Patrick released the oars, as did the other men in the boat. Edwin was no longer making any progress. A weak dog paddle was all he could manage, and he finally reached up to grasp the side of the boat, wheezing, his face sick.
“I don’t want to go back to the Black Rose,” he panted. “I don’t want to face them.”
It was understandable. They were only a few hundred yards from the shoreline, but Patrick didn’t feel like spending the rest of the evening traveling back to Manhattan from Jersey City. Sometimes a person didn’t have many choices in life, but Edwin had dug himself into this hole all by himself, and the people around him had suffered enough for it.
A crew member clamped a boarding ladder onto the side of the boat. Edwin still hesitated to take it.
“I can’t force you to climb aboard,” Patrick said. “I don’t want to watch you drown trying to swim to shore, but that’s your choice, not mine.”
Edwin climbed aboard, and the crew members scrambled to turn the boat around. The world’s most awkward family reunion on the Black Rose was about to occur.
40
After Edwin’s shameful fall from grace, Gwen did her best to look forward to her new life. She moved out of her house and onto the Black Rose to live with Liam until renovations to the apartment she’d purchased could be completed, and in September her new life would officially begin.
Liam teased her mercilessly. To his eyes, she had merely changed one college for another. She tried to explain that the safe, cozy world of Blackstone College was a very different place than the intimidating urban environment of New York University, but he wasn’t convinced.
“They’re all just rich college kids,” he said dismissively.
Maybe so, but she was about to embark on a doctorate in botany, something she had always longed for but lacked the courage to get because it meant leaving Blackstone College. She hadn’t been ready before.
Now she was. Someone else would take over her botany class at Blackstone College while she embarked on the challenges of original research, publication, and laboratory work. Someday she would like to return to Blackstone College as a botany professor, but first she had to earn that privilege by proving herself at New York University.
School started next month, and today her only task was to help Liam toilet train his dog. One of the first things Liam did after taking ownership of the Black Rose was to send for his beloved, slobbery bulldog, who was going to be living on the yacht with them. A box of gravel was set out near the stern of the ship, and they walked laps around the deck while waiting for the dog to do its business.
They rounded the bow of the ship, where the view overlooked the marina. The sun was just beginning to set, and Gwen spotted a familiar figure loping across the pier toward them.
“Tell me that isn’t who I think it is,” she said.
“Uncle Mick,” Liam confirmed in a grim voice. “That’s his wife walking beside him. Guard your wallet. They’re both crooks and desperate for cash.”
The publication of Mick’s memoir had been canceled. Since Liam’s return, it was obvious the memoir was a pack of lies. There were no Italians who’d kidnapped little Willy Blackstone. There was no unjust prosecution. Mick had kidnapped Willy Blackstone, then passed him off to his cousin when the police closed in on the Five Points. Crocket hated the Blackstones enough to hold on to the boy, raising him in the same dingy conditions the rest of the workers in the steel industry endured.
“Don’t even let them onboard,” Gwen advised. “You’re a respectable man of business now, and consorting with shady people can ruin your reputation.”
Liam ignored her pleas and lowered the gangway. Five minutes later, Mick and his blowsy wife were onboard, craning their necks to admire the fine brass fittings and elegant deck furnishings. Mick was rail-thin, his wife a little plump and bedraggled, and they both lugged overstuffed canvas satchels.
“We heard you’d moved aboard,” Mick said. “It seems to me you’ll be lonely here. Do you suppose you’ve got a room for me and Ruby?”
Liam folded his arms across his chest. “Forget it. No room at the inn.”
“You can’t just turn us away,” Mick protested. “We’re family. You owe us.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t owe you anything. You and Crocket ruined most of my life, but no more. From this day forward, my name is Liam Blackstone. And if you ever try to come near me or touch anything else I own, I’ll set the law on you.”
Mick sputtered in outrage. “We don’t have anything left! They canceled my book.”
“Am I’m supposed to feel sorry for you? Get off my ship.” Liam grabbed Mick’s satchel and threw it onto the pier below, where it landed with a splat, scattering Mick’s paltry belongings over the planking. He reached for Ruby’s sack next, but she clutched it to her chest and started heading toward the gangway.
Mick reluctantly followed, spewing obscenities that echoed across the harbor. Gwen recoiled at the vile tone, but it was a terrible peek into the crude world her brother came from. Liam’s knuckles were white as he clutched the railing, but his face was emotionless as he watched Mick and Ruby walk out of his life.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
Liam took a while to respond as he stared into the darkened marina. “Yeah, it hurts. It shouldn’t, but it does.”
She understood. The crime Mick perpetrated against her entire family was going to be hard to forgive, but it would be hardest for Liam. He was probably right in making a clean break with the Malones. Like her, Liam was going to have to cut ties with the past before stepping into a new future.
41
Patrick spent the two weeks after the steel merger dealing with a flurry of cases from his regular clients. He fended off evictions, helped a man charged with illegal dumping, and defended a woman arrested for jaywalking while drunk. He visited men in jail to arrange for bail and filed lawsuits against insurance companies who refused to pay on their claims. None of it was glamorous or involved massive corporate mergers, but these cases meant the world to the people he served, and he burned the midnight oil chipping away at the backlog of paperwork.
His mother had returned to her job at the bakery. It was as if she’d never been sick. She still made him dinner each evening, pestered him to get married, and played pinochle with Mrs. O’Shea on the weekends.
One evening she brought home a special cake. The vanilla layer cake featured the shield and motto of Blackstone College.
“I’d like to thank Mrs. Kellerman,” Birdie said. “We can’t afford to pay her for the serum, but I want her to know I’m grateful, and a cake is the only thing I can offer.”
“It’s a nice gesture,” Patrick said, but guilt gnawed at him. A cake seemed embarrassingly paltry compared to what Gwen had done for them. He could never repay her for the serum, and then he’d made things worse by leading her to believe they might have a future together. They both got carried away building castles in the air, and it was his fault for letting it go too far.
“You’ll take it over to her, then?” Birdie didn’t look at him as she diced carrots for a stew.