Catherine is sitting in the car while her father and Jack, whom she loves to distraction, discuss what they will do about her pregnancy

.

Jack leaped to his feet and shook Max’s hand. "Thanks for coming in, Max. We need to talk."

"So Catherine said."

"Poor Catherine. She’s gotten herself into a bit of trouble. As her employer, I feel we men have to help her straighten it out. Did you know that your daughter had been raped in the park on her way home from the campaign celebration party?"

"Good God! She never said a word." Max attempted to reach for the chair seat but his hand kept missing. Finally he sat. Planting his feet firmly on the floor, he leaned forward. "I thought Catherine was with you that night, that you were seeing her home. Why weren’t you looking after her, as any gentleman would?"

"I intended to take her but she wanted to leave early. I had to stay behind with my guests. She refused a ride with one of my constituents and insisted on going home alone. Now, regrettably she finds herself with child." He held up his hand to stop Max from springing at him, and continued. "I’ve offered to cover her expenses and send her to a proper place to have the child, perhaps a small apartment in Scranton. Then you can arrange an adoption--"

Max jumped up, shaking his fist in Jack’s face. "You bastard!" Max lunged at Jack’s throat. But Jack caught his arms.

"Max, let’s be reasonable. Your daughter chased me. She’s obviously not who you raised her to be, and we must find a way to help the poor girl. I have a few ideas--"

"I’ll bet you do, you son-of-a-bitch, Irish trash." Max dropped back into the chair, shaking his head. "How can you sit there, calmly planning my daughter’s future to suit yourself? Where’s your compassion? Where’s your humanity?"

"I’m doing the best I can. Certainly I’ll not mention this to anyone in case they should get the idea that it’s my issue she’s carrying."

"You’ve thought this through suspiciously well. Is that how you’ve handled other women you’ve sullied?"

"That’s very unkind of you, Max. I’m offering your daughter a chance at a life without shame--away from here."

"How convenient for you. What you’re suggesting is exile from her family. But, hell, she’ll be out of your hair--no worries for you. Are you sure this isn’t your child? If this is your child, Jack, you have an obligation--"

"Hardly mine," Jack said, looking away. "It couldn’t be mine. But I’ve calmed her down, told her we can be secretly engaged--very secretly--you understand."

"I’m not sure I do. She’s devoted to you. Engaged? How did you get her to agree to give up the child then? Or did you?"

"She’s a practical woman; she sees how this would end any chance for our future. You must have intended this from the start, Max, getting your oldest girl married into money. It’s not my fault that I didn’t play into your scheme." Jack paced, his fingers pressed together as if in prayer. "I can make her life comfortable until she delivers. That’s time enough to break the engagement and tell her I don’t want to adopt some other man’s bastard."

Max pounded his fist on Jack’s desk. "I know who the bastard in this woodpile is. You think you’re so bloody generous. Well, fuck you. Unlike you Micks, we Welsh take care of our own. She’s my daughter. She should have come to me first. But I suppose she thought her lover would look after her." Max stood up, leveling his gaze on his new enemy. "How could you?"

"The woman was assaulted. There is no lover. She’s deluded herself into thinking I love her. We’d been developing a working friendship--"

"Don’t insult my intelligence."

"Max, Ma-ax. I’ve shown an interest in her. She’s really not marriage material. I have ambitious plans. But I don’t think she’ll leave quietly unless she thinks I’m going to marry her in the future--and even adopt her... her kid. She’ll believe the engagement is real just to save her sanity."

"Are you accusing my daughter of being insane? You’re a goddamn rat, Jack, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. You cold-blooded bastard! I have to hand it to you though, you make one hell of a politician--not an ounce of integrity in you."

"That’s not true; I’m being responsible for my cherished employee."

"Are you? I doubt that."

"Have it your way, Max. Do we understand each other?"

"Oh, I understand you, Jack O’Brien. Thanks but no thanks. I’ll take care of Catherine. She can go to The Shelter Arms. She shouldn’t be hidden away like one of your other kept women. Don’t think I don’t know about them. Everyone knows."

"I’ve no idea what you’re talking about." Jack smiled though perfect teeth. "Let’s concentrate on Catherine for a minute," Jack said. "There’s no telling what she might do to herself in her state of mind. She’s already had a few accidents. Seems to be on a self-destructive bent these days. It would be a shame if she were to... accidentally, of course, kill herself. What a mess for all concerned." Jack put on a sad face and sat back into his captain’s chair, looking benevolent.

"You’ll never convince me that this is not a mess of your making," Max snarled. "The least you can do is pay me for the time she’ll miss from work, the four or five months. Time enough to tell the poor girl she’s not engaged to the father of her child. Raped in the park, indeed! Even if she were raped, it’s your fault. You should have seen her home. You invited her, so it was your responsibility to take care of her safety. A real gentleman, not some fresh-off-the-boat Micktrash like you, would have driven her to her door." Max stood over Jack, his fists shaking in Jack’s face. "I should kill you! How could you, you arrogant --"

Jack rolled his chair away from Max’s ire. "All right, then, Mr. Jones. I’m sorry you feel that way. Until your daughter is discharged from The Shelter Arms, or wherever you choose to send her, there will be no visits from me. Anyway, I can’t afford to be seen crawling in and out of that place like a teenager in heat."

"Which is exactly what you are." Max spat on Jack’s desk. "Goodbye, Mr. O’Brien. Don’t expect my union’s backing for your campaign for the state assembly."

Jack looked puzzled. "But you said I’d make a great politician."

"I didn’t say I’d vote for you, you son-of-a-bitch." He flung open the door and stomped out, leaving Jack in a blast of cold air.

~ * ~