A prompt a week - 31. Charles gets a Gift - Prompt 402

Charles O’Clancey wanted to hide under his sheets and pretend the world didn’t exist. Life lately hadn’t exactly gone as planned. His lover of two years had broken up with him, his apartment building was going to be fumigated and he needed to vacate his place for a few days, and then there was the damn football game at the college where he was tackled wrong and his arm was broken. One more piece of bad news and Charles swore he would simply shoot himself to save the world the trouble of doing it to him.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! The alarm clock rang out and without thinking about it he swung his arm out and smashed the clock with his cast.

“Son of bitch! Just what I don’t need today.”

Charles looked at the cracked clock and shook his head. He carefully slipped out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom.

“At least I only need one hand to pee,” he groused as stood letting the fluid shoot out into the bowl. He shook off and walked over the sink, washed his hand, and stared into the mirror. His beard was coming in, but he wasn’t about to try to shave with his left hand. He looked carefully and noted he needed a haircut too. “Damn you PJ! Did you have to do leave when I needed you most?”

He took a sponge bath and got dressed. He was grateful for playing sports and having so much that was basically clothes he could pull on and wear. Hell, he even had a pair of sneakers that were Velcro. He slipped into a pair of green track pants and an over-sized green shirt. He looked at the remaining shirts, which were all skin tight and wouldn’t fit over his cast.

“Gotta remember to get laundry done.”

He slid on his sneakers and grabbed his wallet before heading out the door. It was a cold March day and he really wasn’t paying much attention to anything ‘til he spotted the huge green four leaf clover painted on the front door of the deli.

“Oh, God. Please, not today!”

Every person he looked at was wearing green.

“Son of bitch. It’s St. Patrick’s day. I completely forgot.”

Charles hung his head and wanted to cry. Usually he hid out on the holiday because invariably some idiot asked if he was Irish or a leprechaun. He just was tired of the crap he put up with. He was just about to turn around and head home when someone slammed into his side.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to hit you.” A red headed woman looked behind her and then noticed Charles.

“Uh … no worries.” Charles tried to move aside and head back to his place but she held on tight to his good arm.

“Oh you’re hurt. Poor guy. I always feel someone should have some luck on a day like today. Here,” she paused as she slipped something into Charles’ hand. “I hope it brings you luck.” She looked behind her again and then seemed to run off as quickly as she could.

Charles shook his head. She’d slipped a small plastic gold coin into his hand. On one side was a shamrock and on the other was written “Pass on the luck.” Charles shook his head, slipped the coin in his pocket and moved off down the street. Seeing a bunch of people all decked out in huge hats, green shirts, and giant green glasses, Charles ducked into the first open doorway he seen. It ended up being an Irish Pub.

“Sorry, we’re not open yet.” The bartender said from behind the bar. “Mary, someone forgot to close the door.”

“Um, can I just stay here a moment and then I promise I will move on.” Charles begged as he faced the big man behind the bar.

The bartender came out from behind the bar. He was about to say something when Charles’ stomach began to gurgle showing his hunger.

“Sounds like someone is hungry.”

Charles blushed as his stomach let out another loud gurgle. “Um, haven’t had a chance to get food yet.”

The bartender shook his head. “Should always eat something. Never a good idea to go running around on an empty stomach.”

“Wasn’t exactly by choice. Didn’t have anything left in the apartment.”

A short brunette woman walked in, took in Charles, then looked at the bartender.

“Okay, Mickey, who is your friend?” The brunette crossed her arms and stared at Mickey.

The bartender glanced at the brunette and then back to Charles.

“Well, Mary, to be honest, I don’t know. Poor bloke didn’t even eat yet. You should hear his stomach complain.”

Mary shook her head and turned to Charles. “Well, sorry, but ….”

Charles’ stomach began to gurgle and make loud noises again.

“See!” Mickey looked at Mary with a smile on his face.

“Fine. Have a seat. You need food that much is clear.” Mary turned and headed back into the kitchen.

“Um, I’m sorry did I miss something. I just wanted to hide out from the crowds for a moment. I don’t want to cause an issue for you or your wife.”

Mickey started to laugh. “Sorry, mate, that is my sister, not my wife.”

Charles took a moment to really look Mickey over. He was shorter but was well put together. He wore a deep emerald shirt with The McNally Irish Pub emblazoned on the front and a leather vest over it. His dark black jeans fit him like a glove. Charles noted with approval that he wore black biker boots. He moved with a sort of cocky walk and his dark brown eyes really could hold your attention.

“Take a seat, mate. Mary’ll be out in a moment with some food for you. Trust me, she can cook.”

Charles numbly took a seat.

“So, do you have a name?” Mickey asked as he walked to Charles’ side

“Charles. Charles O’Clancey. Sorry.”

Mickey held out his hand. “Mickey McNally. Nice to meet you.”

Charles took Mickey’s hand and felt spark shoot through his arm. He looked up and seen a surprised look on Mickey’s face as well.

“Mickey, you might as well sit down.” Mary came from the kitchen holding two large platters in her hand. “Fish and chips for both of you. I’ll get you both soda. Mick, you are going to be working the bar so no alcohol for you. And you, I don’t even know if you are old enough but we can’t serve alcohol yet.”

Mickey blushed and sat across from Charles.

“Good. Looks like you both made friends. Keep each other company ‘til we open.” Mary set the food the down and went behind the bar.

“Is your sister always like this?” Charles asked someone what in shock.

“Yes, I am. One of us has to keep things going and Mick’s luck sucks. For an Irish boy he needs a change in his luck. Who knows, today might be the day.” Mary stared at Charles then Mickey and smiled. She came out from behind the bar and set down to large sodas. “Behave boys. Just don’t forget to exchange numbers.” Mary walked away shaking her head and laughing.

Mickey looked at the food and blushed a deeper shade of red. “Bloody woman. A year older and thinks she knows what’s best for me.”

Charles wasn’t sure what was going on, but maybe his luck had changed and St. Patrick’s Day wouldn’t be the usual disaster. As he sat looking at Mickey he smiled and reached out with his good hand to snag a fry.