Brenda Harlen
In memory of Tom Torrance—
January 28, 1951–March 6, 2008
A teacher and mentor and friend;
a genuine prince among men.
“You didn’t need to come over here, Grandma. I told you on the phone that I was fine.”
Theresa Shea plunked her purse on the bar and narrowed her gaze on her granddaughter behind the counter at Shea’s Bar & Grill. Yes, she certainly looked fine. But Molly had always been one to keep her chin up no matter how much her heart was breaking inside. And she’d had a lot of heartbreak to deal with over the past six months.
“Maybe I needed to see for myself.”
“And now you have.”
“And now that I’m here, maybe I’d like a cup of coffee.”
Molly poured her a cup of coffee, pushed it across the counter.
She’d been working there for so many years now, she didn’t even have to think about the tasks anymore. Everything was automatic, routine, and not at all what James Shea wanted for his daughter.
“What are you doing here?” Theresa asked softly.
“Right now? Trying to figure out the produce order for next week.”
“He wanted you to go to college, to do something more.”
Her granddaughter’s fingers