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“You saw home fries from your car?”

“I saw the eggs. I guess I’m assuming home fries. I saw the waitress come over several times with the coffeepot.”

“No worries for your eyesight. Were you slouched down in your seat like Columbo?”

Martin laughed. “You know, I thought of Columbo.”

“So go on. Did you talk to him?”

“I couldn’t see inside the library from my car so I went in. I figured with all those shelves of books there’d be a place to look at him without being seen. And the parking lot was full, so I figured it was crowded. They seemed to know him there. He went straight back to the community room. And do you know what was in there?”

Mac did not.

“A kids’ thing. A singsong, but a sort of ceremony. There were posters tacked up on the walls with ribbons for first, second, honorable mention. A load of parents and children packed in.”

“He has a child?”

“A girl. She looks around ten or so. She looks a lot like your Annie did at that age. The hair. He sat in the back row, close to where I was. The librarian came up and asked me if I was there for someone and I said no I was just hoping to borrow a book and I heard the singing. Maybe he heard my brogue, I don’t know, but as I was speaking to the librarian Rian turned around and saw me.”

“Oh god. And?”

“And he came right up, Mac. He just stood in front of me and said nothing like he was waiting for me to explain. I acted surprised and asked, ‘Are you one of the Joyces from Cuan an Mhíl Mhóir?’ And he said he was. ‘You’re one of the Lees,’ he said. He didn’t hesitate. He shook my hand, asked which of the Lees I was, told me I’m bald as an egg. He asked about my brothers, asked if we had families, all that kind of thing. He asked if I watched the All-Ireland final, if there were places near Livingston that show it. He asked how I thought the Galway team is looking this year. He asked about my mother, and I told him that she died years ago but she’d been a big age. I asked how long he’d been in Butte but he only said ‘a good while.’ I think he knew I wasn’t there by chance and asked how long I’d be in town. He said he could meet me later on, he had his little girl to celebrate first, she’d won a prize for her poster. She was going home with her mother after, so he’d be free. He wrote down his address and there’s me with it already written in my pocket. Anyhow, long story short I pull up to the house an hour later but I’m not sure should I go in or what’s happening. But then he comes to the door and waves me in and says he needs a few minutes because he’s on hold with someone at the Pit to tell them he needs coverage for his shift that night.

“I told him not to go to any trouble on my account, I’d be heading home before dark, but he looked very amused by that and said it had nothing to do with me, his daughter’s mother had gotten called in to work an overnight and he wanted the girl to stay with him instead of getting a babysitter. He had to take his chances where they came. She mostly stayed at her mom’s.”

Mac couldn’t quite picture any of this. He wanted to know the cars passing on the street, the exact weather, if the radio was playing a song and if so, what song, what Rian was wearing. Would Mac recognize him? “What was the place like?”

“A wreck. He’s a poor housekeeper. Papers and books everywhere. Food cartons. Piles of clothes. There’s no woman living there, that’s for sure. You know how women make things nice? Little pillows and things? Photos in frames. There was none of that. It all seemed temporary but I got the sense he’d been there for years. There were a few toys in a bin in the corner, so his girl must be there sometimes.”

“And?” Mac pushed. “You didn’t say anything about me? Did you ask him where he’s been all this time?”

“It felt chancy right then, Mac. I don’t know why. We went out for a steak and a pint before his daughter came over. I asked if he’d like anything stronger given the shock of seeing me but he said he never drank anything stronger than beer on Mondays, and certainly not with his daughter around. We spoke Irish and he said that it had been a while for him. I actually believe that was the reason he put up with me for so long. He said it was very good to speak it again, that sometimes he gets afraid he’ll lose it. I said that he must have known some Irish speakers in the years he spent in England, but he just looked at me and didn’t answer. So says I, ‘It’s England you went to at first, was it? With the Conroys? I know a van of them went around that time.’ I wanted to keep it light because I had this feeling like he’d stand up and leave at any moment. I said, ‘You had them scratching their heads at home wondering where you could have gone.’ But he didn’t answer. It was like he didn’t even hear me. He only said he’s started dreaming in English the last few years, thinking in English too. So I thought I’d better not push it. I told him to come see me and PJ and Peter anytime, he’d get plenty of practice speaking Irish. He didn’t ask for any of you. I started to make my way there but—I don’t know how to describe it—it was like a curtain came down.”

“That’s it?”

“Well. Almost. Once I knew he wasn’t going to ask and that we’d be parting ways soon I decided I had to be the one. He said he supposed I found him because of the phone number he left at Cutty’s that time. I said that was exactly right. He said he’d never gone into Cutty’s for that reason. He knew the owner of that bar had family near us in Livingston and word might get back but it was so close to the Pit and it had been so many years and he wanted a burger and figured what harm.”

“But I don’t understand,” Mac said. “Why doesn’t he want to be in touch with any of us? What’s the reason?”

“Let me finish. So says I to him, ‘Exactly! What harm? Here you are having a steak and speaking your native tongue. Is it so bad?’ ” I wasn’t sure if I should tell him about Eamon, and I’m still not sure I did the right thing, but I could tell the afternoon was coming to a close anyway, and it’s a serious thing if he has the same heart trouble as Eamon did, so I might as well tell you that I told him, and also that the doctors said all the Joyces should be checked.

“And?”

“He was really knocked by that, Macdara. I can’t describe the change that came over him. He asked me several times what year it was that Eamon died, what exactly happened. I told him ye’d all been tested and had various results. I told him about Barry’s scare too. He asked if that’s how your mother died, if the doctors had said anything like that. And I told them they had.”

“Did he ask for Cathal?”

“No.”

Then Martin drew a breath as if he was considering how to say something.

“What?” Mac pushed.

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

“What? Something bad?”

“I’d say there’s trouble with the law somehow. He seemed nervous whenever I used his real name. And who among us doesn’t like a nip, of course, but I’d say he’s a drinker no matter what he said about only beer on Mondays.”