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Chapter 9

Thunder

I tried to read between the lines

I tried to look in your eyes

I want a simple explanation

For what I'm feeling inside

-"Thunder" by Boys Like Girls

I woke up late the following morning; I must have been more tired than I'd thought. I headed out to the kitchen without thinking, looking for something to eat. My stomach was grumbling.

Connor was sitting on the couch, watching television again. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought he'd sat there all night. He glanced up when I came shuffling in. "Morning, lass."

I crossed my arms over my chest, remembering that I had forgotten to put on a bra. "Morning. Where's Murphy?"

"Said he had some business to tend to," Connor answered, but I knew he was only half-telling me the truth. They had this weird way about them, but I could tell when they were lying. They were both awful at it.

I opened the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of eggs. I could at least make a decent fried egg, I assured myself. "Have you eaten yet? Or taken any of your medicine?"

"No and no." He hardly looked up from the television.

I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. "Is that all you do all day? Watch television and not take your medicine?"

"Aye, pretty much." He was grinning, so I wasn't sure if he was pulling my leg or not.

I gave a frustrated sigh and turned my back on him. "How do you like your eggs?"

"Oh, you're making eggs, are you? I'll take them however you do."

"Over easy it is, then." I busied my hands but my mind was preoccupied. I wondered what Murphy was doing. Come to think of it, I'd never really asked what they did for a living. It was a Monday, so maybe Murphy was at an honest job? "What do the two of you do for a living?" I asked, focusing intently on my eggs.

I could practically feel Connor tense up even though my back was turned. "We work at a meat packing plant," he said. It sounded pretty lame, but it also sounded like the truth.

"Did you get time off for getting shot?" I pressed, scooping the first egg out of the frying pan. "And workers comp and stuff like that?"

"Aye, I did. It's an Irish plant, so they're pretty understanding," he explained. "I've got to go back in a few weeks though. Can't just keep lying around like this."

"Then you've got to start working out," I told him matter-of-factly, scooping the second egg onto a plate and putting it on the table. "Sort of like physical therapy. Otherwise your muscles and ligaments will go all tight and you'll never feel the same. Come eat."

He turned the television off and came over to the kitchen, getting a beer out of the refrigerator. I snatched it out of his hand before he had a chance to take a single step with it.

"No way," I said, brandishing the spatula at him. "Beer for breakfast is a definite no-no. In fact, beer anytime is not a good idea for you right now. Why don't you try orange juice instead? I got some yesterday."

He fixed me with a level look. "Fucking orange juice? Are you fucking serious?"

"It's either that or water. Take your pick." I turned back to the stove and cracked two more eggs for my own breakfast. He sighed but poured himself a glass of OJ and sat down to his eggs. "So the two of you work at the same place? Isn't that a little odd?"

"I suppose," he shrugged. "We do a lot of things together. We were even fucking born together." He allowed himself a laugh.

"Wait." I settled down with a glass of water and my own eggs. "The two of you are twins?"

He grinned. "Aye. Nobody knows who's older but our Ma. And she won't tell us. Thinks it's some big fucking joke or something."

"Interesting," I mused, taking a bite of egg. It was delicious, not at all like the cardboard pancakes they served in the hospital cafeteria. "For some reason I thought you were older."

"I get that a lot," he agreed. "I feel older most of the time." He finished his eggs and sat back in his chair. "So what are you going to do today, Mimi?"

I chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Keep cleaning, I guess. I only really got through the bathroom yesterday."

"You're going to keep up this housekeeping thing then, eh?"

"You bet I am. It's nice of you two to invite me to stay here, but I can't live in that kind of filth. And," I added, giving him a stern look. "I intend to keep playing nurse. Which means you've got to take your medicine now."

He made a disgusted face. "It always makes me so tired."

"Because your body needs lots of rest." I carried both our plates over to the sink and let warm water run over them while I got his orange prescription bottles and took out the correct amount of pills. I stood over him, arms crossed, until he took them. "Good. Now you can watch TV or whatever the hell you do. But you better believe that we're doing some serious working out after lunch."

He groaned but dragged himself back over to the sofa. He turned the television back on, but had fallen asleep before I'd gotten the dishes cleaned. That medicine was pretty powerful.

After I had put the dishes away in the cabinet, I retreated to my room to get dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. And definitely a bra. I'd have to remember not to go braless anymore. Even if it didn't make them uncomfortable, it certainly made me so.

I started in on the kitchen first, humming to myself. I'd managed to clean the counters the night before, but the rest of the kitchen was in dire need of a good scrub-down. I cleaned out the cabinets and the refrigerator, the stove and the sink. Then I moved to the living room, dusting and wiping things down with furniture polish. I was sweeping the floors when Connor woke up again.

Since I'd done so much cleaning, I made the two of us sandwiches and settled onto the sofa to watch TV with him, laughing at his running commentary. After we'd eaten and I'd cleaned our dishes, I made him work out with me. I didn't like working out, but I knew he needed it. He complained and bitched the entire time, but at least he did the work. I knew he'd thank me. One day.

My first week living with the Macmanus brothers set us into something of a pattern. Murphy would be gone for strange hours during the day, always claiming to be at work even if I didn't really believe him. After I'd gotten the apartment to sparkle, Connor started giving me money, an allowance of sorts. He said I could spend it whatever way I wanted.

First I bought some plaster from the home improvement store a couple bus stops away. I wasn't great with plaster, but Jamie had worked as a receptionist for a construction company and one picks up tips. I fixed the crumbling plaster in both my bedroom and the living room. Connor watched me do this with a smile, though he never said anything.

Eventually Connor started leaving with Murphy. They were often gone all day and sometimes all night, though they'd always say they were just gone to work. The first day I was home by myself I bought some paint, a dark beige. I covered the sagging sofa and the television set and the scuffed coffee table with a sheet and set about painting. I finished the entire living room in one day and, even though my arms ached and I had ruined my favorite t-shirt, I was proud. I was determined to stay up until they got home to see what they'd say. I hadn't technically asked permission to paint their apartment.

I must have fallen asleep on the sofa, because I half woke up when they came through the door. It was probably two o'clock or later. I wasn't used to staying up so late. They brought a strange smell with them when they came in, like rusty iron almost. I didn't like it.

"What the fuck is all this?" Murphy wondered aloud, inhaling the smell of fresh paint and looking around at the walls. "Did she paint the entire fucking room while we were gone?"

"Aye, looks like it." It sounded like Connor was grinning. "Looks damn good, too. Fuck, she's going to be sore tomorrow."

"And she just fell asleep here," Murphy muttered. It might have just been my imagination, but I thought I detected a touch of fondness in his voice. I hoped so. I'd been living with them for nearly two weeks and I still wasn't entirely sure where I stood with them. They were still keeping so many secrets; I knew they didn't completely trust me. I felt his arms under me and that iron smell suddenly became quite strong. I did my best to keep still.

I heard his heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor as he carried me down the narrow hallway, which I had also painted beige. He nudged open the door to my room with his foot and settled me in my bed, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders like a big brother. I hoped he didn't just see me as a little sister.

He paused in the doorway for a moment, and it was all I could do to keep still. Then he murmured, "Goodnight, Mimi," and pulled the door closed.

Another chapter down! This one was more of a transition chapter, but trust me, the action is definitely about to start picking up! Thank you for reading and please review!