Siobhan Shows Up

By Thomas M. McDade

Sensible for once, I opened a bank account after putting aside cash for an NBA adventure, train fare to Atlanta, and incidentals. I traveled in style, Amtrak roomette. I felt like a high roller checking into a Courtyard Marriott.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas M. McDade
• Release date: Jun 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005695668

Thomas M. McDade

Thomas M. McDade is a seventy-seven-year-old former programmer/analyst residing in Fredericksburg, VA, previously, in CT & RI. He's married, has no kids, and no pets. McDade is a 1973 graduate of Fairfield University. He served two tours of duty in the U.S. Navy. [e-mail]

Book preview

Title Page and Licensing

Siobhan Shows Up, Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2022 Thomas M. McDade

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual locations or events is coincidental.

*

Acknowledgements:

I am most grateful to The Path Literary Magazine, Volume 11, #2 (Mary Nickum, Editor) previous publisher of Siobhan Shows Up.

Cover created from photo taken by the author.

*

Back in Pawtucket there was sure to be a letter from Cecilia revealing whether or not Vonny is my daughter. Her name is Siobhan, but I gave myself permission to nickname her considering what was at stake. I’m a casual laborer, roofing, painting, and landscaping. I was able to get a DNA test two days after receiving a Hallmark Easter card with the news. I used money I’d won on a daily number 666 that I chose because I said to the mirror while shaving, You’re in a hell of a fix, Tom Ward. Soft touch that I am I sent $150 to Cecilia so she could try to match me to the child. Sensible for once, I opened a bank account after putting aside cash for an NBA adventure, train fare to Atlanta and incidentals. I traveled in style, Amtrak roomette. I felt like a high roller checking into a Courtyard Marriott. I was exhausted after my first Celtics road game and it went my way as Boston easily beat Atlanta 117-95. My favorite player, Robert Parish, The Chief, scored 17. God, he made those long arcing jump shots look so damned easy. His number was 00, surely a very humble man. I matched some of the plays with the voice of Celtics radio announcer Johnny Most, who worked high above courtside at Boston Garden. A couple with a girl who looked to be eight or nine kept Vonny in mind. I wisely took a cab back to the hotel instead of walking, to avoid alcohol temptations. Long time since I’d gone four days without a drink. I slept like a man without years of back child support staring him in the wallet.

The northbound train trip was