Pat hurt all over, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. "I...I know somethings going on with him and Rachel Scott. First that b.i.t.c.h gets a scoop on us." He addressed Dylan. "Only you could have given it to her. Then you mope for two weeks, missing shifts, barking at everybody." He fisted his hands. "I just wanna know whats going on."
"Fair enough. Aidan?" Wiping his nose with his sleeve, he said, "Dont ask me. I come out to help and get hammered for it. I dont know what the h.e.l.l is happening, either." Reaching out, he touched Dylans arm. "Tell, us, Dyl. Please. I cant stand watching our family fall apart."
Liam turned eyes on Dylan. "You better do it, Dyl. Or I will."
Dylan stared at his bloodied brothers, and his eyes welled. So he said, "Ill tell you everything, but, Pat, you gotta promise to hear me out."
Pat nodded.
Turning, Dylan faced his youngest brother. "Aidan, you arent going to like it either."
"Ill listen. Anything to end this fighting."
Taking in a deep breath, Dylan let it out slowly. "I think Im in love with Rachel Scott."
Gasps from the oldest and youngest brothers, but they didnt say anything.
"It started when I had to interview her..." Hed already told them what the powers-that-be engineered and Rachels desire to be a foreign reporter. "Being with her so much, I see who she really is."
Pat opened his mouth, but Liam held up a hand. "No, Pat. Let him finish."
"Theres a whole different side to her..." He revealed her situation with her parents, her work at the studio, other stories shed written.
"Then she went on location for a story, and I followed her. We slept together."
"Christ." This from Pat.
Aidan sat stone-faced.
When Liam said nothing, Pat turned to him. "You knew about this?"
"Only up to when he joined her on location. I didnt know what went down from then on."
"And you didnt share it with me or Aidan. Why?"
Dylan motioned to the broken stools and gla.s.s. "Take a wild guess."
Softly, Liam said, "Finish the story, Dylan."
He told them about the book deal.
And how he and Rachel met to make love on St. Patricks Day.
He confessed how Rachel found his trashed column. And how she broke the agreement theyd made and threatened to use what hed told her in confidence.
"And so you gave her the pictures and stories to shut her up?" Pats tone was so defeated, it killed Dylan.
"Not quite."
He described Baileys role in the fiasco.
"That brings us to the last two weeks and why Ive been a bear. I thought Id feel better when it was all over, and I dont. I feel like something got ripped out of me."
"So," Liam put in when n.o.body else spoke. "How are we gonna support our brother, guys?"
Like an old man, Pat crawled to his feet. "Im not. He betrays all our secrets to his wh.o.r.e. Ma and Pa are gonna be devastated that hes in love with Benedict Arnold. You think Im gonna forgive this? Not a chance in h.e.l.l." Pat limped out the front door, letting it slam.
Dylan risked a glance at Aidan, whod also got to his feet. "You understand, A?" Dylan asked from the floor.
Aidan nodded, stood and looked down at Dylan. "I understand how this unfolded. But she almost got C.J. and Rory killed. I can never forgive her for that. Or you, for letting yourself fall for her. You have free will, you didnt have to do any of this. Im with Pat." He left by way of the back room.
Liam sat openmouthed. Dylan put his head between his knees.
After a while, they heard their mothers soft voice. "Oh, St. Mary in Heaven, whats happened to my boys?"
"Here, son, put this on your face." His mother handed him wrapped up ice from the refrigerator in her upstairs apartment, her voice wrought with concern.
Dylan took the bag, feeling like a man condemned to death. Hed started a physical brawl with his brothers and now was about to hurt his parents in a way hed vowed hed never do after their separation. He couldnt even meet their eyes; instead, he focused his gaze on the floor.
Pa said, "Tell us, boy."
"Its my fault." His tone was grim.
Sitting down next to him, his ma adjusted the ice on his face. "This can be fixed, Dylan. Everything can. Tell your mama and pa."
He had no willpower to refuse. In halting words, he confessed the same story hed given to his brothers. He could hear Pa swear under his breath, along with his mothers painful sighs. On top of what hed done to the guys, their suffering was almost too much to bear.
