggie just rolled her eyes at the ritual and asked Tom if he needed another beer.

Scott looked up at the clock and said, "It's 12:40, so you've been up for at least half an hour."

"Your sister says hello, by the way!" Scott laughed and gave his friend a hearty handshake. "So, are you all set for Saturday?"

"Yep. Everyone'll be here plus a few extra hands. I've got a truckload of steamers coming in early that morning. Reggie's hauling in some fresh seaweed. Tim's arranging for the lobster. We should be all set."

"Great!" Dan said with a big smile. He plopped a stack of flyers on the counter, and Tom looked over to see what was being planned. He learned that the chowder house was hosting a clam bake on Saturday for St. Michael's School. The proceeds were to be used for the scholarship fund for underprivileged kids to cover tuition. Dan took off his scarf, and Tom saw that the man was wearing a priest's collar. "When it's your time, Scottie, God's gonna stay open late to hold a spot for you."

"Ahh!" Scott said as he waved off the compliment. "I'm just a retired sea dog. What your staff does with those kids, Danny, now THAT's a miracle. Sit down over here. I'll have Benjy rustle up something to eat." The two old friends sat down in a far booth and shared lunch and laughs together as they had for twenty years.

"What's St. Michael's?" Tom asked Maggie as she set down his second Guinness.

She smiled. "It's a special school for kids from shelters and broken homes. They give them food, clothes, whatever they need so they can forget about the rough times they're going through and concentrate on just being kids. You wouldn't believe how many of them go on to college. You need anything else, hon?"

Tom was just staring at the counter. He broke his trance long enough to look up at her, thank her, and slap $30 on the counter.

"Don't you want your beer?" she called to him as he jumped up and raced out the door.

For the next couple of weeks, Tom was busier than the proverbial one-armed paper hanger. He had been on the phone with Marion before he even got to his car.

"Tom, that's a brilliant idea! And, you're gonna help a lot of families. What do you need from me?" Marion asked.

Of course, once Tom brought Matty in on his plan, everything shifted into high gear. All the arrangements were made ahead of schedule. All Tom had to do now was get flyers printed and distributed. His company signed on to be the main sponsor for the event.

"Excuse me, is the manager around?" Tom asked into the speaker outside Laura's apartment building.

"I'm the super. What'd you need?"

"I was just wondering if I could put up a few flyers about a charity event coming up on Saturday."

The man on the other end sighed and said, "I'll be right out."

Soon, an older man with a pot belly, wearing a t-shirt under suspenders, attached to green cotton pants greeted him at the door. He put on his reading glasses and looked at the flyer, read it and told Tom it'd be okay to put a few on the main door and at the elevator entrance.