Authors: Selene Chardou
“I suppose if she’s happy then who are we to criticize, right?”
“You’re just the same. She’s lucky to have you as a daughter. You always look at life in the best terms. Yes, you’ve made some mistakes but what young person doesn’t? You were in love, and it’s plain as day you still are.”
Grandma and I were suddenly interrupted with the sound of clicking heels against the hardwood.
Someone whistled. “Wow, look who’s back in town. Hey, Grandma. How are you doin’ you little silly cow?”
I turned and faced my cousin and Dylan’s youngest sister, Fiona. “Nice to see you again too.”
“W
ho said it was nice to see ya? What are you doing here?” Fiona inquired as she placed her hands on slender hips.
I could admit this now that we were more or less the same age but when we were kids, I was jealous of Fiona. She was such a beautiful woman and completely Irish with beauty that would make most men cry.
She had long, dark brown hair, which ended at lower back, bright cornflower blue eyes, and perfect Irish features. She was a better-looking Emily Blunt if that was possible. Her body was still slim with large, high-sitting C-cup breasts and a flat stomach. She wore a short red skirt and a white halter-top that looked like purchases from some cheap store like Hot Topic or Forever 21 but even though her clothes were inexpensive and Chinese-made, they molded to her perfect figure.
Fortunately, despite her promiscuity and rampant drug use, her alabaster skin was perfect except for a brand new bruise, which was turning purple on her upper arm. She was accompanied by her best friend, Chloe, a surly redhead with a smattering of freckles but still equally beautiful as Fiona.
“Want some breakfast, dears?” Grandma inquired as she got up while Fiona and Chloe sat down at the table.
“That would be great, Grandma,” Fiona replied as her blue eyes glared angrily into mine. “Anyway, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Where’d you get that nice little souvenir on your arm?” I inquired out loud.
“That fuckin’ Jig she dates,” Chloe responded in anger.
“He’s
only
half-black—it’s not his fault his mom fucked some Caribbean bastard. He’s as Irish as you and me. After all, he’s from Belfast,” Fiona snapped.
I laughed out loud. “Oh…my…God. You are seriously not dating Brandon Cleary?”
“Yeah, so what? He works with
your
boyfriend,” Chloe interrupted. “You should know they are business partners since he doesn’t trust anyone other than Dylan if they aren’t from the home country. That was pretty funny when they came back from Ireland, and the immigration officer thought Brandon’s Irish passport was a fake. He had to really to turn up his Northern Irish accent. He finally had to start speaking Gaelic just to get past the fuckhead—sorry for the language, Mrs. McKenna.”
My grandmother laughed. “No worries, Chloe. I remember when you were in diapers, and I was young once too you know.”
“So, what are you doing here again? You never answered that question.”
“I transferred to Boston University and I didn’t want to go back to L.A. so I came straight here.”
Fiona chuckled. “Well, I know it wasn’t the weather that brought you here. Granted the summer will be lovely and fall will be…well, fall, but are you ready for your first winter here in almost five years? They haven’t gotten any better you know, despite all that talk about global warming and all that other crap.”
Strike one: Fiona was a gorgeous woman but she was also the same idiot I remembered when we were children. It was true, I had rarely done a college paper in my life but it wasn’t because I was stupid. It was just easier to pay some student on a full-ride to do it for me.
Fiona had never been particularly smart in school, and this was the reason why she never went to college. Brainpower and Fiona simply did not mix and the woman was genuinely dumb as a box of rocks.
“Just because the winters are still cold, and it snows doesn’t mean global warming doesn’t exist,” I replied before I polished off the rest of my breakfast. “If you cracked open a book or hell, just spent a day on Google, you’d
know
that.”
“Oh, listen to Ms. Fancy pants,” Chloe chided as Grandma set their plates in front of them. “Don’t let us
little
people get in your way or anything because you’re just so
smart,
and full of knowledge.”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, it’s not like we’re gonna find any candidates between the two of you for
Good Will Hunting
—”
“Not unless it’s sucking Matt Damon’s cock before he married that Spic bitch,” Chloe interrupted.
“Um, do you know how to talk about any ethnic group without insulting the whole population as a whole?”
“Not really. Look at that half-guinea, half-Spic bitch Dylan is dating. I would have done him in a heartbeat, and look who he’s stuck with. She’ll be preggers before you know it. It’s not like those types take care of themselves, and to top it off, she’s a fucking Oxyball addict.”
“Makes her nice and pliable for my brother dearest,” Fiona said with a mouth stuffed full of food. “My brother would rather them just lie on their back than do all the heavy lifting. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you,
Elvira
?”
I winced at the use of my full Christian name. I didn’t mind when my grandmother did it but to hear it out of Fiona’s perfect mouth really incensed me. I finished my coffee, stood, took my plate and cup to the sink before walking out of the kitchen. The last thing I heard was a burst of laughter between the two women.
My grandmother had joined my grandfather on the sofa. They were busy talking to Patrick and Clara. I leaned over, kissed and hugged both. “I gotta get going but I’ll be back over again. Nice to see you again, Uncle Patrick and Aunt Clara…take care of little Kieran.”
“Kieran’s fine,” Clara snapped before she joined hands with her husband. “See you again I’m sure.”
