Chapter 89 - Don't Go Anywhere
Ground floor grocery store.
My maternal grandfather was chatting with a customer.
Not wanting to interrupt, I slowly looked around the shop.
True to its nature, the grocery store sold all sorts of things: the basics like vegetables, grains, and dried foods, even olive oil.
There was also a small amount of artichokes.
After a while, once the customer left, I felt my grandfather's hand come to rest on my shoulder.
"Ciaran. If there's anything you want to eat, help yourself. It all belongs to Grandpa."
He started crying again, repeating how terribly he'd wronged our family.
"When I die, I'll make sure to apologize to your father. I don't know if that will be enough…"
"We really don't mind, so please don't say things like that. By the way, where's the food Grandma asked for?"
"I'll pack it for you right now."
Just as my grandfather began placing the food into an envelope, gathering things into a bucket, the shop door swung open and a group of people came in.
"Father, I'm here!"
The middle-aged man at the front smiled as he greeted my grandfather. He glanced at me and lowered his voice.
"Do Chinese people live around here too?"
"…He's your nephew, you fool."
"!"
Noah O'Connell—my mother's eldest brother and the eldest son of this family—blinked at me.
"So you're Ciaran?"
"It's nice to meet you, Big Uncle."
After his initial surprise, a mix of complicated emotions flashed across his face as he looked at me.
Then he pulled me into a hug.
"You've been through a lot… You've grown up so well."
My aunt smiled warmly, and standing next to her, four cousins—from their mid-twenties down to their teens—stared at me with curious eyes.
"You've come at just the right time. It'd be too much for Ciaran to carry everything himself, so would you give him a hand taking these upstairs?"
"Robert, Brendan. You heard your grandfather, right?"
At my aunt's words, the two strapping cousins—both in their twenties—started picking up the dishes one by one.
"Ciaran needs to help me for a moment, so you two go on up first."
"See you in a bit."
Uncle Noah patted my shoulder, then left the store with the rest of the family.
Once we were alone, Grandpa spoke to me.
"It's going to get crowded upstairs, so there are a few things I'd like to ask you before then."
"Go ahead."
"Is your mother doing well at work?"
"Of course. I think she's making a pretty good living."
"Is that so?"
He smiled with relief, then started asking about my siblings.
"I heard you and your siblings shine shoes. Is the work going okay?"
"Liam has been attending a nearby public school for a few months now. Roa will be starting next year."
"Oh, that's wonderful. And how about you?"
"…I manage a few stores."
"You manage stores? The boss must really trust you. He hasn't tried to cheat you out of money or anything like that, has he?"
"If he did, I wouldn't be able to do the job. The pay isn't bad, either."
"That's wonderful. Truly wonderful."
Tears welled up in Grandpa's eyes again.
To avoid the awkward atmosphere, I asked him a question.
"Isn't it tough running the store?"
"Tough? Just being able to work at my age is something to be grateful for. And Catherine helps out, so it's manageable."
Catherine is my youngest aunt.
Even after getting married, she's continued to live with my maternal grandparents—not because of any issues, but because her husband, Derrick, is a sales rep who travels a lot for work and is rarely home.
"You'll see her soon. When they were little, Catherine used to stick to your mom like glue, so she'll be happy to see you."
Grandpa wiped away tears again, lamenting that it was his fault that their close relationship was broken.
Thinking of the man I'd run into on the stairs, I asked, "How are the neighbors?"
"Oh, they're mostly good people. The only issue is, some of them have trouble paying rent on time."
Rent?
Wait, are they landlords?!
When I opened my eyes wide in surprise, Grandpa gave a wry smile.
"I rent this building and manage it—plus, I run the boarding house," he explained.
"Oh, I see."
It was a pretty common business model.
For example, if you had a five-story tenement house with twenty rooms and rented them out, the landlord could expect to make about $300 in profit, charging an average of $15 per room.
However, landlords who owned multiple buildings often preferred not to manage them directly—they'd lease the entire property to someone else at a lower rate.
And if you took responsibility for the building's upkeep as well, you could rent it for even less. Boarding houses in big cities usually followed this arrangement.
So, my maternal grandparents were running both the grocery store on the first floor and the boarding house upstairs, earning income from both.
Maybe it wasn't a fortune, but it seemed enough to get by.
"Are you pretty close with the building's owner?"
"That's thanks to Derrick—he introduced me," Grandpa replied.
