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No Frigging Around with Moira Rose, City Councilor

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Moira sat alone in Town Hall, filing her nails while the notes from last week’s council meeting sat unread on her desk. The door opened, jerking her out of concentration on her pinky finger and causing her to sit up straight. To her absolute wonderment, it was none other than David’s butter voiced beau, gracing her with his welcomed presence, a tea in hand. 

“Well, what do I owe your company, sweet Pehh…”

“Patrick. Hi, Mrs. Rose, I came to get a signature on our permit renewal for the store. Doing alright today?” 

He outstretched a hand to shake hers, the charmer, before handing a paper over. She grabbed it with a flourish and scribbled absentmindedly while smiling up at dear Patrick. She didn’t get many visitors when she held office hours, a welcome but peculiar phenomenon since she had begun her term. Patrick was the perfect constituent to engage in lunch-time conversation with.

“Yes, just construing the latest meeting minutes, you know, lots to do to fulfill the necessary duties of council women. But none more important than speaking with David’s beloved! I understand there is a reason to celebrate that today.”

“Oh sure, yeah. Four months. I’m guessing you guys saw the cookie, too?”

His jovial grin sent a spark of gaiety through Moira, “Yes, Pat, yes we did. And I’m sure David has extended his invitation to tonight’s festivities?”

His head tilted and eyebrows furrowed, “Ahh, festivities?”

“David must have told you, dear. Tonight we’re dining al fresco!” Her hands waved around, “To celebrate your affection lasting a modest four months,” she exclaimed proudly. She really was rapt with anticipation for the evening. 

“Oh wow, that’s so sweet! Sounds like a great time. I hear four months is a record for David, which I’m honored to hold.” Moira watched him shuffle his feet before leaning back against her desk, “Best four months of my life.” 

What an amatory declaration, she thought.

“Well if the musical profession of your paramore was any indicator, I would say we all will benefit from your devotion.”

“Oh yeah, I saw you were at the open mic night!”

“There wouldn’t be a single soul who could deny that your talents would be a welcomed treat tonight. You must bring your instrument and grace us again. You know, Johnny wasn’t able to attend and it’s a shame he hasn’t heard you sing. A terrible shame!”

“I don’t know if David could handle two public performances from me in one week.” He chuckled and Moira smiled with realization that simply put, Patrick cared about her son’s dignity.

“Oh, Patrick,” she leaned back in her chair covering her heart with both her hands before reaching for her tea and taking a sip. “Well, if David doesn’t share the same sentiment with me, I would believe it an act of perjury. Do you think he will be able to push through for our benefit?” She winked.

“I think so,” he chuckled again before looking to the floor.

“I hope so. It would only be fair. Please tell me yes.”

As fate would have it, moments later David walked through the door, going on about some van on the train tracks.

“David, blame me.”

“Oh, I do,” his eyebrows almost reached his hairline, like a deranged zealot.

“Patrick was about to slip away with the signatures when I corralled him into a little lunchtime chin wag.”

Patrick now looked at David, “Yes, which is how I found out about the barbecue that I was invited to, but didn't know about.”

Watching them go back and forth, Moira only felt a swell of affection towards the two of them. Ever since the open mic, she had started to understand just how notable this relationship was to David. An invited exception to the ever-aging rule. 

Upon watching Patrick exit, and a perfunctory and playful smack to his hip, she was left to share that with her first born. It was time to embrace the present, David.