ROURKE'S FINEST HOUR | Episode 11

... in which Rourke and Connie reach happiness at last...

XI

And so it was that Connie Hamilton and Padraig Rourke converged on Seattle the following April to get married.  For once, they travelled together, on the same flight from Washington, D.C.  They chose to rent an Airbnb apartment, not far from the church, rather than a hotel.

Rourke rose early on their wedding day, donned a sweatshirt and terrycloth pants, but no slippers or house shoes.  He padded out to the kitchen to fire up the coffeepot.

Connie joined him moments later.  "Can't sleep, eh, ya big oaf?" 

"Too excited, truly!  I'll be a wreck by evening, but thank goodness we chose an early afternoon time for our ceremony."

They poured and enjoyed the coffee, from one of Seattle's finest roasters.  They didn't really need to speak.

After they breakfasted on bagels and fruit, and cleaned up the coffee pot and cups, Connie gazed at Rourke, studying his face.

"Moment of truth, Padraig:  still want to go through with it?"

"Yes... yes... and always yes, Constance my jewel!  I've been waiting for this day for almost 16 years, and... for a long time, I didn't think it could ever happen.  So let us go forth and promise each other, and turn a new page in life... together!"  He kissed his fingers, and touched her cheek.

Constance Nicole Hamilton and Padraig Declan Rourke exchanged vows at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in the Queen Anne district, not far from Katie Morris's apartment.  About 30 friends of both attended, from the Seattle area and from Washington, D.C. Rourke's siblings Fiona, Séan, Bridin, Martin, and Caitlin came from the four corners of the country.  Moya Hogan was the Maid of Honor, and Katie Morris and Aine Rourke were bridesmaids. Rourke's old law partner Séamus Regan, long resident in Seattle, was the Best Man. Thom Morris was a groomsman.  The Reverend Dr. David Stewart officiated.

The day had started with overcast skies, but late in the morning, the clouds cleared and the sun shone through.  Rourke was not superstitious, but thought this a very good sign.

Connie and Rourke chose a nearby café for a somewhat larger reception after the ceremony.  A jazz-rock quartet created a lively atmosphere for the 60-odd revelers, and many of the guests danced before and after dinner.

Amidst the post-prandial hubbub, all at once Connie and Rourke found themselves together for a slow dance, and as alone as people can get on a dance floor at a wedding reception.

"How are we doing, Padraig?  A penny for your thoughts?"  Connie whispered in his ear.

Rourke stood back, holding her hands, and looking into her shining eyes.  "Finest kind, my dearest love -- mo ghrá daor.  My thoughts, though?  I'm ecstatically happy, and feeling a bit conceited.  You see, I think this is my finest hour, and all because of you!"

Connie waded back into his arms, kissed him, and they danced slowly into the night.

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THE END

of

 "Rourke's Finest Hour"

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BEGINNING NEXT FRIDAY, JUNE 28:

A New Story, also featuring Padraig and Connie Rourke!

"SUDDENLY, ROURKE CANT FORGET"

... being a tale from Padraig's Rourke's complicated emotional history...

An excerpt:

“... The walk from the hotel had tired him and his legs were starting to ache.  He hadn't been in Omaha for ages, since 1982, in fact, and much had changed, mostly for the good from the looks of it, he thought.  He pulled open the elegant wood and glass doors, and entered his old workplace and hangout spot.

The pub had just opened, and there was still much pre-opening hustle and bustle evident, but only a couple of early bird customers had preceded him.  No one matching Alan's description, not yet.  Good, thought Rourke, I need a beer.  He crossed the short side of the rectangular marble bar, then sat in the middle of the long side, so he could see the door...”

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