"He knows a lot of people."
Apparently, Grandpa thought highly of Derrick's wide network, since he worked as a sales rep.
"So, what exactly does Uncle Derrick do?"
"He supplies cigarettes. He's not tied to any one company—he buys wholesale from distributors and delivers to various stores."
Cigarette sales were regulated differently in every state. In New York, you could buy cigarettes from street newspaper stands, bars, grocery stores, pharmacies, hotels, even train stations. It seemed my youngest uncle Derrick delivered cigarettes to all those places.
With a family this big, it was no wonder everyone had such a variety of jobs.
It was interesting to find out, one by one, what kinds of jobs my cousins might have.
"But what happens if someone doesn't pay the rent?"
Sometimes, a rental business can fall apart because of out-of-control tenants.
Rent payments can get delayed all the time, or if a tenant skips out without paying, you're suddenly left with a vacant room and take a big loss either way.
"Grandpa handles all that well, so you don't need to worry about it."
With that, he handed me a bag of food.
That was his way of telling me to head upstairs first.
I left the store and went up to the second floor. As soon as I opened the front door, a lively commotion greeted me.
Liam and Roa were surrounded by cousins, basking in their attention, and Mother was sitting at the table chatting with Uncle Noah, Uncle Larry, and their wives.
The warmth of a big family—something I'd never experienced even in my previous life.
Just looking at the scene brought a smile to my face.
"Ciaran, come over here and have a seat."
Uncle Noah called me over, pointing to the seat beside him.
"I heard you took Larry to the hospital?"
"My colleagues helped me."
"I see... Really, you did a wonderful thing. Considering you'd have every reason to resent us... Honestly, you turned out to be such a good kid."
Today, Mother's eyes are full of warmth whenever she looks at me—as if she's gazing at a son who just got into a top-tier university.
In any case, the awkwardness that had separated us for over a decade disappeared in an instant.
Mother, who had been tense all the way here, was now smiling so brightly it was almost startling.
Her religion had something to do with it, too.
The family, Catholic for generations in Ireland, was delighted that Mother, who had switched to Protestantism, had come back to Catholicism.
Actually, Mother had only become Protestant for missionary work, and she'd made that choice mostly to ease the family's financial burden by having one less mouth to feed.
I knew this, but now there was no need to persuade anyone or seek their understanding.
I quietly slipped out of the conversation and went over to my maternal grandmother, who was grilling the meat.
"Is there anything I can help with?"
"Aren't you sweet. Grandma's got it covered, so why don't you go sit and enjoy some time with the others?"
"I always handled the grilling at home. I'm actually pretty skilled at it."
The moment I picked up the knife to prepare the meat, I couldn't help but frown.
The blade was in terrible shape.
I'll have to sharpen it before I leave.
While we were preparing dinner, Catherine—the youngest aunt—and her family arrived.
They lived with my maternal grandparents. Since she was the sister Mother was closest to, their reunion was especially emotional. They hugged and sobbed together as if they'd been torn apart for years.
In the meantime, I had a chance to chat with Uncle Derrick, who was dressed sharply in a suit. He must have heard something from my maternal grandfather downstairs, because he showed an interest in the store I managed.
"You work on Allen Street?"
"Yes. It's a lingerie shop called Intima."
"Isn't that the place that just opened a dance hall in the basement?"
How far did he go with his cigarette business?
Derrick knew every corner of Manhattan like the back of his hand.
Of course, there was good reason for that.
"As soon as I heard about the dance hall opening, I went to check it out, but it was hard to get a meeting with the boss."
"······."
"I've heard rumors that the place is run by gangsters. Is that true? Are you alright working there?"
"······ I haven't really run into them, so it's been fine."
"So you haven't met the boss either. I need to get in touch for a job down there."
"Is that for cigarette delivery?"
Derrick grinned and nodded.
"I've got a friend who handles alcohol too. We went there for the opening, and they said they'd pass my info to the boss, but I never heard back."
That rings a bell.
The flyers Patrick had given me to review.
Was it among those?
I found myself growing more interested in Derrick and his friends.
"When it comes to liquor, you load it on a truck and make deliveries, right?"
"That's right. Guys like me aren't company employees—we get our goods from wholesalers or, well... sometimes from bootleggers, and then we sell them."
"Do you have a lot of friends in that line of work?"