Then Mary Kate ONeil took him by the shoulders and made her face him. "Anythings forgivable, Dylan, me boy. We love you. Well always love you no matter what happened in the past."
Silence from across the room. He braved a glance at his pa. Paddy ONeil was red faced and stony. Beside him, his mother stiffened. "Isnt that right, Paddy? People who love each other do stupid things. Hurt each other. If you get my meaning."
Dylan thought he might vomit. Hed forced the recognition of his fathers mistakes out in the open, slicing a healed scar.
He burst into huge, hurting sobs.
Ma drew him to her chest and held him like she used to when he was little and got in trouble. The sobs continued.
After a few seconds, he felt a large masculine hand on his shoulder. "Thats right, boy, anythings forgivable. Dont worry. Were here for you."
With a heavy heart, Rachel typed the script for a segment on the latest revelations that plagued the governor of their neighboring state. She didnt much care what happened to him. Shed spent the last weeks on automatic pilot, not even enjoying the vignettes on the ONeils that made her ratings soar. She was haunted by her last meeting with Dylan and the angry words theyd spoken to each other. She knew full well they couldnt be taken back and would live forever inside her. But she continued with the script. Her job was all she had now. She just wished the constant ache in her shoulders and clutch in her stomach would go away.
There was a quick knock and then her office door opened; in walked John Walsh, the head of the network. Surprised to see him, she said, "Hi, John. What brings you down here?"
"You. Its time for a talk."
She nodded.
He sat in the chair in front of her desk. He was a diminutive man with a receding hairline and shrewd black eyes. He was also brilliant. "Last months ratings were sky-high. Your show was off the charts compared to any other news program of the year."
"Seriously? Thats great."
"Not only has your reporting on the governor been stellar, but the ONeil segments, especially as an exclusive, were fantastic." He angled his chin. "Howd you get that?"
"Cant ask me for my sources, boss," she said with a smile.
"Does it have something to do with the First Lady visiting you right before you aired the segments?"
Rachel just shrugged.
"Im pretty sure it was, since Clay Wainwrights secretary called me to say you were back on his core of reporters."
She had a vision of Bailey sitting in this very room, offering her a deal. The womans normally warm blue eyes, seen on television numerous times, had been cold as gla.s.s.
But her words were crisp, cold and final.
I want a promise from you.
What promise?
That youll leave my brother the h.e.l.l alone.
"Lets table that. Ive come because I have some good news. Theres an opening for a reporter in Syria. For a months stint. The jobs yours if you want it."
Where was the joy, the elation of achieving her goal? d.a.m.n, shed get back in the groove if it killed her. "Yes, I want it."
"Then you leave next Friday. Laura Littman will cover your show. Our contact on the other end will lead you through the scenarios youll want to cover. Take Crane and a cameraman."
"Got it."
He stood. "You proved you werent just another pretty face, Scott. Youre going places. Congratulations."
When he left, she sat there staring after him. For someone whod gotten exactly what she wanted, she was miserable.
CitySights Column on KPRAY "After weeks of investigation, interviews and encounters, my rea.s.sessment of KPRAY is as follows. Though I still believe that radio advertising is not the way to spread a Christian message, they do. Its that simple. More so, in my interviews with KPRAY staff and donors, Ive found nothing but a sincere desire to propagate their stated beliefs.
"When I met with the employees, they were open and honest, both in their disclosures and their umbrage at my questioning. I was shown offices and met with the CEO of the Board of Directors. None of these people could understand my problem with the station. And no one was faking it. The CEO believes in everything hes doing. So much so that he willingly agreed to contact donors (I rigged it so he couldnt cheat), and I spoke with seven people. One was an army veteran, another, a housewife with several children; both give regardless of the strain donations put on their budgets. A wealthy woman is leaving much of her sizable estate to KPRAY. At first I thought she was being duped. But shes a sharp, clear-minded woman who knows what she wants. A good number of eccentric people leave money to recipients who, in my eyes, might be questionable. However, this woman is firm in her beliefs. She abides by Matthews directive, "To whom much is given, much is expected. Finally, when protestors came to picket at my business, we invited them in and discussed, over coffee, what my objections were. Calmed, they told their own stories: KPRAY had used their Other Mission Fund to provide a surgery for one mans son, which healed his heart. Another man scrimped and saved, but his joy in donating was immense.
