Irish Eyes

By Anne Mikusinski and Ayesha Haqqiqa

Jack sat at his desk trying to enjoy a peaceful lunch.  It was kind of impossible though, with the noise and cheers of the St Patrick’s Day parade going on in the street below.  St. Patrick’s Day...Jack sighed.  The very thought of March 17 brought back a watershed of memories, the majority of them either painful or very fuzzy.  

  He looked up when he heard a knock at his door, and saw Nora standing there, looking lovely (although Jack didn't dare says so) in a dark green suit that accentuated her blonde hair...

"What?" Nora smiled as she walked up to his desk, "you're not out celebrating with the Sons of Erin?"

Jack rubbed his neck. "No, I'm working on trying to put away the Sons of B*tches that murdered the McCaffee girl.”

Thinking about that case while eating will give you indigestion, Jack."   She sat in the big chair in front of his desk, and shook her head.  "And you look like you're stressed out enough already--haven't you been sleeping?"

Jack muttered something through a mouthful of sandwich.   "...sleep when I'm dead."  was all Nora could make out.

"Yes, I'm sure you will--and you'll be dead sooner than later if you don't ease up...” She thought a minute, then asked him. "So, would you have any plans this evenin' Mr. McCoy, or would you like to show an old Irish widow a good time on this fine feast day?"

Jack choked on his sandwich, and hurriedly took a drink of his soda.

“Really, Nora, I’ve go so much to do…”

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull prosecutor,” Nora said. “I could order you to take some of those accumulated vacation days you have coming.” She raised a hand as Jack started to protest. “I said I could, not that I would. But you do need to drag yourself away from Hogan Place for a while, and have some fun! St. Patrick’s Day has always been one day out of the year when I felt I had the license to kick back my heels and just feel good!”

“The Saint has not been so friendly to me,” Jack said. “From the time I was forced to ride on the PBA float in Chicago at age three, I had to work, and work hard, on March 17. It’s never been a day of celebration, just drudgery for me.”

“Then it’s time to break old habits,” Nora said. “I know of this great little Irish pub. Good food, pleasant atmosphere, and green beer today!”

“I don’t drink beer, green or otherwise, much anymore,” Jack said. He sighed and looked at Nora’s determined face. “You’re not taking no for an answer, are you?”

Nora smiled at him sweetly. “Come by my office at five. We’ll leave from there.”

As driven as Jack was to make headway on the case, he found it hard to concentrate for the rest of the day. Nora's invitation really threw him. She actually wanted to go out for the evening...with him! And he had the distinct impression that work would not be discussed. This was a social outing...she wanted to "celebrate" she said...with him.

"Oh, get a grip, McCoy" he told himself. "She probably feels sorry for you, wants you to relax before you really mess up this case and hurt the office! That's all it is...no way someone as classy as she is could be interested in an old dog like you...."

Jack sighed, and willed the time to go faster, so that five o’ clock would come, and he could get the whole thing over with.

He went to her office and knocked at the door. She was busy reading some papers, but when she saw him, she put them down and smiled.

“Ah, you look more relaxed already,” she said as she got up from behind the desk.

Jack shook his head. “I look more tired, that’s all.” But he took a moment to straighten his tie.

She picked up a small green shamrock pin and put it on his lapel. “There. Now you’ll pass muster at Rosie O’Grady’s. Have you ever gone there?”

Jack sighed. “Not that I recall,” he said. “But I’ve heard it’s a real Irish pub, run and staffed by people from the Auld Sod.”

“That it is,” Nora said as she took the papers from her desk and placed them in a file. “Well, Mr. McCoy, are you ready to dine on corned beef and cabbage, or is it Irish stew you have a hankerin’ for?”

Jack just smiled. What he had a hankerin’ for was to go home and forget it was March 17, but he didn’t tell Nora that.

Nora and Jack waited for the notoriously slow Hogan Place elevator, each lost in their own thoughts.  Nora was humming something softly, which made Jack smile.  He kept stealing little glances at her.  "The years have been kinder to her than to me, I'm afraid." He thought.  "She still reminds me so much of that earnest young woman in law school...so keen to change the world...not jaded...” He sighed, and Nora glanced over, raising her eyebrows questioningly. 

