Chapter 7

"Ya got some explaining ta do."

We had strolled through the front door of a bar called McGinty's, a place I had only been to one other time only because I was in dire need of a drink after the first blind date I had been on literally went down in flames. He thought it'd be a good idea to take me camping, which turned out to not be camping at all but instead a burn barrel full of wood and a canister of gasoline in a park. The idiot burned his eyebrows clean off when he decided it'd be wise to dump more gas on the fire after it started dying down and the wind began to pick up.

"Da fuck's he on about, explainin' 'bout what?" Murphy questioned as he slid onto a stool at the bar.

"He's just mad that I called you man whores."

"Fuckin' liar, she said dat da lasses we bring home are sloppy drunks who couldn't get enough Irish da night before and when dey wake up in da morning eit'er realize we're just a bad mistake or want ta stick around."

"I also said it was probably the same for you the following morning; that she's just a mistake and another notch in your bedpost, that you wish she wouldn't hang around the morning after because you've got to go to confession like good little Catholic school boys," I said taking a stool one down from where Murphy was sitting.

"She's not far off da mark Connor if ya really t'ink about it. Ma wouldn't be happy with da girls we've brought home as of late dat's fer sure."

"So how were ya able ta figure all dat out in just a glimpse?" Connor asked, taking the seat between his brother and me.

"Just the way you said what you said in my room; it doesn't leave a lot to the imagination and it gives the impression that you fancy yourself to be a ladies' man. Murphy, you've got that dark, brooding look to you that has probably drawn in quite a few women over the years and I'm guessing you've used that to your advantage."

"And dat bit about being Catholic? How'd ya figure dat?"

"I can see your rosary beads through your shirts." I said simply with a shrug.

For a Saturday night it was pretty busy for a first time ladies night, so much so that the poor bartender failed to acknowledge our presence until much later when crowd began to clear out. That's not to say that we weren't served or helped in any way, one of the servers had us covered as the elderly man behind the bar shuffled along doing his best to fill orders as quickly as he could in between shouts of 'fuck' and 'ass.'

"S-s-s-sorry boys, if I'd have known it'd be dis b-b-busy I'd have called in more h-h-help. Dis one's on d-d-da house." The old bartender stammered, setting up three shot glasses and pouring a shot of whiskey into each.

"Da lass can't have any she's sticking ta water tonight." Murphy advised, picking up his shot before the other two glasses were filled.

"Ya don't drink, lass?"

"She got mugged last night and we took her to da hospital; they've got her on some pretty good shit while she's healing." Connor piped in, picking up his glass and sliding mine over to his brother.

"S-s-s-someone sh-sh-should do somet'ing about dat," the bartender's stutter became harsher as his anger came to a peak.

"Doc, don't be getting yerself upset, she's alive and dat's all anyone can ask for at da moment." Murphy started, trying to calm the old man down as he started turning red in the face.

Soon after, the bartender turned his attention back to one of his servers that approached the bar a few stools down. I watched as she set her tray down and began rattling off a list of drinks, some were longnecks, some were shots, one or two were mixed drinks. Given the length of the order I knew it'd be awhile before he was able to hold a conversation with either Connor or Murphy. Just as I was turning my attention back to them, they were starting a private conversation amongst themselves in what sounded like Italian.

While they were enveloped in whatever it was they were talking about, I took the opportunity slip off my stool and go in search of the bathroom which I found located near the back of the bar with the words "mná" and "fir" written on the doors in a surprisingly beautiful script. Having learned a bit of Irish while I was still working on my undergrad degree I quickly remembered which one was the women's room and which was the men's. Although, I couldn't help but wonder if there was some twisted sense of humor behind it to confuse a drunk who didn't know the difference.

A few minutes later I emerged from the bathroom with clean hands and spotted my stool having been taken by some blonde hanging on Connor and laughing like she was an old friend; a brunette of equal drunkenness and beauty sat next to Murphy trying to engage him in conversation though he seemed to be more interested in the cigarette between his fingers. From the windows I could see the sun beginning to set and decided to leave for the night knowing that I still had a lot of homework left to finish before Monday.

