Branna(22)
“I was putting the dishes away.”
“Yeah, right,” my sister groaned. “Is there a reason you’re in ‘ere?”
“I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“What’s your perfect morning?” Dominic asked.
“No one talkin’ to me,” Bronagh replied.
“I knew you’d say that.”
“Babe, I love you with me entire heart, but please, fuck off.”
“Language,” he teased. “Your sister is on the phone.”
“Give it ‘ere then,” she grumbled.
I heard Dominic’s chuckling then a loud, pained groan.
“You should have raised me better,” Bronagh whined. “You should have preached how evil alcohol really is.”
I smiled. “Would you have believed me?”
Silence.
“Probably not.” My sister sighed. “Anyway, good mornin’.”
“Mornin’, sister dearest.”
More groaning.
“I hate meself with every fibre in me body,” she said softly. “I’ve never felt so ill in me entire life.”
“If it makes you feel better, you gave me, Keela and the lads a right laugh.”
“It doesn’t make me feel better; it makes me feel worse.”
I laughed. “Sorry.”
“Are you really?”
“No.” I cackled.
Bronagh began to laugh but quickly groaned in pain.
“Dominic,” she called. “Can you get me a painkiller?”
“Two pills and a glass of water are already on your nightstand.”
“Oh,” Bronagh replied. “I love you.”
“I know,” came his response.
“Aw,” I cooed. “How sweet.”
“Shut up,” she grumbled. “These tablets better take me headache away before I cry me eyes out.”
I waited until she took her painkillers and rehydrated herself.
She smacked her lips together and said, “That water was the nicest thing I’ve ever swallowed.”
Don’t let Dominic hear you say that.
I shook my head. “I’m sure it was.”
“I’ve either had the worst nightmare ever, or they’re flashbacks from last night. I’m seriously prayin’ for the former.”
“Fire some of them at me, and I’ll let you know.”
“Karaoke with Lana.”
“Flashback.”
“Almost getting kicked out of the pub for strippin’.”
“Flashback.”
“Dancing on the stage.”
“Flashback.”
“Kissin’ Lana.”
“Nightmare... I think.”
“Oh, my God.” Bronagh groaned.
I chuckled.
“I don’t know why I’ve done this to meself.”
“I do. You were sad over Georgie possibly self-weanin’.”
“She’s definitely weanin’,” Bronagh mumbled. “She drank a full eight-ounce bottle last night and slept through the night for the first time ever. She had another bottle this morning and some pureed breakfast, Dominic said.” My sister sighed. “I held ‘er on me chest and she didn’t even hint for me boob. I still can’t believe it.”
“I know, kid, but it’ll get easier for you.”
“I hope so because I feel pretty damn useless right about now.”
“You still have to do everythin’ you’ve been doin’ for her but just usin’ a bottle and a spoon now.”
“I guess,” Bronagh mumbled.
“Want to hear somethin’ shitty about my day?” I offered.
“Of course,” came my sister’s immediate response.
I chuckled. “Guess who discovered a billion purple stretch marks on ‘er body?”
My sister winced. “It’s that bad?”
“It’s like a roadmap to hell, and I’m only in me second trimester.”
Bronagh laughed. “You’re probably bein’ dramatic.”
“No, Bee, seriously, they’re everywhere.”
“Well, they’ll fade eventually, if it’s any consolation?”
“It is,” I said. “Ten minutes ago I’d have told you to shove that consolation up your arse, but me fabulous husband made me feel beautiful —”
“I am possibly dyin’ of a hangover, so the last thing I need to think of is me brother-in-law doin’ the nasty to me big sister.”
I burst into laughter. “Chill, we didn’t get that far. I had to wee, and the mood was killed.”
“The joys of pregnancy.” My sister snorted.
I smiled. “I’ll let you go so you can die in peace.”
“Wait,” she said quickly. “Are you and Ry at the cabin yet?”