My dad wasn't exactly thrilled when he found out how I had spent my Friday night in a bar with the MacManus twins. They had a reputation in Southie as notorious trouble makers. I spent my first Saturday morning hangover listening to him rant about how he was so disappointed and how I should focus on my classes and prepare for Columbia in the fall.
It had been a week and I was headed to Tracy's house to stay the night. I had closed the door to my apartment building and turned to leave when I almost tripped on someone sitting on my stoop.
"Christ, girl. Ye ever look where yer goin'?" Murphy muttered, bouncing up and butting out his cigarette on the stair rail.
"I'm sorry. I'm not accustomed to being stalked. Perhaps you would be so kind as to teach me the proper protocol."
"I'd hardly call this stalkin'. I just wanted ta see ye." He plunged his hands in his pockets and raised his eyebrows at me.
"I haven't heard from you all week." I muttered.
"Ya, well, I kind of did get into a wee bit o'trouble with yer da. Told me ta let ye finish yer classes or else." He raised his eyebrows and chuckled.
"I hardly believe that's all he said."
"Well, that's more or less what I got from the conversation. I figured it bein' Friday an all, class was over." I laughed as he ran his tongue over his lip. "Would ye like ta go with me somewhere?"
"I kind of have plans. Plus, I'm not exactly supposed to be seeing you."
"Isn't that what makes it excitin'?" He mused.
"I have somewhere I need to be. Someone's waiting for me."
"Ah. I see. Well, tomorrow then? I work the early shift so I kin meet ye 'ere before yer da gets off."
"Are you ever going to give up?" I secretly hoped he would say no. I had to admit, since our kiss the other night, I had been having a hard time thinking of anything else. It didn't exactly help my testing abilities.
"'Onestly? Not anytime soon."
"Then I guess I have to say yes." I smiled.
"Alright, then. I'll come fer ye around this time."
"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, then." I said, finally setting down the stairs.
Murphy was close behind. He grabbed my shoulder, spinning me towards him before planting a gentle kiss on my lips. "Can't wait." He muttered, before sauntering away.
I tried to dress appropriately. Boston winters were the worst when it came to balancing between femininity and being warm. I didn't know the first thing about dating. That's what this was, right? A date.
My Catholic school was so strict, boys and girls were barely even allowed to look at each other without the nuns threatening that you would get pregnant and die.
I was anxious to say the least. I had been pacing back and forth by the window, watching the street, waiting until I saw that familiar figure with the very unique walk approaching my building.
I raced down the stairs and to the front door where he was waiting in the lobby, leaning casually against the wall. "I fergot, I didn't know which apartment number was yers." He admitted, pushing himself up and taking a step towards me. "Are ye ready?" He asked, extending his hand towards mine.
"Yeah…" I lied.
He took me to this small Italian place a few blocks away. On the walk he explained that it was one of the first places he and Connor had tried when they moved here from Ireland. As he had said, it wasn't anything fancy, but he said the food more than made up for it.
"Ye do like Italian, right?"
"Sure." I said as he held the door open for me. The door closed and he placed his hand on my back, steering me to a booth in the very corner.
A young girl came over and smiled at Murphy, saying it had been a while and asking where his brother was in flawless Italian and Murphy replied in the same tongue. I stared at them in awe as I tried to keep up with the dialogue, being only proficient in the romance languages. "They are natives here. It's authentic." Murphy explained to me as she went to fetch our drinks. "Ye mind if I order fer ye? Promise ye'll love it." He smiled.
I couldn't say no. I nodded my compliance. "You speak Italian?"
"I know a few phrases."
I realized he was being modest when he continued his conversation as the waitress brought our drinks and he placed our orders for dinner.
"So… you and your brother were born in Ireland?" I didn't know what else to say.
"Aye. Born an' raised."
"What brought you here?"
"The money, honestly. Our ma, she busted 'er arse tryin' ta raise us by 'erself. When we go old enough, we figur'd it was only right ta return the favor. Been sendin' 'er money, tryin' ta 'elp out."
"What about your dad?" I asked, cautiously.
"Left 'fore we could walk." He said simply, looking down at the edge of the table.
