O'Connell Bridge - Pt. 18

The text read: “There’s one more thing for you to do. Please report to Wilmington Health for a physical. Your appointment is for 8:30 AM, June 22. You are off duty that day. Ask for Doctor Zorman. You will sign a release sending your information to O’Neil Milling Corporation; the doctor’s office has the proper address and fax information.”

LC stared at his phone. “Now what? Mom. I better talk to her before Mike does if he hasn’t already.” He sat down on the bottom step of the stairway and dialed his phone to his mother’s cell phone. She answered in one ring.

“So, how is my son who never calls?”

“Hello to you too, mom. I’ve tried to call before, but you’re always busy.”

His mother answered. “Keeping active keeps me young. So how much do you need?”

Well, at least Mike hasn’t talked to her yet. “No money, mom. Just wanted y’all to know I’m taking a trip to Ireland in two weeks.”

“Hit the lottery?”

LC laughed. “Kinda, it’s a corporate thing; I have been chosen to go to Dublin via the sponsorship of O’Neil Milling Company and I don’t really know why. I don’t remember applying to them for scholarship money, although I saw on the internet that they often are generous toward colleges.”

“It has to be a mistake, or a con game.” Her voice was skeptical.

“Honestly, I thought so too. And, Mike is against it. Willie kinda shrugged it off; and I haven’t told the girls.”

“I will next weekend,” his mother said. “They’re so busy with the kids they hardly even see the light of day. You should go see your nephews and nieces in Raleigh.”

“Mom, I’ve been in school, and work a night job. It’s hard to get away. Especially a two hour trip each way, when I could be studying or, importantly, sleeping.”

“Liam, they’re your sisters. I swear you’re the most uncommunicative son I have. So, I suppose there’s some girl involved with this sudden trip?”

LC was getting uncomfortable. “Not in the sense you mean. The owner of the corporation is Eleanor D. O’Neil—at best I can guess she’s in her 80s.”

“I’ll have Mike look into it.”

“Mom. I already did. And I told Mike.”

“I thought you said he was against it.”

“Mike’s against everything.”

“Liam Brennan. I swear.” She obviously held the phone away from her and LC overheard her say. “No, I’ll be right there. It’s my youngest son, now he’s scampering out of the country.” She came back on the line. “I need to run. I’ll tell your dad when he gets in from the golf course. I’m glad you called, please do again. Oh, and I guess you graduated okay, right? I meant to send a card, if I go into town today I’ll get you Target gift card or something for being a college graduate. What was your major again.”

“Pre-med, mom, a science degree. Bio-Chemistry.”

“If you don’t need anything, I have some folks waiting for me.”

“Right mom, go back to the card game. Bye.” He disconnected. “I wonder if I can divorce my family.”

Dana came out of the ground floor apartment and sat down next to him. “Can I help?”

“Oh, hey, Dana. I doubt it. Just talked to my mother. It’s a struggle not to want to strangle her. It’s probably unnatural for a boy to feel that way about his mother.”

Dana let a lock of black hair fall over her face. “I suppose so.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist. “I could use some consoling, too. My boss won’t process my application for a permanent position. She says traveling nurses are needed. I could quit and reapply, but that might mean months without a paycheck.” She squeezed his waist.

“I’ve got things to get done, Dana. This won’t work.” LC suddenly stood up and grasped the handrail. “I’m sorry.”

Dana looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you? Oh, dear Lord, I wish I had a man like you. No, it’s me who’s sorry. Go to her LC, tell her how you feel.”

“I don’t even know where she is. Boston and an aunt is all I know. I tried her cell, but it’s been disconnected.” He walked on up the stairs, closed the door, and went into his room and fell on the bed on top of a letter.

An hour later, he got up and saw the wrinkled business envelope from his bank. He tore the envelope open expecting insurance information or even an overdraft.

“Mr. Brennan. The loan on your vehicle has been paid in full. The vehicle title will be forwarded to this address within 10 business days.” He tossed the letter on the dresser. “What else?”

There was a knock on the trim around his bedroom door. LC turned his head quickly. “Murphy, what are you doing here.”

“I scored a bucket of chicken off of the buffet today, like the chef made too much. And that convention cleared out early. I also got a 12 of Bud Light. They had a prepaid bar and it was left over, kinda just sitting there in a corner.”

“Murph, go home. Wait a minute, have you met Dana downstairs? She’s tall with dark hair and a knockout figure, if you know what I mean.”

Murphy was suddenly interested. “No, why?”

“You need to meet her. Tell her I sent you; she and I are buddies. Listen, she’s a nurse and can look at your sore hand.”

“I don’t have a sore hand.”

LC picked up an old textbook and slammed against Murphy’s fingers—which were on his door jam.

“Hey, why’d you do that?” Murphy cried. “You mighta broke a finger.” He held his hand up examining his fingers.

“So you can tell her about your hand when you share your chicken with her.”

“Oh.” He thought for a second. “That’s a great idea.”

LC grinned. “Go forth my child. Let me help you load up your supplies.”

Murphy, with LC’s help, balanced the bucket of chicken and beer in one arm so Murphy could hold the other hand in the air.

“I’ll open the door for you. Tell her I caught your hand in the door jam. Which is the truth.”

Murphy smiled. “Cool.”

LC went back to his room and picked up his laptop and placed it on the bar. “I gotta try to find Aunt Tess. I don’t remember if Cait mentioned relatives on the Dugan side. She said her dad died in a boating accident with an uncle, I think. That’d have to be his cousin, I guess.”