“Not in this lifetime if I can help it,” I murmured under my breath as I waved to my grandparents and left through the front door.
The day had already warmed up and the sun shined through the trees as I walked down the street. It was times like this that really made me love this area of the country. It was like the Bermuda Triangle—once it had you in its clutches, it was hard as hell to leave. That is why so many people who had grown up here never left. I would have never left if it had been my choice because I adored Boston.
By the time I got back to Dylan and Finn’s, both men were up while an already-stoned Carmelita greeted me with a smirk on her face.
“Oh, the bitch is back. Where did you go anyway?” she inquired out loud.
“To my grandparents down the street,” I replied though I was addressing both Dylan and Finn instead of her.
“Like their new house? I bought that one before I bought this one. I didn’t want them stuck in Dorchester a minute more than they had to,” Dylan explained as he sucked from a bottle of Budweiser.
“I can make some coffee if you want me to,” I said noticing it was barely eleven in the morning and yet my cousin was already hitting the booze.
“That’s okay. Finn is the sober one and actually doesn’t start getting high until the evening but me—any time is Miller time.”
“Even if you’re drinking a Budweiser?”
“I don’t start on the Guinness until mid-afternoon. This is piss, and barely gives me a buzz.”
“Yeah, and we have business to do this evening so don’t get too far-gone,” Finn spoke up as he swigged from a large mug of coffee.
I walked over to him and kissed him on the mouth. “I ate at my grandparents so I am good but…this business you two have to do this evening, are you gonna be all right?”
“It’s a simple drop, babe. We aren’t going to rob a bank,” he replied in his mixture of Irish and Bostonian accent.
“Then you don’t mind if I go?” I inquired as I stared into his crystal blue eyes.
“Absolutely fucking not. We aren’t dealin’ with the Irish tonight—we got some Haitians to hook up with, and I don’t trust ‘em as far as I can throw them. You stay here with Lita.”
I shook my head slowly. “Finn, if you want me, if I am gonna be your girl then I have to know everything that is going on, and that means going out on drops with you two. I’m not some vestal virgin so don’t treat me like one.”
He set his mug down on the kitchen counter, and grabbed me by the arms. “Babe, this is no joke. I don’t want anything to happen to you and if they hurt one hair on your head, I’d fucking kill ‘em all, and gladly serve the time at Cedar Junction.”
“I’m not staying here with that Oxyball head. I’m going whether you want me to or not,” I said with fierce determination in my voice.
“That’s my girl.” Finn wrapped his arms around my waist. “Are you sure you’re okay? Is there anything you wanna talk about?”
I didn’t know whether we should talk about it so soon. I wasn’t even sure I had accepted the situation. It was best to just forget about everything from the past that was unpleasant but something nagged at my gut, and wouldn’t allow me to let go.
“If we are going to talk, I’d rather we do it in private,” I whispered to him.
He nodded his head. We walked outside to the backyard where there was a neatly trimmed lawn with two comfortable, cloth sun loungers. He sat down on one before he pulled me into his lap. Once he laid out, I got more comfortable and put my head on his chest.
“What happened when you went to visit your grandparents’?” he inquired, his voice deep yet soothing.
“I ran into Patrick and Clara. They had Kieran with them and nearly had a shit fit because I had shown up. Then, if my visit couldn’t get any crappier, Fiona and Chloe pay a visit after all night clubbin’ and I find out about this new business partner of yours…Brandon…isn’t that his name?”
“Yeah and he’s totally cool people. Dylan is a bit weary of him but he’s completely professional. He’s on the straight and narrow—doesn’t drink, smoke or do any kind of drugs. His mother was a big time strawberry back in Ireland…that’s how she got him. She ran away to London for a while and got caught up with a big time pimp. He had her on the streets hookin’, and he was usin’ her as well. It’s lucky Brandon is okay outside of a few anger issues he can suffer from time to time. She used drugs and drank like a fish the whole time she was pregnant with him,” Finn explained.
“I guess that explains the mark on Fiona’s arm. She said Brandon did it.”
“Brandon didn’t hit Fiona. He loves that bitch though I don’t know why…well, actually I do. She could be a dead-ringer for his mam if she had taken care of herself, and hadn’t allowed her life to get out of her control. Fiona has an issue of being faithful and chances are she fucked some random guy at a club and he roughed her up a bit. The only thing she is good at is having them wear condoms. Last thing she wants to do is bring something home to Brandon.”
“I don’t know,” I began, “Patrick and Clara were just so mean to me—it’s like they hate me for giving them a gift they couldn’t get on their own. They didn’t want me to spend any extra time with Kieran, and they totally acted
really
strange. I think they honestly thought I was going to pick him up, and walk out of the house with him but why would I do that? How much sense does that make when I am in college and he’s our secret? You know how much trouble I would get in if any of those tabloids ever found out the truth? Athena Donahue’s daughter knocked up at fifteen and gives birth to a secret baby?”
“And with someone like me? Basically an Irish gangster who is no better than a drug dealer? Yeah, that is enough to ruin someone’s career. All I know is there was a serious issue that happened with Kieran when he was a baby. This is all passed along the grapevine shit because I wasn’t here but since then, they have been ultra protective of him. They left the state, settled in New Haven, and make it their business to visit this place as little as possible. Basically, they come enough to keep up appearances and that is it.”