Chapter 18: Both Legs

Moira's POV

The double doors opened onto three hundred people eating chicken under paper lanterns.

A banner over the stage said HOURIGAN FREIGHT, FORTY YEARS.

I walked in on both legs.

My heels were low, and the green dress swung around my knees.

I walked without a cane, and I did not hurry.

The nearest table noticed me first.

A woman put down her fork.

Then the whole room turned, one table after another, until the band stopped in the middle of a song.

Damiano came in behind me, a step back, exactly where I'd asked.

Behind him came forty men in work boots, and they filled the doorway and stood along the back wall with their arms folded.

At the head table, Bernadette rose.

She wore cream silk and her pearls, and her face did not change at all.

"Moira," she said warmly, into the silence. "Sweetheart, you came. And look, you're walking. Isn't that wonderful, everyone? Our girl is walking."

Some of the guests clapped.

Then they saw who stood behind me and stopped.

Eamon sat at her right hand in a dark suit, with a glass of whiskey, and he was sweating.

Colleen sat at the far end of the table, alone, with both hands in her lap.

I crossed the whole floor.

My shoes clicked on the parquet and nobody spoke.

I climbed the three steps to the stage.

The band's singer handed me the microphone without a word.

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