I slipped through the front door with ease as an eruption of laughter filled the room and exited through the second set of doors onto the street. Considering the time of day, it was eerily quiet and going against my better judgment I turned to my left and started heading for home. As the light faded away over the horizon I took some time to reflect on my current situation. Perhaps moving to Boston in pursuit of a dream had been a mistake and I should have been more patient with my job search. I mean, something much closer to home would've opened up eventually, right? Then again, being 27 means taking chances and setting out on your own. There was no pressure from my parents to move out; they actually said I could stay as long as I needed as long as I was working. They didn't care what I did with the money I saved and encouraged me to take what I saved and buy a house with it.

Soon enough the street lights began switching on and I could hear my mom's voice yelling at me to get my ass inside. Growing up where I did meant that nothing good ever happened after dark and if you want to live to see tomorrow, you get inside before the street lights come on. Unfortunately, living in Boston meant the same thing. I was just a few steps away from home when gunshots rang out and blood curdling screams filled the cool October air. Not wanting to get involved, I rushed inside to be met with the one person I didn't want to see again until Monday.

"You must be feeling better if you have the energy to sneak out the back and come back through the front. If you had a hot date with one of those guys you could've just told me."

"Wouldn't exactly call it a hot date if I'm coming home alone. What are you still doing here? Don't you have plans?"

"The original plan was a double date tonight but you got yourself stabbed last night and instead of telling me the truth, you sneak out with your new fuck toys and blow me off. As for what I'm still doing here, well, did you not just hear those shots go off? Why the hell would you even move to this neighborhood? Do you think that little of yourself that you feel like you have to live in a shithole? Do we not pay you enough that you can't afford something more livable?"

"You know what Charlie? I don't owe you any fucking explanation for my decisions but since inquiring minds want to know why don't you park your ass on that step for a few minutes before I kick you out." And he did exactly that, parked his ass on the bottom step, holding his hands out like he was all ears. "I moved here because it was cheap, I get paid enough but I like being able to have some money left so I can help pay for my mom's surgery. I live in this shithole not because I think that little of myself but because I like the neighborhood; I like my neighbors. And before you even ask, my mom is having surgery Tuesday to have her gall bladder removed. It's not an uncommon surgery for people to have but still, she has a hard time waking up from anesthesia and I worry about any potential complications that may come up either during or after surgery. Now, take your ass out of my building and go home. I don't want to see you again until Monday. And while we're butting heads over my life's choices, let's just keep this relationship at a professional level from now on. You and Ryan both keep out of my love life and don't call me unless its work related."

Before he could open his mouth to utter a word, the front door of the building slammed open hitting the brick wall behind it, causing a loud bang that even had me startled. Turing around, I found my upstairs neighbors clinging to each other as they staggered up the stairs. I really didn't think either of them could end up that drunk in a matter of minutes. Usually ladies night means women end up holding on to each other as they walk around like baby giraffes in high heels.

"Why'd ya leave? If ya wanted ta go home we'd have walked ya back."

"You looked like you were having too good of a time with your new friends. Besides, I needed to do a little thinking and I like doing that quietly."

"Ya should've still told us, we'd have happily obliged. Da two of 'em were too touchy, feely fer me. I know, sounds strange coming from da likes of me but ya gotta draw da line somewhere, right?" Connor rattled on as he continued to hold the door open with one hand and keep his brother upright with the other.

"So how'd you wind up so hammered so quick? They want to go toe to toe with a pair of Irish men?"

"Aye, one t'ought she could take me and ordered a whole bottle of whiskey." Murphy started, laughing loudly.

"She said her great-grandparents were from Clew Bay – Westport I t'ink." Connor added, hoisting his brother up a bit when he started to slide.

"So because she has some Irish in her she thought she could take on a full-blooded Irishman surrounded by all his friends who, undoubtedly, cheered you on as you slammed back one shot after another?"

"Pretty much. Poor lass ended up on da floor after da fourth shot and Doc called her a cab. Da fuck's he still doing here?"

"I don't know but he was just leaving, weren't you Charlie?"

"Yeah, see you Monday unless I wind up in a body bag later tonight."

Charlie made sure his shoulder connected with mine as he got up from the bottom stair and he also made sure to crash between the twins, not even bothering to apologize when the back of Connor's head bounced off the door or when Murphy fell over.

"What's up his fucking arse?"

"Usually it's his boyfriend's dick but that's been replaced by a stick tonight. Want to take a walk upstairs and I'll tell you what happened?"

They very quickly forgot their injuries as they burst into laughter at my unfiltered comment. What can I say? Sometimes the filter goes out the window, especially when I'm in a bad mood. Despite the shooting pains in my shoulder I walked back towards the door and helped Connor get his brother back to his feet. Once Murphy was securely sandwiched between his brother and I the three of us began climbing the stairs up to the fifth floor.

