Eyes on the Unseen Prize

by S.J. Thomason

Chapter 9

  St. Patrick’s Day

  Nick and Piper stood on the sidewalk that butted up to the Avenue, in anticipation of the commencement of the Annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade. From where they stood, they could see Riley O’Toole with his bright green top hat, matching green suit and shiny white boots. Riley looked a lot like a leprechaun, not only due to his festive holiday get up and diminutive stature, but also due to his bushy red hair, which curled up at the rim of his top hat. Piper could see the pig that Riley was carrying, which was a potbelly pig, dyed green. Riley had started the St. Patrick’s Day Parade tradition in Orange Bay at least two decades before by marching up the Avenue with nothing but his pig. Piper looked forward to watching the parade this year, as it had grown dramatically in size since she had starting coming about a decade before. At least fifty floats, trolleys, and decorated cars lined up behind Riley along the side streets in preparation of the 2 p.m. start time. Riley owned the O’Toole Pub, which was strategically located along the Avenue where the parade ended. The parade always helped business.

  When the parade began, the crowd thickened around Nick and Piper, who found mobility to be a trying task. So they stood in the same place in which they originated and watched the parade go by. Float after car. Car after float. And then the old town trolley. The well-decorated floats carried the Irish, or those posing to be Irish, wearing all sorts of fancy green outfits. Green top hats, berets, Dr. Seuss Cat-in-the-Hat hats, and all sorts of other gear formed the foundation upon which the festivities became fun. Beers were flowing, people were toasting, and Irish eyes were smiling. Piper noticed a few college-age men walking along with the parade in their holiday gear. They wore hats with two beers on each side, connected to their mouths by a large, handy straw. Their sweaty faces were covered in oversized green sunglasses. It was a hot day in Orange Bay, unseasonably warm for March 17th.

  “You look so hot today,” Nick whispered in her ear.

  “You do too,” she answered, as she combed her hands through her hair to be sure that her hair was in place. Then she put her arm around Nick’s waist and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

  To some of the Irish or Irish wannabes (on that particular day), St. Patrick’s Day was the best day of the year. Certainly the bars appreciated the day. Many called themselves by Irish names, knowing that there was more potential for profits on that day than on any other in the year. Music blared from all of the bars located along the Avenue, so listeners heard a cacophony of noises. The only way to stop the cacophony in one’s ears was to enter the bar from which a particular song played. That was the strategy the bar owners used to attract patrons. Along with cheap green beer. Lots of cheap green beer. Parking lots, which were also situated along the Avenue, were full of cars, coolers, and more St. Patrick’s Day revelers.

  “I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else in front of this parade,” Nick whispered as he kissed her on the cheek.

  “Me neither.”

  “I want you to know that I love you and will do whatever it takes to make you happy,” he said.

  “I love you too, Nick. You know that,” she said. Piper reflected on Nick’s loving words and wondered whether this day would be the day the one on which he proposed to her. If so, how would he do it? She didn’t want to get her hopes up, however, as she had done on Valentine’s Day. Trying to maintain her cool and not overthink the potential of the situation, she focused on the parade. But still, she knew that this day was one of his favorite holidays. That she knew. Proposing on this day would be perfect.

  The old town type of trolley approached with little fanfare as far as decorations go. While the floats and cars were covered in four leaf clovers, streamers, balloons, and other green decorations, the trolley was bare. As it came closer, Piper noticed it was stuffed with twenty-somethings, who threw Mardi Gras beads to the people watching the parade, occasionally singling out and shooting some of them with a good dose of silly string. The people in the trolley drank beer from green solo cups, originating from the keg that was at the center of the trolley. While the keg couldn’t be seen by the bystanders, Piper knew it was there. Bob had told her. Bob was the planner behind the trolley and she could see him as he danced around inside. Betty was by his side, wearing a green beret and a huge grin.

  The holiday had become a celebration of the Irish more than of the man in whose name it originated and what his teachings represented. Piper wondered how many of the revelers knew who Patrick was or what he did. Given that the four-leaf clover was displayed on just about every float, it seemed unlikely that they did. In the fifth century, St. Patrick used the three-leaf clover, the shamrock, to teach the Irish pagans about the Holy Trinity. The four leaf clover was a symbol of luck, not of the Holy Trinity.

  “Do you want to head over to O’Toole’s?” Nick asked.

  “Sure,” Piper answered as she wove her way through the crowd behind him while holding his hand. She saw a handful of recognizable faces and many smiles.

  “They just opened the “Top of the O’Toole” on the top floor of the O’Toole building. Its windows overlook the bay and the entire city,” he added. “Let’s check it out.”

