New York Nights: Shaken and Stirred

And they ended up on the FDR, cruising out onto the Deegan, until she wheeled onto the exit for Scarsdale.

Marisa had a sweet little convertible and a heavy accelerator foot, but Gabe was happy for the rush. Daniel didn’t do this often, but when he did, Gabe was always there to bail him out.

The sports bar was on the main street in Scarsdale, a place with six TVs, flashing neon beer signs and bartenders dressed in striped referee uniforms that no man in his right mind would ever wear in a drinking establishment.

Hunched over said bar, blindingly drunk, was the O’Sullivan brother formerly known as “the sensible one.”

Gabe rushed forward. “Daniel?”

The bartender looked up in relief. “It was either you or the cops.”

“Does he come in here often?” asked Gabe.

“Never seen him before, but I’ve only been working here for a few weeks.”

Gabe paid the tab and gave the bartender a substantial tip. “Sorry.”

“He’s your brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Kept talking about some woman.”

“Michelle?”

“No, he kept talking about Anastasia.”

Anastasia? Gabe shook his head, deciding the bartender was confused. “Doesn’t matter.”

He looked over at Marisa, who was watching the scene with interest. “You sure you want to do this?”

“It’s the most excitement I’ve had since a famous Grammy winner walked into the office, and I got to show him a SoHo loft that would have paid my rent for a year.”

With a quick smile, she took a shoulder, Gabe took the other one, and they carried Daniel toward the door.

“He doesn’t usually do this,” Gabe said, needing to defend Daniel.

“I’m not one to judge.”

“He lost his wife on 9/11,” he told her, not wanting to say too much, but he didn’t want Marisa thinking his brother was a lush, but Daniel kept things bottled inside, and when they came out, it was never pretty—and usually incoherent.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Where are we headed?”

“He’s got a place down in Battery Park.” He searched Daniel’s pocket for keys and found them—thank God—because he wasn’t up to explaining this to Tessa. Trying to explain it to the absolute stranger that was Marisa was bad enough.

It took some work, but they got him in the backseat, and Gabe climbed in next to him.

“He’s kind of sad.”

“Not sad,” muttered Daniel.

The car shot forward, and soon Gabe was sitting there in a strange woman’s car with a drunk brother who looked as if was going to wake up tomorrow and hopefully forget all of this. Gabe wasn’t up to reminding him, or correcting him, but he could feel Marisa’s curiosity in the darkness.

Finally Gabe broke the silence. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to talk to him. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what not to say. I want to pretend like nothing ever happened, but that’s wrong, too.”

“Has he been to counseling?”

“Daniel? Uh, no.”

“Why not?” she asked calmly.

“He’s not the counseling type,” Gabe responded, because nobody in their right mind went to counseling, and the O’Sullivans were all in their right minds, at least most of the time.

“Oh,” she said, then went back to being quiet.

Gabe glanced at Daniel, noted the nodding head, and sighed. One of the most frustrating things was that Gabe could usually fix anything—personal problem, leaky faucet, clogged beer tap. But lately he was striking out left and right. First with Tessa, now with Daniel. For a man who prided himself on the ability to handle every problem thrown his way, this wasn’t good. “You think I should do something, don’t you? Take him to a shrink or read some books to figure out how to talk to my own brother.” Yeah, he sounded defensive. So what?

“I don’t know.”

They didn’t say anything more on the way to the building, but Gabe knew that Marisa didn’t approve of Gabe. Easy for her to make judgments when there was no right or wrong, no good or bad, just a man who had a hole where his heart used to be.

It wasn’t right.

Daniel’s building was down near Wall Street, within the shadow of where the towers had stood.

Marisa eased the car into a parking garage and Gabe looked at her in surprise. “You can drop us off. I can take it from here.”

Marisa claimed the ticket from the attendant and shrugged. “You might need some help, and it’s not like I have somewhere to be.”

Gabe gave her a long look and then waved it off. “Your choice.”

Daniel was incoherent in the back, so Gabe was grateful for the help, and they lugged Daniel upstairs to his apartment.

When they entered the apartment, Marisa looked around. “Nice place. One bedroom but roomy. And the view’s good.”

Gabe smiled, maneuvering Daniel out of his suit jacket. He was the only man Gabe knew who would get shit-faced in a jacket and tie. “You sound like Tessa. No wonder you two are friends.”

“She’s nice,” Marisa offered and then ran forward when Daniel started to tilt.

“Just remember to stay on her good side.” Gabe smiled slightly.

“I don’t think she has a bad side.”

“You don’t know her well enough.”

“You two are roommates?”

Gabe wheeled Daniel toward the bedroom. “It’s a temporary thing. She needed a place to live. I had space.”