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Under a blue but chilly sky, Brody and Simon met with Moira and another member of the marketing agency at the storefront of Hammerworks. Shortly after they entered to view the handsome remodeling of the interior, Mary Clarke arrived. She was introduced as the impending manager of the store, and they all took a few moments of amiable chatting before other matters were seen to.
Brody, Simon, and Mary moved to a corner of the store and discussed employee options, while Moira's assistant took dozens of pictures of the renovation. Mary quickly realized that her busiest times there would be during tourist seasons, but the clear majority of sales would come from the internet.
In the back, Brody showed everyone the restroom and spacious kitchenette; he asked Mary to use store funds to stock it as she saw fit. Across from the kitchenette and next to the back door was the larger of two offices, which he and Simon would share. The smaller office, closer to the store showroom, was for the manager.
Mary looked around her office with a smile. Looking over the desk, chair, shelving unit, and file cabinet, she mentioned under her breath that while it wasn't big enough to accommodate her steamer trunk of sex toys, it would do nicely.
Simon took an instant liking to Mary's pleasant demeanor and undercurrent of saucy playfulness. To him, her personality landed somewhere between his mother and one of the nicer prostitutes he knew from his former life; both were confident and lively, knew their work and took pride in it, and deserved respect.
To Mary, Simon seemed like a respectful, if reserved, bloke with old-fashioned tendencies. As she'd noticed when she'd met him before, his face usually remained placid while his hazel eyes were those of an enthused child.
A cloth tarp and lighting was set up to take photos of the newer examples of Simon's wares. Moira clicked away at her laptop, noting descriptors for each piece and adding all of the crafts to the growing catalogue of available pieces. Mary and Moira, friends for a number of years, then discussed pricing; both Brody and Simon interjected, requiring the store prices to be lower for residents and whim-shopping tourists.
Brody proudly pointed out details of the many metalwork creations to the assistant while shots were taken from different angles. Simon leaned against a nearby wall and fidgeted, uncomfortable with the praise on his behalf. Mary was about to compliment his skill, but saw the man's embarrassment and didn't want to add to it.
Both Brody and Simon were uneasy when Moira reminded them of an upcoming marketing photo shoot, and that they should bring a few different outfits each. When the cousins awkwardly explained that they had no real fashion sense, Mary rescued them; she and Kate would pick out their clothes. Mary wore a matronly smile when she said that she would choose their underwear, and Kate could deal with the rest.
Glad to be free of the subject of being photographed, Brody and Simon escaped back to their office and talked about projects that involved both of their skills, mostly pertaining to jewelry. While that conversation was productive, it was also to cover both of their discomfiture of soon having to pose like puppets in front of a camera.
While they explored the storage garage across the small alley behind the store, Brody asked how things went with Gordon McCoy that morning. Simon said that aside from sometimes using Irish words, the old farrier was a little reserved and gruff. But that actually set him at ease; he'd probably come off with a similar personality to Gordon's customers, and it should be an easier transition because of it. Simon then mentioned that Gordon seemed to at least consider his work adequate from shoeing his big, cremello Connemara stallion.
With a smile, Brody mentioned that while Simon put the horse back in its trailer, he and Gordon had a quick chat. He said that when he asked the old farrier of his cousin's skill, Gordon told him that, "Aside from making introductions and sponsoring him for the IFA (Irish Farrier Authority), the lad is gairmiúla and doesn't need me for a thing." Having no idea what that word meant, they both agreed it sounded encouraging.
After saying farewell to Moira, her assistant, and Mary, the cousins remained in the store to decide how to make best use of the new display cases and sturdy shelving units. The topic turned to their respective thoughts for the basic operations of the store and website; Simon let a bit of his excitement and relief show, realizing that he had plenty of time to conduct his new farrier business as well.
Brody reminded him to come up with smaller, Irish-based creations for the upcoming St. Patrick's Day holiday. Bringing his thoughts back to the shop itself, Simon asked if the single lock on the door was enough for their good location. Brody explained that there was no need for worry; except for his own recent actions, the village saw virtually no crime. Simon noticed his big cousin's mood sour with his own words, so he changed the subject by offering to buy them lunch at the sandwich shop across the street.
At a corner table in the small seating area of the welcoming little eatery, Brody finished a bite of his roast beef sandwich and said, "So, hey, Sunday night, come on over for dinner."
Simon swallowed his mouthful of his ham and crisp on brown bread and replied, "Sure thing. Wait - I shouldn't-a said yeah so quick. Who's cookin'?"
"I am, jackass. And just for that, I'm making boiled cabbage just for you."
"Oh, that's rich. You hate that shit as much as I do, cuz," Simon said with a smirk. "So go ahead and stink up your whole house; me and your dogs can eat on the patio." After a swig of juice, he asked, "So, is this you and Kate bein' friendly as usual, or are ya puttin' on another shindig?"
