Boston, Massachusetts
December 1931
Seamus Reardon stubbed out his Chesterfield in the ashtray and blew out a plume of smoke on a long exhale. He and his brother, John, were the only occupants of the maternity ward waiting room of Massachusetts General Hospital. John folded the issue of the Boston Globe he was reading and fanned the smoke.
“How much longer, ya think?” Seamus checked his watch for the umpteenth time.
“These things take a while. That bulldog of a nurse said she’d likely be deliverin’ well into the night.”
“Ya, well, I’ve got a truck full of Kentucky’s finest bein’ delivered in three hours. Mr. Kennedy doesn’t like excuses.”
“Where’s the drop off?”
“Back of Trinity church.” Seamus chuckled at his brother’s shocked expression.
“What? Half the force is helping me deliver the whiskey. There’s no risk.” Seamus dismissed him.
“Still, doing it right under Curley’s nose is brazen, even for you.”
“We got him elected, John. I’ll take delivery in the middle of Copley Square if it suits me.”
“I’ll meet your boys if I have to. You stay here with Dorcas. Yer little girl could arrive any minute,” John teased.
“It better be a boy. That’s all I’m going to say about that,” Seamus grumbled.
“You’d pry the unicorn off the statehouse roof and give it to your little girl if she wanted it, and you know it.”
“I’m twenty-five years old, and I’ve got gray hair. I don’t need a little girl adding to my worries.”
Seamus returned to his seat next to his brother just as an attractive young nurse entered the room.
“Now that’s more like it.” Seamus gave the nurse a leering glance.
She cast a shy glance at John Reardon and blushed before turning her attention to Seamus.
“Congratulations Mr. Reardon. You have a son. Your wife said he’s to be named Patrick.”
“Aye.” Seamus blew out a breath and clapped his brother on the back. “Patrick John.”
John barely heard his brother’s honorific. The petite blue-eyed nurse had him snared. “What’s yer name, lass?”
“Bridget, sir.” She smiled. He smiled. That was it for John Reardon.
“Come on.” Seamus urged and handed his brother one of the Cuban cigars he’d purchased from the tobacconist in the lobby. “Let’s go see the baby and Dorcas. We have plenty of time to meet the boys at the church and get that shipment handled.
“You can peg the pretty nurse tomorrow,” Seamus continued after she had left the waiting room.
“Watch yerself, Seamus. Yer talkin’ about the woman I’m going to marry.”
John’s brother chuckled. “Found yer soulmate at the ripe old age of twenty did ya?” He glanced up to the ceiling. “A son. Thank you, Jaysus.”
“Just what we Reardons need.” John shook his head. “Another troublemaker in the family.”