"Well, it's a surprisingly small world, so we tend to share information with each other."
Whenever a new bar, salon, or dance hall opens, there are always salesmen who rush over immediately.
Cigarettes and alcohol are the big sellers, and independent operators—unlike the company men—sometimes handle smuggled goods to make a profit.
Derrick was highly likely to be involved in that as well.
As ideas for business kept branching out in my head, Derrick said he had to help close up the grocery store and went downstairs to the first floor with my youngest aunt.
***
8 p.m.
Everyone had arrived.
Starting with my maternal grandparents, Noah, Larry, Mother (Nora), Ted, Anna, and Catherine's families were all gathered together.
Mother would get teary-eyed and act out a melodrama every time she saw her brothers and sisters, but with one person—Ted, who arrived last—she was clearly uncomfortable.
Ted, for his part, looked overjoyed and even shed tears of emotion, but Mother kept her distance and seemed awkward around him.
So, in this tiny house, there were a total of 34 people—including all the husbands, wives, and cousins except for Mother's own—and they had all come together.
This was how the family of my maternal grandparents, who had come from Ireland in 1895, had grown so much.
No wonder America's population was exploding.
Immigrants kept coming, and they were constantly creating new families of their own.
The two rooms were taken over by the cousins, while the living room belonged to the adults.
I watched the family from somewhere in between.
What interested me most were the relatives' occupations. First, the eldest son, Noah, worked at a trucking company.
With Ford launching its 1-ton truck, the Model T, this year, several businesses were jumping into the industry.
I didn't know all the details, but Noah, who had been a truck driver, was now working as an employee at a newly established company.
Next up was Larry, whom I knew better than anyone.
As soon as the family had all gathered, he immediately broke the good news he had been waiting to share.
"Mother, Father. I've been promoted to harbor manager at the Clyde Steamship Company."
"Oh, that's wonderful news. You always complained your back hurt—so now that you're a manager, it's a desk job, right?"
"Yes. I won't have to haul any more cargo."
"Wow, congratulations, Larry."
With that, the congratulations from my grandparents and siblings poured in.
Just as Mother, who had been waiting for the right moment, began to step forward, Uncle Ted suddenly cleared his throat.
"I can't let my brother beat me. I got promoted too."
Which company are you working for?
"Did you get promoted to lieutenant?"
"That's right! Please call me Lieutenant Ted."
"Congratulations."
"You've worked so hard all this time. Always take care of yourself."
Lieutenant.
The title 'Lieutenant' I knew was usually used in fire departments, the US military, or correctional facilities.
Which one was it?
As I wondered, my eyes met Mother's.
The moment I saw her bitter expression and wavering eyes, I realized.
So that was it.
NYPD Lieutenant...
Sigh.
Now I instantly understood why Mother always felt uncomfortable around Uncle Ted.
Well, it would be strange if there weren't at least one police officer in an Irish family.
Even though she knew, why hadn't Mother ever told me until now?
Was she afraid I'd feel intimidated?
My head was spinning when suddenly, Uncle Noah pulled out an envelope Then he pressed it firmly into Mother's hand.
"Mom, Dad and I saved this up bit by bit."
"What is this? You really don't need to do things like this."
"Stop being so proud, forget about work for a while, and buy the kids something nice to eat."
Mother pressed her lips together and suddenly stood up from her seat.
"Nora, that's not what we meant."
"Please, just sit down."
Noah and Larry both looked uncomfortable.
Then Mother placed a large envelope she had brought from home on the table.
"This is for Mom and Dad. And this is…"
"Oh my, is that a brassiere?"
Everyone seemed to know about the brassiere.
That meant word had spread widely among the women, and there was even someone here actually wearing one.
Youngest Aunt Catherine, who had checked the label, opened her eyes wide in surprise.
"This is the one Derek bought me at Macy's, isn't it!? It's really 'Free Your Body.' Nora, why did you bring such expensive gifts?"
The corners of Mother's mouth twitched.
She glanced at me, her face filled with emotion, and raised her voice.
"I'm the boss of the company."
"...Huh?"
"I'm the boss of Free Your Body."
The men looked puzzled, while the women's jaws dropped as they cried out in surprise.
"You mean you made this, big sister?!"
"Wow! Nora, you're the head of Free Your Body?!"
Even the cousins in their twenties who had been in another room came running out.
"Auntie what? What about Aunt Nora?"