"Well," Brody started just before he swallowed another bite, "I'm gonna have someone else there, too." He saw the hopeful look in his cousin's eyes and quickly added, "No, it's not Alana."
As he lowered his sandwich, Simon asked, "You're not trying to set me up, are ya?"
Brody waved him off. "No, no, it's nothing like that. Well... not exactly."
"Wanna start over? This time, get it straight in your noggin first," Simon said mockingly.
After he took a sip of his drink, Brody explained in quieter tones, "Okay, I'm having someone else over Sunday night, and I want you to meet her. She's... um…" He glanced around the nearly empty seating area. "She's one of... them."
Simon grinned. "What, Polish?"
"No, smartass," Brody whispered as he leaned forward, "One of... them," outing emphasis on the last word.
It took less than a second for Simon to catch on. He dropped his sandwich onto his plate and leaned back, shaking his head. "No way in hell, Brody. Forget it."
"C'mon, Simon, work with me here. She's that friend that Kate and I mentioned before. She's nice, I promise. Just give it a shot. We won't be hanging out all night or anything."
Simon leaned forward again and kept his voice low to match Brody's. "Do I have to remind you what one of them bastards did to me? Get it out of your head, cuz; it's not gonna happen."
Brody looked down and nodded. "No, I remember, man. It's just that... not all of 'em are bad; freaky as all hell, yeah, but not necessarily bad."
"Are we still talkin' about this? You're ruinin' my lunch," Simon said with a hard tone.
Matching his cousin's stern attitude, Brody said, "Look, they're here whether we want 'em to be or not. Kate and I at least made friends with one who's been nice, and maybe saved my ass."
Simon's voice had venom in it. "Damn it, Brody, what did you do to me?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about you gettin' me to move out here. Alright, yeah, the country is as pretty as a picture, the folks are ace-high, and they know how to have a hog-killin' time of it. You even set me up like a boss out here. For all that, I'm grateful - more than you know. But now I find out that the place is fucking infested with the things that made my life a goddamned nightmare!" Simon realized that his voice had risen in volume, and returned to a whisper. "I know you didn't do it on purpose. You couldn't know I could see 'em."
"You never mentioned before that you could," Brody stated defe
nsively.
"Hell, I didn't know I could; I sure didn't see any out in Colorado. But now, knowin' that I can, I'm lookin' over my shoulder all the damn time! Seein' a giant purple man and a girl with big ol' doll eyes near 'bout spun my head! All a' them fantasy movies ain't got shit on this place."
Brody adapted a softer tone to counter Simon's temper. "Okay, I admit, I don't know what that's like. You'd have to talk to Kate or Jane for that. All I do know is that I had your same 'fuck 'em all' attitude. That is, until Kate helped me see that they're not all like the one who screwed you over. That friend of mine, Liadan... she explained a lot of things to us, and it helped us to not to go bat-shit over the whole thing."
Simon shook his head. "That's where it's different, cuz. The world I knew got ripped away and the one I landed in wasn't exactly a wet dream, so I almost did go bat-shit a couple times. You and Kate might've been thrown for a loop, but that's it. My life got fucked with, and I got a legitimate beef."
"Yeah, you do, man; I'm not tryin' to make less of it."
Simon took a deep breath and let it out. "I know; I know you're not. This whole damn thing gets me riled pretty quick."
"I don't blame you. It's just… Some of the stuff we told you, it came from Liadan, and I think that her sharing all that shit she didn't have to... Well, that makes her good people in my book. Besides that, she healed me up in nothin' flat - which still blows my mind - and it puts me in her debt, as far as I'm concerned. It's just like with the McCarthy's and the guys at the pub; I'm trying to introduce you to good people, Simon. I want my friends to be your friends, too. Liadan is no different." He saw his cousin's incredulous stare. "Okay, yeah, she's different, but you know what I mean."
Simon took his eyes from Brody's and stared out the picture window. After a long silence, he still kept his absent gaze out to the street but said, "Fine, I'll go, but don't expect me to act like a thoroughbred about it. And I don't care if she's green with polka dots or purple and nine feet tall," he turned his head back to face his cousin. "If she gets near me, I'll put her down."
Smiling, Brody replied, "I understand, and it won't be a problem; Liadan is very respectful. Oh, and no need to worry about another monster troll or anything; she's only about a foot tall."
"Aw Christ," Simon said, slumping in his chair, "do any of 'em come in normal size?"
"Well, maybe besides Oriana... uh, no, not that I've seen. But if it helps, Liadan kinda reminds me of my grandma, except for the blue hair."
Simon rolled his eyes. "Oh sure, that helps a heap," he said with a sarcastic drawl. "I'm not sure I could forgive myself for knifing your grams."