Chapter Four
Murphy's Law

Something evil was afoot, Jonathan had decided. It all started earlier that afternoon when Evelyn came home on time from the museum for once (though Jonathan had initially thought she was stunningly early, having forgotten the time she was supposed to get off work, as she was typically almost always late). She had a silly smile on her face, and came up behind him while he was rummaging in the liquor cabinet, throwing her arms around him in a hug. It startled Jonathan, and he almost dropped his glass of brandy; fortunately enough, however, he had been inebriated often enough that even when he got thoroughly sloshed, at least his drink did not.

"Good evening, Jonathan!" Evelyn enthused, releasing him again and skipping off toward the kitchen.

Jonathan blinked owlishly, watching his sister's rather, well, giddy movements, and he followed her along, taking a moment to down half his drink just in case. "Stunningly good mood you seem to be in, old mum," he commented.

For once, his baby sister did not seem perturbed that he called her 'old mum,' she simply went on humming to herself and swept over to the counter, setting down a bag of groceries that Jonathan hadn't noticed she had before. "Oh, yes," she finally said, a bright smile on her face. "And do you know why?"

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Jonathan muttered into his brandy, draining the remainder of the liquid and setting the glass down on the counter as if he were at a bar and demanding a refill. "Why?"

"Because," Evelyn said, removing an assortment of vegetables from the grocery sack, then drawing out a brown paper-wrapped object that Jonathan assumed was some sort of roast, "I am in love. And Rick is coming to dinner!"

Jonathan was far more bowled over by the rather nonchalant proclamation of Evelyn's 'love' than he was by the knowledge that O'Connell was coming to dinner – and since when had the American become 'Rick'? "When did this develop?" he demanded with a huff.

"Oh, I asked him this afternoon before I left work," she responded casually, moving over to the cabinets to retrieve the necessary pots and pans. It was incredibly strange to see Evelyn in such a good mood while cooking – doing so was something she typically avoided like a plague (or perhaps even more so than one, considering they'd been in quite a few), and Jonathan's own attempts at cookery often turned out better than his sister's.

"That's not what I mean," he corrected. "When did you two figure out you were . . . er, in . . . 'love'?"

It was almost painful to speak the words! Jonathan rarely realized it, but he had gotten rather attached to the way Evy took care of him over the years, and he didn't exactly want to give her up, even if the brash American who had caught her eye was a relatively nice guy. It still meant that he, Jonathan, would be left out in the cold. For the years since their parents died, he and Evelyn had been the only family each other had – and now . . . where would he be?

Evelyn finally slowed down, turning to look at him with a glowing smile on her face. Jonathan could feel his insides twisting in confusion – he wanted to be selfish and think only about how this was going to hurt him, but at the same time he couldn't help but realize how happy his sister looked when she spoke about or thought of O'Connell. Could Jonathan really deny her that happiness, simply to fulfill his own needs?

"He told me today," she said, a blush creeping into her cheeks. "And, well, Jonathan – I just don't think I've ever felt this way about anyone."

"Well," Jonathan said slowly, reluctantly, pushing at the selfishness inside himself that wanted to be heard, "I'm happy for you, baby sister."

Evelyn beamed at that, and threw her arms around him again in a hug. "Oh, Jonathan, thank you. I'm so glad you are – I was worried you wouldn't approve."

Jonathan was oddly touched by that; in recent years, it had been more himself who was self-conscious of what Evelyn thought, not the other way around – he'd always sought her approval . . . and now it made him feel good that she actually cared what he thought. Then again, he supposed he shouldn't have underestimated her in assuming she did not.

"Oh, don't be silly," Jonathan said, feeling rather self-conscious and looking rather lanky as he pulled back from her embrace and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I suppose you and O'Connell always have been meant for each other . . ."


Dinner that evening went amazingly well, considering just who it involved, though as he sat through an hour and a half of Evelyn and O'Connell sitting making eyes at each other, Jonathan was beginning to seriously rethink his charitable attitude of earlier. If he'd thought they were bad enough before, then they were ten times worse now.

Perhaps it was slightly (or, well, very) immature for Jonathan to look at things from such a perspective, there was the fact that Evy was his baby sister – and sitting about watching the previously logical young woman mooning over some American chap was simply . . . disturbing.

"All right," Jonathan said irritably, tossing down his napkin and sliding back his chair, "I'm going to go outside and get some fresh air." Away from all the mushiness, he added silently.