"What?"  she asked him

Jack smiled.  "Well, I was kind of hoping that this place has more than Irish Stew and Corned Beef...” he shuddered slightly.  "I can't remember when we didn't have them at least once a week growing up...and the leftovers!  We had Rueben sandwiches and hash until Easter!" 

Nora laughed and shook her head.  "Don't worry Counselor...I understand they have Fresh North Atlantic salmon and New potatoes in a dill sauce.... green, of course."

"Oh, god...” Jack muttered, just as the bell pinged, the doors opened, and they both stepped inside the elevator.

It was snowing lightly when they stepped out of Hogan Place, and Jack insisted on Nora waiting just outside the door, while he stepped to the curb to hail a cab.

"He may be older,” she thought, "but he's still a gentleman...and a very handsome one at that!"

A yellow cab pulled up a few minutes later, and Jack motioned to Nora, and held the door open for her as she got inside. She leaned forward to give the cabbie directions to Rosie O' Grady's and then settled back against the leather seat.

"I have to know Nora, " Jack said softly. "Why did you ask me out tonight? Out of pity?"

Nora looked at Jack in disbelief. Was it possible the man didn’t know?

“No Jack,” she said finally. “The last thing I feel for you is pity. I just thought you’d like to go out—you know, for old time’s sake.” She smiled and rested her hand on his.

Jack looked at her hand and shook his head. “The years have been better to you than to me, Nora,” he said. “It’s nice of you to think kindly of an old friend tonight.”

“Maybe after a visit to Rosie O’Grady’s you won’t feel so old,” Nora said gently.

He looked at her and smiled wanly. “Well, for your sake, I’ll give it a go.”

The cab stopped outside of Rosie O Grady's.  Nora dug in her purse to pay the fare, but Jack put a restraining hand on her arm.    "I've got it--" he leaned forward and paid the cabbie, then, got out of the car, signaling for Nora to wait for him to walk around and open the door for her.

He held out a hand to help her out of the cab, and as she stepped out onto the curb, she slipped on the snow, and fell against him for a moment.  He put an arm around her to steady her. 

"You ok? " He asked, concerned, not moving his arm away. 

"Um...yes, thanks," Nora murmured...a little unsettled at his closeness.  She knew she was blushing, and there was nothing she could do to hide it. 

Jack moved his arm up to her shoulders and gave her a squeeze as they began to walk towards the doorway of Rosie O’ Grady's.  "In case you slip again," he said. Nora thought his voice might have sounded just a little huskier than it had a moment ago.

Jack opened the door, and was assaulted by the noise and heat of the pub. He looked at Nora incredulously. “You want to go in here?” he asked.

“Of course,” Nora laughed. She walked in, followed by a reluctant Jack.

A red-haired young man in shirtsleeves, wearing green suspenders, came up to them. “Nora, me darlin’!” he cried. “I expected to see you here tonight, but not on the arm of a dashing gentleman!”

“Patrick, this is Jack McCoy,” Nora said, introducing them.

“Ah, Black Irish,” Patrick said, extending a hand. “Good to see you on this blessed Saint’s Day. Come this way, and I’ll seat ya in the corner, where you can watch all the fun!”

Patrick led the way through the crowded pub to a small table near a large map of Ireland. “And is it Guinness tonight, Nora?”

“Yes,” she said. “What would like, Jack?”

“A Guinness won’t hurt, I guess,” he mumbled.

“Very good, “ Patrick said. “Here’s the menus, if you’d care to have a wee bite to eat.” He laid the cards on the table and left.

“Awfully loud in here,” Jack muttered. He studied the menu. “Ah, good, they have hamburgers.”

“A hamburger? On St. Patrick’s Day? I can understand why you don’t want the traditional food, but you ought to order something fancier than a hamburger!”

“I’m sure that Rosie’s hamburgers are special,” Jack said. “Besides, if I’m going to drink stout—“

His words were interrupted by the drone of Irish pipes. A band had come up on the stage not far from their table, and was beginning the opening lines of “Star of the County Down”.