"Oh wow, what are those brassieres?!"
As everyone excitedly crowded around looking at the underwear, Derek, the youngest uncle, quietly came up to me.
"So that lingerie shop on the first floor sells these?"
"Yes. They only carry my mother's company's products."
"Then you're not just managing a store, are you?"
After grasping what sort of store it was, Derek gave me an intrigued look.
"Not long ago, I heard that the boss of the sewing machine company your mother worked at died, and people even protested about it."
"A lot has happened."
"I see. Catherine can finally sleep easy now."
Even among family, there can be jealousy and rivalry.
I wondered if anyone felt that way, so I glanced around at everyone's faces, but, just like Aunt Catherine the youngest, everyone seemed genuinely happy for her.
"I was surprised when you, with your strong pride, said you'd come here so willingly. Now I see it was because of such good news. I'm really glad for you, truly."
"Congratulations! Can I come visit your company, big sis?"
"Of course."
Christmas Eve deepened into night.
Instead of with Teddy, Roa fell asleep cuddled up with cousins her own age.
Liam was off with three cousins his age, giggling and chatting away.
Out in the living room, the drinking had picked up.
Uncle Noah, the eldest, was drinking whiskey and getting louder and louder.
"I was driving a truck all the way out to Ohio, and suddenly, these guys on horseback started chasing after us. I realized we were in real trouble, so I told the guard sitting in the passenger seat to start shooting. We were carrying expensive cargo, after all."
He said that, since the shipping company had just barely started, he had to treat the clients' goods like his own life.
"I was gripping the steering wheel with one hand and firing my pistol behind me with the other. That did the trick—they must've decided it wasn't worth it, because they turned tail and ran off."
If that's true, he's pretty capable.
Perfect for running whiskey bootlegging shipments.
He might already be doing that, for all I know.
Driving a truck all the way to Ohio instead of just using a freight train?
Maybe it's because of train schedules, fixed routes, or costs, but a lot of times people use trucks just to avoid cargo inspections.
As Uncle Noah's story kept dragging on, I started to get bored.
There were too many people and the place was cramped.
I decided to step outside for some air, making sure not to draw attention, and slipped out the front door.
Out in the hallway, I could hear a door opening and closing on the floor above.
By the time I was slowly making my way down the stairs—
"It's loud in there, isn't it?"
It was the man I'd seen earlier that day.
His glazed eyes suggested he'd been drinking.
"It's noisy up there too. Damn, my ears are killing me."
That used to be me in my past life.
Are you dealing with PTSD or something?
But as the man came down the stairs, he cocked his head in confusion Come to think of it, I wasn't wearing my scarf.
"You're Asian?" he asked.
When I didn't answer, his eyes narrowed.
"You little shit, you just gonna ignore me?"
After a brief moment of consideration, I spoke.
"I'm mixed-blood."
"Tch, so you're the grandson Old Man Matthew was talking about."
"What's he been saying about me?"
The guy came right up to me as he finished coming down the stairs, shrugging his shoulders with a sly grin curling up both corners of his mouth.
"I don't know… Something about how his damn daughter got involved with some Chinaman and had—!"
I reached out my hand, and he reflexively jerked his upper body back. In that instant, he tried to counterattack—he kicked out with his right foot, aiming for my chest.
Looked like he wanted to shove me down the stairs, but instead, I slammed my elbow down on his leg and, at the same time, grabbed his coat with my other hand and pulled him toward me.
He was standing three or four steps above me, so with his balance thrown off, he was yanked toward me like he was magnetized.
And using that momentum, I hurled him down to the bottom of the stairs.
Thud!
The foot of the stairs led directly to the Tannerment entrance.
The guy who'd been thrown to the floor groaned and writhed in pain.
I slowly walked over and yanked him up by the scruff of his neck.
"What did my maternal grandfather say about me?"
"…Ugh…"
Wham.
I drove my knee into his stomach. Just as I was twisting his arm, Ted came rushing down the stairs, gun drawn.
"Anthony! You bastard, get away from him right now!"
"…Damn it, you should be saying that to your nephew…"
Quietly, I leaned in and whispered into Anthony's ear.
— Shut up. Open your mouth and you're dead.
It must have been too dark for him to see clearly.
Anyway, we slowly disentangled ourselves, and I stepped back.
With his hands raised, Anthony exhaled a long sigh toward the ceiling.