"Just before you guys came back Charlie started accusing me of intentionally getting hurt last night to avoid going on the double date, he also got it in his head that the three of us have been screwing around even though we just met last night. He thinks that I live here because I don't think highly of myself. I told him that from now we should keep our relationship at a professional level and that he needs to stay out of my love life and only call me if its work related."

"Ya got da right idea, from here on out it needs ta remain professional between ya. Whatever da reasons are dat ya moved here is on you, ya don't have ta explain anyt'ing ta anyone." Connor offered as Murphy began an ear screeching attempt at singing.

"Does he always do this when he's drunk?" I chuckled as he tried to loosen out of our grip and climb the stairs on his own.

"Murph! Ya come crashing down da stairs it better not be on da lass! She doesn't need a broken neck on account of you!"

"As I went home on a Saturday night, as drunk as drunk could beeeee!"

Murphy's arms and legs were flailing and swinging every which way as he tried to climb the stairs on his own; a few times he began falling backwards, threatening to come crashing down the stairs until Connor pushed him on to the landing and he was able to use the wall as a brace to steady himself.

Under normal circumstances a climb to the third floor to my apartment would've taken less than two minutes but the assent to the fifth took close to ten thanks to Murphy. Connor leaned his brother against the door jamb as he tried to fish his keys from his pocket but groaned in frustration as he watched him from the corner of his eye slide down the wall and to the floor.

"It's dis one, ya mind unlocking it for me while I try ta get dis idiot off da ground?"

I chuckled a bit as I took the keys from Connor's hand and broke out into a full laugh as Murphy tried his best to resist his brother's attempt at help. I'm not sure how it happened but somehow, Connor wound up on the ground with Murphy sitting on his back hollering about not needing help "and even if I did, I wouldn't want ta see yer ugly mug staring back at me."

"Be nice to your brother and get off his back."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll whoop your ass."

"Don't be tempting me with a good time lass." Murphy teased, wiggling his brows but eventually crawling off his brother's back and across the floor to where I was standing, using my legs to pull himself to his feet.

"Get your butt inside and go to bed, I've got to get home and finish my homework."

"So serious! Ya need ta lighten up a bit, ya know." Murphy remarked, grabbing my bottom jaw and shaking my head a bit from side to side.

Connor pushed himself up from the ground, falling over a bit as he tried to regain his balance, and pushed his brother inside their flat. A muffled 'ow' erupted from his brother as he landed on the floor but Connor couldn't be bothered with it at that moment.

"Drunken fuck, can't fucking take ya anywhere without ya saying da wrong shit!"

"It's fine, not the first time I've been put in a situation like this, won't be the last now that I know who's living upstairs." Peering through the open door I couldn't help but laugh as I watched Murphy struggling to get his jeans off; he was wobbling every which way until he fell backwards onto a mattress and finally freed his legs from the denim.

"Every fuckin' week! Murph! Ya better not piss yerself, I'm not dragging ya into da shower like last time!" Connor did a bit more swearing in a variety of languages before he took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "My idiot brother didn't hurt ya did he?"

"Charlie did most of the damage on his way out, worse case I'll just take some pain meds and go to bed a little early tonight. I'm sure you two have plans tomorrow morning but if you're not too busy, how about I buy you guys breakfast at this little diner down the street? Just a little thank you for helping me last night and maybe to also help with the hangovers a bit."

"Say yes! I want free food!"

"Shut it ya fuckin' brat! Sorry 'bout him, he can be a real pain in da arse sometimes. We'll t'ink about it and let ya know in da morning. If it's a yes, it'll have ta be after church but before noon; we've gotta meet a friend ta go over some stuff."

"Just let me know either way. I know you're gonna have your hands full tonight with that one in there but try to have a good night."

I offered Connor a small half-smile then walked around him to get back to the stairwell. It may have been that my mind was playing tricks on me but I could've sworn I heard Murphy hollering about the Saints of South Boston followed by another chastising remark from Connor.

I shook my head again as I made my way back to my apartment on the third floor. While placing the key into the lock I couldn't stop the thoughts from entering my mind – what if moving here turned out to not be a mistake afterall? What if I was supposed to be here, in this building, for a reason? Why does Murphy have to look so much like him?