“The theft of a collection of Celtic artifacts baffles Bangor police. Last night, thieves bypassed more valuable pieces to steal items from a Celtic collection on loan from a Scottish museum. With no sign of a forced break-in, detectives are trying to determine how the thieves gained entry to the building.” When the clip ended, Danny switched off the TV. Anything Celtic set off his internal sensors. He needed access to a computer. Maybe Mandy would let him use her laptop. And on that note, it was time to get moving.

He grabbed his running shoes from the corner and shoved one foot in a sneaker, then the other. Dropping to one knee, he tied shoe number one. By the time he got to number two, his bum hand was shaking so hard he couldn’t hold on to the laces.

His chest burned. Sometimes, the smallest roadblocks were the hardest to overcome. He swallowed his frustration. This was what he wanted when he volunteered for this trip, wasn’t it? To be on his own. To not have his siblings there to jump in and help him with everything. More than a year after his war injury and medical discharge, Danny had come to the conclusion that the only way to reenter the pool of self-reliant humans was a giant swan dive. Testing the waters with a pinky toe only gave him more opportunities to quit.

After three more attempts, Danny gave up. If he rested his hand, the muscles would calm down. He tucked his laces into the top of his running shoe, but only because his stomach was audibly growling. As his siblings kept telling him, Sullivans weren’t quitters.

Most of the time, Danny believed them.

But right now, packing up his shit and going home was hugely tempting.

He left the room and jogged down the stairs. The clinking of utensils on dishes drew him through the doorway at the back of the parlor. The dining room held eight square tables with four place settings apiece. On the far wall, a long oak sideboard boasted an assortment of breakfast foods. Beverages in urns and glass pitchers were lined up on a buffet on the adjoining wall. In between was a doorway Danny assumed led to the kitchen. Only two tables were occupied. An older couple dressed for some sort of outdoor pursuit were finishing up close to the door, and four old guys in fishing hats were tucking in to full plates in the corner.

Danny grabbed a thick mug from the closest table and filled it with coffee. Sunrise peeked through the side windows as he perused the chafing dishes. He loaded a plate with pancakes, bacon, and whole wheat toast. One-handed, the process took him a while. Once seated, he ate with rapid efficiency, keeping one eye on the doorway.

When he was finished, he bent down and slowly tied his laces on the first try. Patience was a virtue he often neglected.