Read Online Mercy of St Jude by Wilhelmina Fitzpatrick - Free Book Online

couple of cans of tomatoes,” said Pat, taking a long sharp knife and a can opener from the drawer.
    Dermot was at the counter, frowning at all the empty bottles.
    â€œRelax, Derm.” Lucinda’s voice was deadpan. “There’s lots of homemade wine.”
    â€œGod no, Mom,” said Annie. “We can’t risk people drinking that stuff.”
    Dermot shuddered. “Yes, that was a right awful batch, wasn’t it? Come on, Luce, we has one party a year. Least we can do is put it on right, especially with Annie home.”
    Lucinda shrugged. “Sure it doesn’t matter. It’s too late to buy more.”
    Pat looked up from the can of tomatoes he was opening. “Why don’t I run home and get some of Dad’s New Year’s stash? You can put it back later.”
    Dermot brightened. “Grand idea, Pat. But you can’t be getting behind the wheel.”
    Pat claimed total sobriety, but Dermot would hear nothing of it.
    â€œFine, Aiden can drive me. He finally got his license and he just got here so he don’t have a sign on him. I’ll finish this and then we’ll go.” Pat slashed the knife back and forth through the tomatoes in the can then dumped them into the soup. He turned, knife in hand, tomato juice dripping to the floor, just as Mercedes walked into the kitchen.
    Mercedes stopped, her eyes on the knife. Her normally pale face went white.
    â€œYou okay, Aunt Merce?” Pat reached out to her but then noticed the mess he was making and grabbed a tea towel. After wiping the floor he stood back up, dirty knife in one hand, soiled cloth in the other. He dropped them both into the sink.
    Mercedes looked startled for a second, then her gaze shifted to Pat’s face and her mouth assumed its usual scowl of displeasure where he was concerned. “A fine mess,” she muttered, although her voice lacked its usual conviction.
    For a moment, Pat looked hurt. Then he brushed past her to go find Aiden.
    Mercedes buttoned her coat up to her neck and surveyed the counter. “Looks like an early night. Just as well. There’s way too much drinking on God’s birthday anyway.”
    Bold with drink and beyond caring, Annie grabbed a jug of water and raised it high. “Jesus have mercy on us and turn this here water into wine. In the name of the Father, the Son and Holy Ghost, Amen.”
    Lucinda took the jug from her hand. “Don’t be sacrilegious, Annie.”
    â€œI see they’re teaching you some fine habits out in Alberta,” Mercedes scolded. “What else could you expect in a province led by the likes of that heathen Klein?”
    Annie’s urge to spar died a quick death. She and Mercedes rarely spoke anymore and she had no desire to change that. She went to the stove to stir the soup.
    â€œNow, Mercedes,” said Dermot. “Jesus don’t mind a little celebration.”
    â€œIf you run out of liquor, the celebrating will be over whether you like it or not.”
    â€œNo worry there. We got our Pat on the case.” He took Lucinda’s arm. “Come on down to the basement and we’ll see if there’s something hid away.”
    â€œNever known that boy to run out of drink, Irish Paddy that he is,” Mercedes called after them as they went to the stairs.
    At the front door she came face to face with Pat, truck keys in hand. “You’ve no sense, have you?” she bit into him. “Put those keys away, you loaded sot!”
    The combination of booze and resentment made for a long-avoided confrontation.
    â€œJesus, look who it is, Mother Mary Fucking Mercedes! Leave me alone and mind your own goddamn business. You’d drive Christ himself to the bottle, you would.”
    Mercedes glared at him. “Driving in your condition! You better watch out, you good-for-nothing fool.” She charged from the house, almost bumping into Sadie Griffin who was listening intently on the