"I'm sorry." I whispered. "That's really nice about your ma, though. You trying to take care of her, I mean."
He just smiled up at me. "It must be nice 'avin' McGerkin as a da."
"He's the best." I smiled. "Just protective."
"As he should be. I wouldn't let my beautiful daughter around the likes o' me either."
"I'm out to dinner with a friend." I blushed.
"Oy, lass. As far as I'm concerned, we're way past friend."
"Oh, really?" I mused.
"I've been thinkin' about ye since I saw ye. I don't exactly think that's friendly behavior."
"You speak a lot of languages?" I changed the subject.
"Aye. Ma insisted on it. Know Irish, o' course. Some French, Italian, Spanish, little Russian… Some German, too."
"What are you doing working for my dad?" I laughed, beyond impressed. From our night in the bar together the other night, I really had no idea how talented he really was. And absolutely oblivious to how amazing he was. He either didn't care that every girl who walked by turned to gawk at him or how the waitress panted as she listened to him croon in a foreign language with the most flawless accent, or he really was completely clueless. I, for one, had noticed from the second we walked out of my apartment building as the women all stared daggers at me, no doubt wondering how little ole, innocent Rebecca McGerkin from Southie had landed herself a MacManus.
The waitress came back and presented our meal. Two plates spilling with pasta. "Grazie." I muttered. "Sembra delizioso." I offered. It wasn't much compared to her conversation with Murphy, but it was at least accurate.
"Aye, ye know a thing 'er two, cara mia?"
I blushed crimson, again. I could feel my cheeks burn. "I learned some stuff, too. Dad taught me Irish, of course. I took Italian, French, and a little Spanish, thanks to the nuns."
"Are ye plannin' a trip, then?"
"I've been thinking about studying abroad when I go to school. During the summer, I guess."
"Aimeriez-vous si je parlais Français pour vous?" He said.
"Je pense que ce serait seulement me faire rougir." I said honestly. This is delicious." I changed the subject.
"Si vous êtes." He added. "Ye shouldn't be so embarrassed, lass. I'm only bein' 'onest."
"I'm not used to the attention." I muttered, focusing more on my food.
"An' why not? Yer fuckin' gorgeous, girl. Don't ye ever ferget that. I've always been partial ta brunettes." He reached over and brushed my hair behind my ears. I glanced up at him, bashfully. "An' those eyes. Shamrocks would be jealous o' that color green."
His hand still hovered beside my face, I glanced at the word, 'Aequitas', in ink across his forefinger. "What's 'justice' for?" I asked, grabbing his hand and running my finger over the ink.
"Oy, just somethin' Connor and I thought up. Our beliefs, I guess."
"You always do everything together?"
"We're twins, it kind of comes with the territory."
We talked about lots of stuff over dinner, like how my parents met in Ireland. They were both from Cork, care of County Clark and got married in their big, lavish ceremony in a cathedral there. They moved here when I was conceived, thinking it would be better money to raise a child on. My mom died last year, just before the twins got jobs at the plant. I explained how she was hit by a car that jumped a curb on the way to the grocers.
Murphy told me that he and Connor hailed from County Kerry, right next to County Clark. I asked about what it was like growing up with a twin and he admitted they didn't know who was eldest, their mother just never told them. He admitted they got into a lot of trouble when they were young, and tended to get violent when they drank.
It got dark before we knew it. "We should go. We have church in the morning." I sighed.
"Yer right, I guess. I 'ave a lot o' repentin' ta do."
The walk home was pleasant. We held hands and Murphy told me stories from his child hood. He also explained that he didn't live far from my building once we got to my stoop.
"I'd like ta see ye again."
"I'd like that, too."
"Good. I can 'ardly wait." He smirked, picking up my chin and bringing my lips to his.
Neither could I.
Translations:
Grazie. Sembra delizioso – Thank you. It looks delicious. (Italian)
Cara Mia – My love (Italian)
Aimeriez-vous si je parlais Français pour vous – Would you like it if I spoke French to you (French)
Je pense que ce serait seulement me faire rougir – I think it would make me blush (French)
Si vous êtes – You already are (French)