Edited by: Sixty-nine
My brother and I never had gotten along, so when he and his wife of ten years argued, as they often did, there was no doubt as to who had my sympathies. Still, I hadn't expected her to show up at my doorstep that night.
"He's locked me out of the house this time," my red headed sister in-law started in even before she stepped inside the door. "That bastard locked me out of my own house! It's too much this time, even for him!"
"Calm down, Kathleen," I said, trying to soothe her. Still, I knew it was a lost cause. When Kat got her panties in a bunch, it was best not to be standing dead ahead.
"Calm down? Calm down you tell me, Michael O'Shawnessy? You who've not even talked to the man in over five years when you only live four blocks down? I come here for sympathy and solace and you have the flamin' nerve to tell me to calm down?" she railed, her righteous wrath falling now on poor ol' Mick!
"Don't get your dander up with me, Kathleen O'MacNamara," I gave her right back, but gentle-like. "I'm the one that told you not to marry him in the first place. I'm the one that's always been on your side - and still am, I might add. And besides that, young lady, it wasn't so long ago your mother let me cut a switch and tan your backside good for talking back to her elders. I'll do it again tonight if you don't mind!" I argued.
Kathleen's green eyes burned red until slowly, the glee behind her anger broke through and she was laughing fit to be tied. "Play hell you will, old man," she laughed, and laughed so gaily that soon I was joining her. "I'd like to see you try to switch my backside now, you old randy goat. It'd give me good cause for turnabout."
I grinned roguishly at Kat, the thought a very tempting one. It'd almost be worth a switching to wrestle her one way or the other. Kat was a fine woman with fine, round hips and a swelling bosom to make any woman proud. Her long, red hair unfurled behind her in waves, like a gentle breeze through standing barley. She had fine legs too, whenever she cared to bare them, which wasn't often enough.
Yes, Kat was a fine woman and a proud one as well. It took her four weeks to find out she'd made the mistake of a lifetime by marrying my brother. Being a good, catholic girl, she had gotten pregnant by that time. She lost that baby and the one that tried to follow. After that, despite the teachings of the church, Kathleen O'Shawnessy never conceived again. How she accomplished that was a constant source of curiosity to me, but some things a brother in-law isn't supposed to know.
Except that Kat and I weren't just in-laws. Despite our age differences, we were friends from the start. We grew up nearby, her ten years my junior. I had always adored the spunky, neighborhood tomboy. I'd always thought she was levelheaded too until I came back from several years away on business to find the two of them engaged.
My brother Shawn had forbade her to tell me while I was away. He knew I'd try to spoil it for him and save it for her. Despite my best efforts, they were wed two months later. As I said, Kat was proud. Back then, she was also in love.
"So, what are you going to do?" I asked her, nodding towards a chair and pulling out a cold bottle of Irish Mist from the fridge. I knew it was one of Kat's favorite drinks and it certainly was one of mine.
I poured us both half glasses and Kat and I looked over the table at the other. "I don't know, Mick," she said softly, the steam finally billowing out of her sails as she sipped the Mist. "I'm too tired right now. A girl of twenty-eight shouldn't be this tired. I feel like I'm wasting away."
"He's sucked the life out of you, just like he sucked the life out of your womb," I said bitterly without thinking.
Then, seeing how much my words had hurt her, I reached out and took her soft hand in mine. "I'm sorry, Kat. That was damn selfish of me. You know how I feel about you, though. I hate to see what you've gone through all these years, especially knowing that you deserved so much better."
She was quiet for the longest time. We both were. She sipped her Mist and I sipped mine. There wasn't much else that could be said. The only redeeming thing about the time was that Kat let me hold her hand throughout.
I twirled the ring on her finger, the symbol of my brother's pledge. I'd never worn a band myself. I had said I'd just never found the right girl, but that wasn't altogether true. The problem had been, when she had come of age, she had already been betrothed to someone else.
"If you've nowhere else to go tonight, you're welcome to stay here," I told her, stating the obvious. Kat's folks had died four years back, another heartache in her young life. She had a sister but she'd married too and moved off to Springfield to the south.
"I don't know, Michael," Kat said, suddenly very serious and formal. "It just wouldn't be right to stay here alone with you tonight."
"Damn what's right, Kat," I said, more bitterly than I had intended. "It's 'right' that's kept you in a loveless marriage all these years. How many more years of happiness will you sacrifice to what other people think is right?"
Kat grew silent and a bit despondent again, I think. Once more, I cursed my loose tongue. Where Kat was concerned, it seemed I had no self control whatsoever. It was the bane of my life that Kat had more than enough self control for the both of us.
"I'm sorry, Kat…again," I told my sister in-law. "We've had this talk for ten years now and I keep telling myself we won't have it again but we do. You know my mind. I'll try not to bring it up again."
She sighed, then seemed a bit relieved, no doubt having troubles with me with the last thing that Kat needed tonight.
Always the practical girl, she asked, "If I were to stay, where would I sleep."
"In my bed, of course," I said without thinking, trying to remember what business had been so all-fired important eleven years ago while I was away. When I noticed her shocked look, I rolled my eyes and added, "I'll be sleeping on the couch, of course. Just because I tried to get you in my bed eight years ago doesn't mean every invitation after that means the same."
It was after Kat had lost the second child that I tried to bed her. I knew how hard-headed she could be, knew that once she set her mind on not going through losing one again with Shawn, she'd set it for good. I also knew, though, that Kat had always dreamed on having a whole house full of babies.
So, in my arrogance, I'd went and been tested for the birth defect that we'd been told had caused those two blessed ones to leave her womb. Knowing I was cleared, I'd presented her with the answer to her problems. "You can still have O'Shawnessy's," I'd told her. "Shawn would never have to know. They'll even somewhat look like him, though a damn sight more handsome and with a better disposition." It seemed the logical choice to me. Unfortunately, Kathleen was a good girl, always committed to doing the right.
It had ended badly, quite naturally. Kat had not even talked with me for almost a year after. All I had done was pour salt in her wounds. Knowing I'd done that had been the hardest thing for me to bear that year.
But after that we'd patched it up (not quickly because Kat was as stubborn as she was proud). Still, the O'Shawnessy's are known to be a bit hard-headed ourselves. I stuck with it, until Kat and I were friends once more.