After a white page and Google search, LC found a dozen likely entries for Tess Dugan. None of who lived in Boston, although one lived in West Somerville, Massachusetts. “Tracing female names is almost impossible.” He tried to trace the name to a phone number or an address, but when the pop up asked for him to join and pay a charge for the information, he backed out of the link. “Okay. Maybe that’s it?”

“I just hope the aunt has a Dugan last name.”

“I’ll try the old way.” He called directory information. “Tess Dugan in Somerville, Massachusetts.” He accepted the directory service charge and got a phone number. Seconds later he dialed the digits he had just received.

An elderly voice answered. “Hello, this is LC Brennan. I hope I have the right Tess Dugan and that Caitlin Dugan is there.”

There was a long pause on the line and then the voice answered. “I’m sorry, but you’ve got the wrong number. I get a lot of those for the other Tess Dugan calls. I think she must have an unlisted number or something.”

“Sorry to bother you.” LC disconnected. “Well, that burns it.”

He finally checked the Facebook listings for Tess Dugan and for Caitlin, although he knew Caitlin rarely checked her Facebook account. He went ahead and posted, “Call me,” in a personal message. As for Tess, there were a hundred with variations.

Frustrated, he researched the boating accident Caitlin told him about. “Layton Dugan of suburban Boston, perished in a fishing accident on the Chesapeake River when his Grady White Freedom model fishing boat capsized in a thunderstorm.” He thought for a second. Then researched Grady White Freedom. “A Grady White is a pretty big craft. Most of that model are at least 30 feet. I can’t believe he was alone. The story went on to say that Dugan left behind a minor child, who was in the care of relatives. “Tess.”

“Cait said her uncle was with him when her dad was killed. They both drowned. The article only says one. She musta lived with the uncle’s wife, her aunt Tess. What’s Tess’s last name? And, what happened to the uncle?”

He went back to the online white pages and found 200 pages of listings for Dugan, but only 20 names in Somerville, Massachusetts or the vicinity, or variations of the name. He used a prepaid Visa—which had very little cash left available to pay for premium service, and began to write down phone numbers. Finally, he started the process of calling. “Okay, if a male answers, I will assume it’s a wrong number. If a female answers, I’ll ask all the pertinent information.”

The first five he dialed were men. He got 10 disconnected, then he got two females who declared they did not know a Tess or Caitlin Dugan. All this was followed by a series of no answers. Finally, a female answered.

LC, tired by this time, stumbled through saying. “This is LC Brennan, I’m hoping I got the right number. I’m searching for Caitlin Dugan, who is supposed to be staying with Tess, an Aunt Tess.”

The female voice said. “Why are you calling this person?”

“I’m a friend of hers from school in North Carolina, and I would really like to speak with her. If nothing else but to discuss our apartment house.”

“She’s not here, and there’s no Tess here. I don’t expect a person of that name to come here. Your friend probably went with other friends to a waterpark or the beach. I’ll bet she knows you’re looking for her and she’s running away, but if I see anyone of that name, I’ll leave the message.”

LC thought—wacko. “Thanks. I guess that’s all I can ask.”

“Good bye.” She hung up.

“So much for Aunt Tess; an expensive exercise in futility. Well, I know where she isn’t.”

His phone chirped. LC glanced at the ID and saw that it was Mike. “Well that’s unusual.” He answered. “Hey, Mike.”

“So you talked to mom.”

“Yeah.”

“She said you were rude.”

“I swear, Mike, I was as civil as I could be, she just takes me the wrong way sometimes.”

“She said you were too busy to call your sisters, but not to busy to go running off overseas.”

“I’ll call them.”

“Too late, she already did. She told me that she told them you didn’t want to call them cause you were too busy.”

LC rubbed his head. “That’s not what I said, and you know it.”

“Well, mom’s upset.”

“She blew me off. Had to get back to a card game or something.”

“Before you go running off to wherever, you need to take time and make it right. She shouldn’t be upset like that.”

LC tipped over a barstool. “What are you talking about?”

“Listen, they’re not getting any younger. You have to be careful what you say around them.”

“I’ll send a card.” LC spouted, “I’ll send them a card from Ireland.”

“That’d be okay. But, you might want to send a happiness card before you leave.”

“Right. Hey, when I leave my truck with you, I’ll put the keys under the floor mat and take a taxi or something to the airport. By the way, the truck is free and clear and paid for, so no payments will be coming due and our lease is paid through the end of July.”

There was silence on the line, then Mike said, “But, you still don’t have a job when you get back.”

“If I get into a med program at Carolina I won’t be coming back to Wilmington. If that fails, the hospital almost guaranteed me a job as an orderly when I get back.”

“You haven’t got any offers for grad school yet so don’t get your hopes up about the hospital having something available. Better to have a job now.”

“I’m leaving the 25th Mike, get over it.”

“Jus say’n.”

“I gotta go Mike, time for me to get some sleep before I go to work, like you say, I need a job.” LC clicked off. He was too angry to sleep so he got a beer out of the refrigerator and started to sit on the couch to watch TV. “Phone is about dead.” He plugged his phone into the charger and plugged the charger in next to his bed and went back to the living room to watch a sitcom.

Mac woke him at 8:00 PM and LC quickly showered and drove to the ER. His cell phone remained plugged into the wall next to his bed. A missed call from an unknown number was the only call he received.

To be continued...