In 1969 Thomas Finn Callahan, then a young short order cook, fled Ireland after being accused of raping and murdering a young Catholic girl. Even though he was no where near the crime, Thomas looked enough like the perpetrator that the local constabulary wanted him.
Thomas changed his name to his mother's maiden name, O'Hagan and arrived in the United States on a freighter as the ship's cook apprentice. He worked his way around the U.S. until he arrived in northern California. He found that the community needed a good Irish bar. Naming it after his dear departed mother Thomas started Alice O'Hagan's Irish Pub and Grill, serving good Irish home cooking and locally brewed beers. After Tommy dropping the name Alice, O'Hagan's Pub and Grill's popularity grew, it became a place to see and be seen and a staple restaurant in several mall chains.
The noise and the live music struck Sawyer like a wave as he opened the door. The place was hopping, the long bar was filled with college aged students who mingled with the crowd of thirty-somethings desperately trying to hold onto their youth by hanging out in a trendy bar and grill. This was the crowd that Walt catered to.
Sawyer made his way to the bar, squeezing between a tall thin brunette sheathed in a black knee length dress with long legs in strappy heels, and an over weight man who thought loud floral print Hawaiian shirts were still in fashion. He gently touched the small of her back as he eased past her, careful to not let his hand linger. "Excuse me," he said. His touch interrupted her conversation with a seated red headed woman decked out in a shimmering gold dress whose hem barely covered her crotch. The brunette looked over shoulder, and he could see she was about to make a snide comment instead she frowned and went back to her conversation.
Sawyer grunted, and ordered whiskey on the rocks. As he waited for his drink, he scanned the crowd looking for his hosts. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He extracted it trying not to bump into the woman.
To your left, near the stage, along the wall, back three tables,
Zoe texted. He held up his phone, acknowledged the message. He accepted the drink, and made his way through the crowd to the table. It was a round booth capable of holding six people; there were two empty glasses in front of both Zoe and her husband Walt. Sawyer slid into the booth next to Zoe, planting a friendly kiss on her cheek, reaching across the table to shake Walt's hand.
"About time you got here," she said loud enough to be heard over the music.
"It takes time to look this good," Sawyer said. "Oh honey, keep thinking that," Zoe remarked. Walt snorted, trying to keep his drink from spewing out through his nose. "I have to say Sawyer, those are some nice duds," she said looking him over. He had dressed in new jeans, and black button front club shirt courtesy of Durham's Haberdashery.
Sawyer shrugged, "I've decided to repent my heathen ways and stoop so low to become a slave to fashion."
"Well it looks good, keep slavin away," Zoe said. The trio sat and chatted as the live band finished out their set. A plump red headed woman in jeans and a T-shirt plopped down next to Walt waving towards the waitress. She had a wide pretty face, with pale skin and a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
"Ah Bridget, yer singin is so grand that even the angels are weeping," Sawyer said in his best Irish brogue, smiling at Walt's sister. Zoe muttered something under her breath about angels committing suicide, but it was obvious that Bridget ignored the comment.
"And you lie like a rug," Bridget said taking Walt's drink and downing half of it. She narrowed her eyes and looked at Sawyer. "So Michael, Zoe tells us yer banging the hospital staff now."
Sawyer was always refreshed by Bridget's straight forwardness. "I heard you were sucking off the drummer, so I took my broken heart, and my man parts elsewhere," Sawyer said sipping at his second whiskey and water. Bridget smiled as she raised Walt's glass in salute and drained the rest of the drink.
Half and hour later, after some friendly jabbing, Bridget was back on stage. She sang an old Irish dirge of love and loss, and the lamenting of a woman who had lost her husband in battle. Her throaty soulful voice brought the song to life that you could feel the woman's pain and brought tears to many eyes of the audience. Sawyer found himself singing along to the sad beautiful song, as she sang the last verse.
A flash of blonde hair by the bar caught Sawyer's attention. Leaning out of the booth he saw Kara talking to a group of women standing near the bar who were clearly not happy about standing. She was wearing a light blue halter-style dress that ended mid-thigh that hugged her curves, and accentuated her round ass. He felt Zoe's breasts on his arm and her warm breath on his neck as she leaned over to see what he was looking at.
"Which one, the red head?" Zoe asked. Sawyer shook his head. "The blonde?" Sawyer nodded. "Nice ass," Zoe said. "Need a wingman?" She asked adjusting her already low cut shirt to reveal more of her cleavage.
"Nope, watch this," he said grinning.
Hello beautiful, love the view.
You're here?She asked looking around the crowded bar.
Glad you like it, she said with a wiggle of her hips, where are you this place is packed?
To your left, towards the stage,he said. She turned and smiled when she saw him. Sawyer returned the smile.
I haven't been able to get you out of my mind.
She said biting her lip seductively.
Me either, so sashay that lovely ass over here,
he said, motioning with his fingers for her to come hither.
There's plenty of room, so bring your friends.
He nodded towards the group of women with her. Kara turned to the group and began motioning towards the booth. He could see one or two shake their heads, but the bar was full and all the other tables and booths were taken. When she won the discussion, Kara led five women of varying ages towards the booth.
"No. Effing. Way," Zoe said in disbelief. Sawyer only shrugged as he slid to the center of the booth, making room for the newcomers. Kara slipped in next to him, sliding as close as she could, forcing him to lift his arm onto the back of the seat. She took the opportunity to snuggle in close to him giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. Most of the women gave him the evil eye as they slid into the booth behind Kara.
"Zoe, Walt, this is Kara, the magician behind my new fashion sense," Sawyer said making the introductions. Kara reached over and shook Zoe's hand.
"Cheater," Zoe said to Sawyer, then looked back to Kara, "you girl, are a miracle worker," Zoe said leaning over Sawyer to talk to Kara. "I've never seen him dress better."
