“Yes, Jacob Morrison, manager.” He held his hand out. “You’re Lou Suffern; we met at the opening night a few months ago. I recall it was a late one.” He winked at him.

“Yes, I remember,” Lou replied, at the same time not remembering him at all. “I’m just wondering if you could help me with making some changes in here.”

“Oh.” Jacob looked taken aback. “Of course we’ll try to accommodate you in any way that we can. What were you thinking of?”

“Chairs.” Lou tried not to speak rudely. “This is my father’s seventieth. Could we please get him and his guests some chairs?”

“Oh.” Jacob made a face. “I’m afraid this is a standing-only event. We didn’t charge for—”

“I’ll pay you for whatever, of course.” Lou flashed his pearly whites through a tight smile.

“Yes, of course.” Jacob began to leave when Lou called him back.

“And the music,” Lou said, “is there anything more traditional than this?”

“Traditional?” Jacob smiled questioningly.

“Yes, traditional Irish music. For my seventy-year-old father.” Lou spoke through gritted teeth. “Instead of this acid jazz funky house music that my seventy-year-old father isn’t so much into.”

“I’ll see what we can do.”

The atmosphere between the two men was darkening.

“And what about food? Did Alison arrange food? Apart from the naked man covered in cream that my mother is currently standing beside.”

“Yes, of course. We have shepherd’s pies, lasagna, that kind of thing.”

Lou quietly celebrated.

“You know, we discussed all of our concerns with Alison before,” Jacob explained. “We don’t usually hold seventieth parties.” His fake smile quickly faded. “It’s just that we have a standard setup here, particularly for the Christmas period, and this is it.” He gestured to the room proudly. “The casino theme is very successful for corporate events, launches, that kind of thing,” he explained.

“I see. Well, it would have been nice to know that,” Lou said politely.

“You did sign off on it,” Jacob assured him.

“Right.” Lou swallowed and looked around the room. His fault. Of course.

AS LOU APPROACHED HIS FAMILY, they stepped away and separated themselves from him as though he were a bad smell. His father, though, greeted his middle child as he always did: with a smile.

“Dad, happy birthday,” Lou said quietly, reaching his hand out to his father.

“Thank you.” His father took his son’s hand warmly. Despite all this, despite what Lou had done, his father still loved him.

“So are you happy to be going to Saint Lucia?” Lou asked.

“Saint Lucia?” His father looked shocked; his mouth dropped open. “Oh my Lord.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Lou.” Lou’s brother, Quentin, overheard the conversation and went racing over to Marcia, who was over by the DJ area getting a microphone stand ready. She listened to Quentin whisper in her ear and then Lou saw her face fall.

“Let me get you a Guinness,” Lou said, turning around to look for the bar, trying to change the subject.

“Oh,” his father said, finally snapping out of his shock. “They don’t have any.”

“What? But that’s all you drink.”

“They have champagne, and some funny-looking green cocktail,” his father said, sipping on his glass. “I’m just drinking water. Your mother’s happy, though. She likes champagne, though far from it she was reared.” He laughed, trying to make light of the situation.

On hearing herself being mentioned, Lou’s mother turned around and threw Lou a withering look.

“Ah, now,” his father said softly, “I can’t drink tonight anyway. I’m sailing with Quentin tomorrow in Howth,” he said proudly. “He’s racing in the Brass Monkeys and he’s down a man, so yours truly is filling in.” He thumbed himself in the chest.

“You are not racing, Fred.” Lou’s mother rolled her eyes. “You can barely stand upright on a windy day, never mind on a boat. It’s December. Those waters are choppy.”

“I’m seventy years old. I can do what I like.”

“You’re seventy years old, you have to stop doing what you like, or you won’t see seventy-one,” she snapped, and the family laughed, including Lou.

“You’ll just have to find someone else, dear.” She looked at Quentin, who had rejoined them.

“I’ll do it for you,” Alexandra said to her husband, wrapping her arms around him, and Lou found himself having to look away, feeling mildly jealous.

“You’ve never raced before.” Quentin smiled. “No way.”

“What time is the race?” Lou asked.

Nobody answered.

“Of course I can do it,” Alexandra said with a smile. “Isn’t it easy? I’ll bring my bikini, and I’ll let the rest of the crew bring the strawberries and champagne.”

The family laughed again.

“What time is the race?” Lou asked again.

“Well, if she races in her bikini, then I’ll definitely let her take part,” Quentin teased.

More laughter.

As though suddenly hearing his brother’s question, Quentin responded without looking him in the eye, “Race starts at eleven a.m. Maybe I’ll give Stephen a quick call.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket.

“I’ll do it,” Lou said, and everyone looked at him in shock.

“I’ll do it,” he repeated.

“Maybe you could call Stephen first, love,” Alexandra said gently.

“Yes,” Quentin responded, turning back to his phone. “Good idea. I’ll just go somewhere quiet.” He brushed by Lou and left the room.

Lou felt the sting as the family turned away from him again and talked about places he’d never been, about people he’d never met. He stood by idly while they laughed at inside jokes he didn’t understand. It was as though they were speaking a secret language, one that Lou was entirely unable to comprehend. Eventually he stopped bothering to ask the questions that were never answered, and eventually he stopped listening, realizing nobody cared if he did or not. He was too detached from the family to make it up in one evening, to check himself into a place where there was currently no vacancy.

The Soul Catches Up

LOU’S FATHER WAS BESIDE HIM, looking around the room like a lost child, no doubt feeling nervous and embarrassed that everyone had come tonight for him.

“Where’s Ruth?” his father asked.

“Eh,” Lou looked around for the hundredth time, unable to find her, “she’s just chatting with some guests.”

“Right…Nice view from up here.” He nodded out the window. “City’s come a long way.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like it,” Lou said, glad he’d gotten one thing right.

“So which one is your office?” His father looked across the river Liffey at the office buildings, which remained lit up at this hour.

“That one there, directly opposite.” Lou pointed. “Thirteen floors up, on the fourteenth floor.”

Lou’s father glanced at him, obviously thinking the numbering peculiar, and for the first time Lou felt it too, could see how it could be perceived as odd and confusing. This rattled him. He had always been so sure about it.

“It’s the one with all the lights on,” Lou explained more simply. “Office party.”

“Ah, so that’s where it is.” His father nodded. “That’s where it all happens.”

“Yes,” Lou said proudly. “I just got a promotion tonight, Dad.” He smiled. “I haven’t told anybody yet. It’s your night, of course,” he backtracked.

“A promotion?” His father’s bushy eyebrows rose.

“Yes.”

“More work?”

“Bigger office, better light,” he joked. When his dad didn’t laugh, he became serious. “Yes, more work. More hours. But I like to work hard.”

“I see.” His father was silent.

Frustration rose within Lou. A single congratulations was all he wanted.

“You’re happy there?” his father asked casually, still looking out the window, the party behind them visible in the reflection. “No point in working that hard if you’re not, because at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?”