Disclaimer: I don't own anything BDS or BDS2. Nor any songs/movies mentioned within the story itself.
Chapter 1: The Move
Grand Rapids, MI, 7:45pm:
The sun was shining brightly, although it was setting and the birds were chirping. It seemed like God couldn't have gave young Amara a more perfect night to leave her old life behind in Grand Rapids and ship out to Boston.
"You don't have to leave Amara...We can find work for you here." An older woman spoke timidly to the short brunette who was stuffing her car full of boxes. "The children will miss you so much." The woman began to tear up.
Amara turned around and wrapped her arms around the woman, pulling her into a tight hug, "I know Rita, but this job opening in Boston was a sign from God himself. I have to take it, something inside me keeps telling me to go. I can't ignore it any longer." She tried to explain her reasoning for uprooting her entire life in Michigan.
Rita wiped her tears from her cheeks, "The violence in that damned city though. I feel like the next time I'll see your face it'll be on the 6 o'clock news." Amara smiled faintly then tried to change the subject, "You know you've been like a mother to me Rita…" Amara started as she dug through her purse for something.
"It was my calling. When I saw you in that small basket on our doorstep...I knew God had something planned for you and that it was my job to shape you into the beautiful woman you are now." Amara pulled out a small wooden rosary from her bag and placed it into Rita's palm. "Sister Rita," Amara laughed, "You gave this to me when I was just a small girl. When you would leave and I would miss you so much, just having this with me…" She started to choke back her tears, "Just...just having it with me, I knew I would always be safe. No matter what trouble I got into."
"I can't take this Amara." Rita declined.
Amara forced it back into her hand, "I want you too. I want you to feel that safety and unconditional love I felt all these years." Rita still shook her head.
"I've always felt that way Amara. If I had chosen another path in life instead of becoming a Nun, I would like to think I would have had you as my daughter." Amara broke down into tears as Rita placed the Rosary around her neck. "You best get going. You've got a 14 hours drive ahead of you. It's eight o'clock now, it will be mornin' by the time you get into Boston."
Amara nodded her head. Opening the car door she took a seat and buckled herself in. "Rita…." Amara called out sheepishly.
"Yes dear?"
"If something should happen-" She began.
"Don't say that!" Rita hushed her.
"No, if something should ever happen...don't blame yourself for letting me go. Okay?" Amara started the engine then looked up at Rita who only sighed.
"I can't ever promise you that. Until the day I die, you will always be my responsibility." Rita wiped a stray tear streaming down her cheek, then backed away from the car. "Check in with Father Michaels when you get to Boston. He has a sermon tomorrow morning. It's the Old South Church."
"A sermon in an Irish Church on St. Patrick's Day? Are they serving beer?" Amara joked and Rita rolled her eyes, letting out a small chuckle.
"Go." Rita mouthed to her, pointing towards the road.
"Goodbye, I love you. I love you all." Amara shouted as she drove down the driveway. She looked in her rearview mirror before turning onto the road. Her stomach turned but her heart raced. This was finally it, the beginning of the rest of her life.
Boston, MA, 8:30pm
"So, what's the plan tomorrow boys?" A shaggy hair manned bellowed, tossing both his arms around the shoulder of each man. "St. Patrick's day is the one day a year I can forget about being a dirty Italian and drink like a Irishman."
"Ta be honest Rocco, me brudder and me work 'till six at night. We were jus' plannin' on commin' 'ere after." The one man responded, taking a cigarette from the package in front of him and lighting it.
"Sound like and plan to me!" Rocco grinned, "I expected you to have a more elaborate plan then that though Connor." The other brother snorted while he let out a small laugh, "Som' crazy movie shenanigan aye." He added.
"Exactly Murph! I guess you know your twin better than anyone of us fuckers though." An old man, stuttering to himself passed Rocco a pint of Guinness and Rocco took a large swig of it.
"Maybe we'll all get lucky and some chicks will come to this place for once." Another bummed looking man at the bar chimed in.
"Dat'll be the day…" Connor remarked.
"I would shit my pants if I ever saw a woman that wasn't as manly as I am walk into this bar!" Rocco added.
"So does that mean any woman?" Murphy teased. Rocco swung his hand to slap the back of Murphy's head in retaliation. "Yah, pretty sure any lass has bigger balls than ye!" Connor joined in and was met with a equal slap to the back of the head.
They all laughed and raised their glasses, "Ta maybe seeing a lass in here ta'morrow." said Murphy. "To maybe getting laid by said miracle girl." Rocco winked and clinked his glass then downed the rest of his pint with his friends.
There was barely anyone driving on I-90 at this time of night. Amara looked at her dashboard and stared at the mesmerizing green lights reading 2:00am. She yawned even though she had the equivalent of 3 XL coffees in her system and had just cracked open a Red Bull.
Welcome to the late night talk radio. Coming at ya with some smooth, relaxing jams from 70s, 80s and 90s.
"Fuck that!" Amara groaned and plugged her phone into the car stereo. "Let's get old school up in here…" She laughed to herself as Eagle Eye Cherry's 'Save Tonight' came on.
Amara tapped the wheel to the beat of the song and started to scream the lyrics at the top of her lungs to stay awake just a little bit longer. As she drove, she noted sign markers for Buffalo, Rochester and Auburn, New York.
She noticed the next service station coming up and moved into the right lane, "Time to fuel up girl." She tapped her dashboard then reached down and shook the now empty Red Bull can, "For us both it seems."
She filled up her car with gas then parked it. When Amara exited her car she stretched what was likely the longest stretch of her life. She pulled her shoulder length mousey brown hair into a loose bun and dug her thick rimmed reading glasses out of her bag and put them on.