“In Banbridge Town in the County Down

One mornin’ last July

From a boreen green came a sweet Colleen

And she smiled as she passed me by…”

Jack looked at Nora, who was all-aglow, listening to the music. “You’re the star of this county, and the gem of Hogan Place,” he said quietly.

“What, Jack?” Nora looked at him. “You’ll have to speak louder.”

“One of my favorite tunes,” Jack said, leaning over so she could hear. “I love the lyrics—the lass who’s the gem of Ireland and star of County Down.”

“Oh yes,” Nora smiled. She was tapping her feet to the music, and Jack watched her.

"If I didn't have two left feet," Jack thought...."I'd ask her to dance with me, just to have an excuse to hold her in my arms." He sighed, glad it was too loud for Nora to hear him.  She applauded enthusiastically at the end of the song.

  The singer stepped up to the mike, smiling.  "Happy St. Paddy's Day to all you lads and lasses,” he cried, then, spotting Nora, he announced,  "And I see that we are honored to have Ms. Nora Lewin, the District Attorney of our fair county  (and a lovely Irish lass herself) joinin' us this evening.  Would you have any requests, dear lady?"

  Nora was a little embarrassed but she smiled as she said, “How about Carrickfergus?”

The ballad began, softer this time, which made conversation a little easier.

  "So, " Nora asked him, "what do you think of this place?"

Jack took a sip of his Guinness. “A nice, homey place,” he said, looking around. “Though it’s loud and crowded tonight.” He sighed and looked at his stout. “I guess I’m getting too old for the bar scene.”

Nora looked at him. “You’re as young as you feel, Jack,” she said. “And I’ve always thought of you as a youthful person.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Jack saluted her with his glass before taking a sip. “I don’t see it myself.”

“It’s in your outlook,” Nora said as she sipped her stout. “I’ve watched you in the courtroom argue rings around younger defense attorneys. You still have the fire and determination I remember from days gone by.”

Jack looked at her with hope in his heart. Maybe Nora really did see something in him that he didn't. Something he thought had long faded away. And if she did, how does she see me as a man, he wondered. Would she be interested in spending time with me? As more than just a co-worker? He was so lost in thought, that he didn't realize that someone had stopped by their table to say "hello".

"Well, this is interesting, counselors..." The slick polished tone of Barry Peck greeted them. "This music is great! Hey Jack, you wouldn't mind if I ‘borrowed’ your DA for a dance, would you?"

“Barry, you know there’s no room to dance at Rosie O’Grady’s!” Nora said, playfully punching him in the arm. “You know better than that! Go over and order your Guinness and enjoy the music!”

“There’s no loss for trying,” Barry’s grin was oily. “’Til next time, Ms. Lewin!” He sauntered off to the bar.

“Stupid SOB,” Jack muttered.

“Oh, he’s not that bad, Jack. As a lawyer he’s pretty lame, but as a person he’s all right. He’s a regular here.”

Jack looked at her. “I guess you are, too.”

“I only come by once a week—but I don’t need to justify this to you!” Nora looked perturbed. Luckily, their food came just then, and they ate in silence as the band played “The Orange and the Green”.

Jack felt as happy as the people of Londonderry during The Troubles. He had ruined what was a rather pleasant evening, and why? Because he was mad that Nora saw Barry Peck every week in this pub. He sighed and shook his head.

“Yes, Jack?” Nora asked anxiously.

“Oh, I was just thinking. You said I acted young. Well, I just proved it to myself.” He took a sip of Guinness. “I can’t believe I felt a pang of jealousy because Barry Peck was here, asking you to dance.”

Nora took a sip of stout and smiled to herself. “It was a surprise to you, to see him, of all people, at Rosie O’Grady’s. He says he’s Irish on his mother’s side, but I don’t know if I believe him. And don’t worry, Jack. Every time he comes in here, he asks me to dance, and I always turn him down. It’s become a sort of ritual between us, I guess.”

“Oh.” For some reason, Jack felt better. “So you don’t like to dance?”

“Oh, I like to dance, all right,” Nora said, “but this isn’t the place, and tonight is not the time. I don’t do Irish jigs. I prefer slow dances, holding on to my partner.” She looked at Jack and smiled.