"So, folks, heres my take: I dont agree with radio proselytizing, but many good, honest people do. I accede to them. It is KPRAY and not KPREY. As always, send comments to [email protected]"
CitySights Column on Rachel Scott "Full disclosure: my family is unhappy with the past reporting of news anchor for NSMBC Rachel Scott. We feel she violated our privacy. Consequently, when I received a call from her network to give her a second column, to investigate her further, and the higher ups at CitySights agreed, I entered my time with her with misgivings. I was pleasantly surprised.
"Rachel Scott is a hard worker. Her day begins early morning, as she prepares for her show and future static segments that could be run anytime. She barely stops for meals but youd never know it from her energy and vivacity on-screen. Shes done what some consider fluff pieces, many of which turned out to have substance. When I saw she did a story on shoes, I laughed at her. But in the segment, she exposed her love of footwear, then heard from podiatrists who condemned high heels for women. She went on to issue a challenge to women of the world to vow not to wear any but low-heeled shoes, herself included. The website to propagate this has reached ten thousand women, who now have happier feet and backs.
"Her recent coverage of everybodys favorite beleaguered governor should win awards, not just because she broke the story but because of her tireless continued coverage.
"I could go on and on about her stories. But I want to share the personal side of this woman. Rachel Scott cares about her family. From world-renowned researchers and a doctor and a CEO to a beloved pediatrician, Scott lauds their achievements, oft times diminishing her own. Shes made her mark in the broadcasting world, on par with their successes.
"Finally, Rachel Scott believes in pay-it-forward. She covers do-good stories like Kids Day at the racetrack-and gave money to support it-and she also sponsors a dance cla.s.s for underprivileged kids. And not just with money. She gives her time to teach the cla.s.s. You should see the eight little girls in their new dance wear, supplied by you-know-who. I was impressed.
"So, although I have in the past criticized Scott, I found there is another side, which is only fair to report here. As always, send comments to "
Dylan stared at the computer, feeling good about his work for the first time in over two weeks. These two columns were the kinds of stories hed told in the past. He published the truth, even if he didnt like being proved wrong. Though hed made a mess of things with his family and, of course, Rachel-just thinking about her made his chest tight-hed pulled himself up by the bootstraps and gotten his act together.
The door to his house opened and in walked Liam. "Hi, buddy, how you doing?"
"Better."
Liam got them beers and sat down at the dining room table with him. "Writing?"
"Yeah. Take a look."
As Liam perused both columns, Dylan stood and went to the window. April had melted the March snow, replaced the cold with warmer temps, so a few crocuses poked their heads up in the yard. Despite the yawning sadness inside him, he wanted spring back in his life. Todays writing would start the process.
"Good for you, Dyl." He turned to find Liam had lazed back in the chair, and there was approval in his eyes. Thank G.o.d. "You did the right thing."
Dropping down across from his brother, he took a sip from his bottle. "Yeah, it feels good." He heard the underlying sadness in his tone and wondered if that would ever go away.
Liam took a long swig of beer, then said, "Theyll come around."
Patrick spoke to him only when necessary, and Aidan had absented himself from Dylans life and hadnt shown his face at the pub for several days. "Maybe."
"Bries p.i.s.sed at Pat for being a jerk. Even the lovebirds are having a spat over how they treated you."
"I didnt want to cause them any more problems."
"They caused themselves problems. You dont turn on family, no matter what."
"G.o.d, Liam, please dont fight with them because of me."
"Im not fighting with them, but they know how we feel."
"We?"
"Ma and Pa talked to them both. Told them they should come down off the holier-than-thou pedestals they put themselves on and take a look at their own mistakes."
He felt the familiar cramp in his stomach begin again. "A fine mess I made."