"Good mornin'." The cashier greeted as Amara walking into the store. "What bring someone as pretty as you in here so early?" He smiled. She could tell he was just trying to be friendly, probably doesn't see a lot of people during the graveyard shift.
"Moving." She answered sweetly. She pulled 4 cans of energy drinks out of the cooler and a bag of chips off the stand. "Where to? Where from?" The cashier inquired as he scanned the item in.
"Boston. From Michigan." She answered.
"That's a pretty big change!" He exclaimed, "What made you want to move so far away?"
She handed him the money and shrugged. "A job I guess. But to be completely honest I felt like a had a sort of revelation like dream...that I am suppose to be there…" She trailed off in her own thoughts about the dream she had weeks prior.
"Well, I hope you find what you're looking for there. I got family up that way so maybe I'll see you around…" He added hopefully.
"If it's meant to be, then it will be." Amara chimed then grabbed her bags and headed back to her car. Once she plopped down in the seat the details of her dream flooded back into her mind.
"Are ya alright lass?" A dark Irish accent called to her. She was soaked from the rain that had been pouring down on her. She kept her eyes fixated on the man knocked out in front of her, her attacker.
"Lass?" The voice called again, and he reached down to brush the tips of his fingers against her bare arm. "Do ya need a doctor or somethin'?" He further quizzed. She snapped out of her daze and looked up to her rescuers face. His eyes were sincere, his facial expression showed one of concern, "Let me help ya up." He extended his hand out to her and she grabbed it hesitantly.
"...thank you…" She said quietly, almost inaudible. She winced in pain as she rose to stand on her feet. The man looked down to her scuffed and bleeding knees. "D'err is always a lot o' broken bottles back here. Do ya want me ta check for any glass?" He offered, still holding her hand.
"No, no...I'm fine. Really. It's not that bad." She dropped his hand and tried to stumble away slowly. Her one knee buckled and she fell into a nearby garbage can. "Motherfuck!" Amara shouted loudly.
The man sauntered over to her and silently gave his hand to her again, "Come lass, let me take care of ye. I won't let anyting bad 'appen." He flashed a charming smile and Amara sat there, debating to take his hand or not.
Amara snapped out of her dreamlike state and glanced over at the clock, it read 6:00AM. How the hell had she been dazed and dreaming while driving for four hours! Sign for Massachusetts were starting to become more frequent. She caught a look her her reflection in the rearview mirror and sighed to herself. Her light, honey coloured eyes were tired and dull looking behind her glasses. Her once loose bun for her hair had half fallen out and mascara was smeared under her eyes.
"Classy Amy." She groaned, referring to her nickname.
Then next three hours seem to zoom past, she witnessed the sun rising and the other tired morning commuters now joining her on the Interstate. She merged onto I-93 and headed towards the Thomas P. O'Neil Jr. Tunnel into Boston.
She pulled her way towards a diner just down the street from the Old South Church and grabbed a small bag from the seat beside her. Amara ran into the store and looked at the waitress behind the counter. "Mind if I use your bathroom?" She asked politely.
"Go nuts." The waitress responded, not overly enthused.
Amara walked into the tiny, dingy looking bathroom and locked the door behind her. She let down her hair and started to strip herself of her grungy, coffee stained moving clothes. She replaced her leggings and frumpy college sweater with a black, mid-thigh skirt and mint green blouse.
She washed her old makeup off her face as quick as lightning then replaced it with a fresh more subtle amount. Amara sprayed her hair with dry shampoo and tousled it around a bit. After brushing her teeth, she shoved everything into her bag and exited the bathroom and approached the counter.
"Thanks dear." Amara expressed and handed the grumpy woman five dollars. She looked up at Amara, "Uh...you don't have to do that girl." She slid the money back to her.
"I know. But it looks like you needed a pick-me-up for the day. It's St. Patricks Day girl, buy yourself a drink later." She winked and left the diner, heading towards the Church. She slipped a small black leather jacket on herself as the wind blew towards her.
She marveled at the beauty of the Old South Church and climbed up the steps slowly. She had not slept in what was close to 20 hours and was craving a bed more than a pew.
As she went to open the doors, they flew open and smacked her in the head. "Ow! Fuck!" She cursed loudly and stumbled back and fell on her behind.
"Shit! Are ye okay lass?" One man asked.
"Way ta go Connor!" The other blamed. Amara rubbed her head then opened her eyes and looked up at the one man offering his hand to her. Her eyes went wide, electricity ran up and down her spine. It couldn't be…
"Let me help ya up." He offered. This was it, Amara thought. This is was destiny was. What dreams felt like when they come true. By why her, why here, and why him? She grabbed the bar on the steps and helped herself up quickly.
Connor examined her, almost amused at how flustered she was getting. He grinned at her and she felt her knees go weak. "Are ya goin' ta be alright?" He asked.
Amara stumbled around him and kept herself from making direct eye contact with him, "Yup. I'm good. Allllll gooooood." She felt like an idiot. "Happy St. Patrick's Day!" She shouted before slamming the Church door behind her.
"What the fuck…" She breathed out heavily. A Church goer cleared their throat and shot a glare towards her. Amara flashed a nervous smile, "Sorry!" She apologized quickly and took a seat in the closest pew.
"Dat was weird." Murphy handed his brother a cigarette and they lit them in unison.
"Aye. I jus' hope she's alright." Connor mumbled, "We should get goin'...don' wanna be late for work again."
Authors Note:
Welp, hope the first chapter was enjoyable. I am trying my best to write Connor and Murphy dialogue as it would sound but not go too overboard with it all. Please R&R so I know how it's going.