Jack smiled back. “Well, the Arthur Murray course I took in my youth has served me well over the years. And slow dancing—well, that’s about my speed anymore. But I do like to listen to this music.” He turned and watched the band as they segued from “The Orange and the Green” into some wild improvisation of their own. He clapped his hands to the beat, and then applauded heartily as the band finished their set.

He turned back to Nora. “Now perhaps we can enjoy each other’s company without distraction for a while.”

So they talked as they enjoyed their dinner, trying to avoid work related subjects, about books they had read, and movies that they had seen or wanted to see, TV programs that they watched when they each had a moment to breathe.  

Neither of them wanted to leave after they finished their dinner, and they both ordered Irish Coffee, and listened to the band which had switched over to playing only ballads as it got later and later.  Jack looked surprised when he glanced at his watch after the band took another break.

“Nora, it’s 11:30”

Nora looked startled. “My goodness, I would never have thought that!” She sighed, and smiled at Jack. “This has been a very enjoyable evening.”

“For me, too,” Jack smiled back.

“But there’s always work to do on the morrow, so, much as I regret it, I think we’d better leave,” Nora said.

“Let me take the check,” Jack said. “I know you asked me out, but it was to make sure I had a good St. Patrick’s Day. Picking up the tab will show you I did.” He sighed when Nora nodded.

It had gotten colder outside, and Jack instinctively put his arm around her as they watched for a cab to pass. Jack soon saw one and escorted Nora inside.

“Come in for a moment?” she asked when they got to her address.

Jack raised his eyebrows and grinned.  "What are you suggesting, Ms. Lewin?"

 Nora hit him on the arm, blushing. "Coffee, Mr. McCoy.  I am an honorable woman, with nothing but the purest intentions."   They were both laughing as he helped her out of the cab and they walked into her building.

  "Nice apartment."  Jack looked around the place as he helped Nora off with her coat.   The living room was big, and tastefully furnished.  A real, stone fireplace was against one wall, a big comfortable couch against another.  One whole wall of the big room was a window that looked out on the city skyline. 

"Yes, I do like it here, " Nora told him. "Still, it seems a little too big for just me, especially since Daniel's death.  It's lonely sometimes..." she trailed off

"If I were any kind of man, " Jack thought, "I'd take her in my arms and let her know how I really felt.  That she could be with me and she'd never be lonely.  He sighed. "Why is it that I never have trouble speaking my mind in the courtroom, but when it comes to women..."

“Would you like tea or coffee, Jack?"  Nora's question interrupted his thoughts. 

"Whatever you're having is fine..." 

Nora wandered over to her stereo...and soft jazz filled the room.  "Relax and make yourself comfortable, " she told him as she walked into the kitchen..."I'll be right back."

Jack stood at the window, watching the lights of the city. The wind had picked up, and it was snowing heavier now, which made the apartment seem all the more cozy.

“Here you are.” Nora came up beside him with a cup of tea. “Chamomile. It always helps me relax at the end of an exciting day.”

“Thanks, Nora.” Jack took the cup, and went to sit down in a chair.

“No,” Nora said, sitting down on the sofa and patting the place beside her. “Come over here…it’s closer to the coffee table, so you don’t have to balance the cup in your lap.”

Jack smiled and came over the sofa. He leaned back on the soft cushions and sighed. “I must tell you, Nora, that you broke the St. Patrick’s Day jinx for me. I actually had a good time.” He looked at her and smiled.

“I thought you would.” Nora took a hasty sip of tea. Those eyes, looking into hers, sent a shiver down her spine.

“There’s only one thing I can think of that would make the evening complete.” Jack sat down his tea. “And that’s to slow dance to this beautiful tune that’s starting. Nora, would you do me the honor?”

Nora smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They stood, and he cradled her in his arms as he listened to the lyrics.

“No need to tell me now, what makes the world go round,

When, at the sight of you, my heart begins to pound, and pound

So, won't you tell me when, we can meet again,

Sunday, Monday, or always...

If you're satisfied, I'll be by your side…

Sunday, Monday, or always...”

As the song ended, Jack took Nora’s face in his hands. He bent his head and lightly pressed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. They kissed again, deeply this time, as the snowfall turned into a blizzard of white.

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