After a non-committal noise from Evy and no response at all forthcoming from O'Connell, a very self-pitying and grumbling Jonathan stumbled out the backdoor and out onto the patio. It was generally as unexciting as most attempts at landscaping in Egypt were, as far as Jonathan was concerned.

A few plants that managed to thrive in the heat – despite the neglect of their owners – made up what could be very loosely called a garden, along with a few trees. In the center of it all was a rectangular indentation that had once been a pond, but was now nothing more than a dried-up hole in the ground that Jonathan had spent a few nights of drunken stupor in, blearily staring up at the fish-shaped fountain that spouted nothing at all.

Ah, yes, the memories . . .


Back inside the house, Rick and Evelyn were both relieved and made nervous at being left alone together. Somehow, it was easier to 'make eyes' at each other when there was a third person present in the room. Something about Jonathan had given them a sort of comfort zone, a comfort zone that was taken away now that Evelyn's older brother had left the room.

Rick cleared his throat, and looked around. "This is, uh, a nice place. Your parents lived here?"

Evelyn nodded, too anxious herself to remember that Rick had been there before, and knew all about the fact that she had spent a lot of her childhood in the house. Instead, she got up from the table and picked up a few of the dishes, simply to have something to do.

Rick helped Evelyn to carry the dishes into the kitchen, then they both went back out into the living room and sat down. As Rick settled alongside Evelyn on the couch, he felt the slight clinking of the gift he had bought earlier, from its resting place in his pocket, and he patted a hand against it, contemplating when would be a good time to actually give it to her.

Finally, he cleared his throat and reached into his pocket, nervously letting the metal slip into the palm of his hand. "Ah, Evelyn?"

She turned to look at him fully, a curious look on her face. "Yes, Rick?"

"I was, uh, looking in the market today, and I saw this, and I thought you might like it . . ."

Pausing, Rick extracted something shiny and silver from his pocket, and lifted it up so that Evelyn could see it. It actually proved to be a piece of jewelry in the Western style, rather than the exotic Egyptian work that had become commonplace for them while living in Cairo, a bracelet with delicate links, and dangling from it a single charm in the shape of a cat, with bright eyes made out of jade. "The eyes reminded me of you," he finished.

"Oh, Rick," Evelyn said, breathless, "it's lovely." And, she realized, it was really the first time she had been given a gift from a man in a romantic sense. She'd had birthday and Christmas presents from male friends and colleagues, but never anything like this, with absolutely no occasion involved.

"Here, I'll fasten it for you . . ."


Two hours later, after Rick had left, Evelyn felt giddy as she went about doing the dishes and straightening up the kitchen. Homemaking was never her forte, but she managed to clean up without breaking anything, which was a definite plus. Every now and then, she would look down at the bracelet on her wrist, thinking about Rick's thoughtfulness. She knew that outwardly, he really didn't come off as the type to be like that, but when you really got to know him, there was a more sensitive Rick under the surface that the less sensitive one didn't want people to know about, and she felt privileged to be one of the few people to know that his sensitive side existed.

Glancing at the clock, she realized that Jonathan had been gone a while, and she went out the backdoor to check on him. He was nowhere to be seen, so she decided he must have gone out as usual. Normally, he would have told her he was going, but with Rick over, maybe he hadn't wanted to say anything to interrupt them, though that would be a rare bit of thoughtfulness on Jonathan's part. Whatever the case might have been, he wasn't there, and she turned to go back inside, but the sight of something glinting out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she went to inspect it further.

Jonathan's gold pocket watch was lying in the bed of the dried-up ornamental pond. Evelyn stepped down to retrieve it and brushed a bit of dust from the surface, curious as to how it had ended up there. The watch was one of the few things Jonathan cared about enough to hang on to over the years without pawning it away when he needed money. It had belonged to their father – and their father's father, and so on – and she knew it meant a lot to him, so why leave it out here?

He must have failed to notice that he dropped it, she decided, because it was, after all, Jonathan. Well, she might as well hang on to it for him – he would want it later, when he realized it was missing, but for now, she was going to bed. It was simply too pleasant of a day to let it be ruined now.


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Author's Note: Yes, I am still alive! It has been a really long time since an update, I realize, and this chapter is a bit short and not a lot seems to happen, but I couldn't elaborate much further without making it too long. Also, since, at the end of every chapter, I have a lot of people asking me, "Is this it?" I figured I should let everyone know – when the story ends, I'll let you know by putting a 'the end' there. Until then, assume any chapter without it will be to be continued. Also, for anyone who doesn't know, Murphy's Law is: 'anything that can go wrong will go wrong.'