  “Oh, that sounds good,” Piper said. Again, she tried to stifle her thoughts that this day could be the one in which he proposed. She didn’t want to get her hopes up and didn’t want to be disappointed if he again let her down. Recalling her sadness on Valentine’s Day, she tried to keep her attention on the Irish revelers to dissipate any thoughts of a proposal.

  The parade had ended, so people were starting to stream into the bars that lined the avenue along the parade route. When Piper and Nick arrived at O’Toole’s, they found the bar to be packed with people dressed in all shades of green. They made their way over to the elevator, hoping that few had discovered the newly opened top floor. Fortunately, their hopes were realized. They hopped off the elevator and moved about freely before making their way to the large picture windows that encircled the room.

  The views were breathtaking. Piper could see the bay at the end of the avenue, which ran perpendicular right up to the beaches before it stopped and split at Coastline Drive. Set within the backdrop of an azure sky, the blue waters of the bay stretched up and down the coastline and off into the distance as far as she could see, topped by tiny sailboats and motor boats.

  Nick put his arm around Piper and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, Piper.”

  She turned to him, admiring his softhearted disposition, and wrapped her arms around him. “I love you too Nick O’Brien,” Piper said. “You’re the best man in the world. I’m so fortunate that you’ve come into my life.”

  “Happy St. Patrick’s Day, my dear. You know, this is one of my favorite holidays.”

  “It’s one of mine too. I like the way Irish eyes are always smiling on St. Paddy’s Day.”

  “Your Irish eyes are smiling too,” he said.

  “I’m always smiling when I’m with you Nick.”

  Piper turned to look again out of the windows in front of her, casting her eyes into the sky. She spotted two seagulls sailing with the wind and had a thought. “Nick, look at the two seagulls gliding through the sky, as if surrendering to the wind.”

  “Just like us,” he responded.

  Piper and Nick stood in front of the window for a while, buried in their own thoughts. Piper kept her eyes on the birds in the sky and the sea of people in green washing down the parade route. Some filed into bars, while others headed to their cars. Patrons flocked into the Top of the O’Toole’s, accompanied by the sounds of merriment and an abundance of green beer.

  The Irish band members made their way over to a corner where they prepared their instruments. Four men were in the band, all appearing distinctively Irish, not only by costume but by coloring. The lead singer gave someone in the crowd a thumbs up, and Piper wondered whether his sign was directed to Nick. It appeared so, as Nick returned the gesture.

  Riley O’Toole approached Nick and Piper, carryi
ng his green potbelly pig.

  “Greetings, Nick and Piper! Happy St. Patrick’s Day!”

  Piper wondered how Riley knew their names, guessing that Nick must have chummed up with him at some point during the day. Or perhaps he knew him from another time.

  “To you too,” Piper responded, still feeling a slight curiosity over the reason behind Riley’s attention. Again, she suppressed her proposal thoughts.

  “Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you too,” Nick confirmed.

  Riley said to Piper, “Did you see our new dart board? It’s on the wall over there.” He pointed to a wall behind them, so Piper turned to look at it.

  Huge, bright yellow words had been projected onto the wall, which was painted in a dark greyish color. “PIPER, WILL YOU MARRY ME? LOVE, NICK.” Piper screamed. “Nick!” When she turned towards Nick to give him a huge hug, she found him kneeling in front of her with a small box in his hand. He opened it, displaying a dazzling diamond ring, which precisely matched the appearance of the ring she had envisioned that she would wear one day.

  “Will you marry me, Piper, and make me the happiest man in the world?” His eyes sparkled with the question, melting Piper’s heart.

  “Yes! Of course I’ll marry you Nick. I love you!”

  “I love you too, Piper. And I’ll always love you no matter what, forever and ever!”

  He took the ring out of the box and slid it up her finger. Then he stood up and embraced her, kissing her with more passion and love than he had ever kissed her before. The kiss carried on for a while, longer than any others she remembered. When the kiss ended, Piper spotted her friends who were standing with them in the room, clapping their hands. Bob, Betty, Cherie, Chase, and Flypaper had joined a circle, which was forming around them. Piper’s sister and dad were also there, clapping right along. Everyone was smiling and Piper was ecstatic. This would be one of the best days of her life. “Thank you,” she whispered as she looked upwards.

  The lead singer of the Irish band called out, “This first song is for you, Nick and Piper. Congratulations!” The band played “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling,” which was a song that Piper knew well. Her grandma had often played the song on her organ. Piper wondered whether she had told Nick about how much her grandma liked the song because of the way it reminded her of her husband, Piper’s Irish grandpa. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of how much she would have loved to see her grandma there with them.

  Then she turned to Nick and kissed him again. Such a nice surprise. Her friends and family were there with her to celebrate and support their engagement, and she was thrilled about that. She was also delighted in the confirmation that she would soon be Mrs. Nick O’Brien.