36
36
Brotherly Love
“Y e need to fix it.”
“Have ye listened to a fuckin’ word I’ve said,” Alex snapped exasperated.
Alex and Lachlan sat at Alex’s wooden kitchen table with a half-drunk bottle of scotch between them as they argued.
“Aye, ye dumb arse.” Lachlan thumped his hand on the table. “Go grovel and beg fer that woman’s forgiveness. Then we can all get on a plane back to Scotland and make it home in time fer New Year’s fuckin’ Eve.”
Alex couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Of all people, his brother knew better than anyone the hell he’d been through. How could he be so flippant about this? Did he not understand the lass had exploded his world, and he had no idea how to put it back together?
“I cannae. My life was good. No, it was bloody near perfect,” he amended, “before she came along, and now everything feels all off-kilter,” he argued, feeling foul as he gulped back the contents of his glass.
“Jesus Mother of Christ. Yer a complete fuckin’ numpty! I hauled my arse across the giant fuckin' pond because I huv never known ye to be so oot of yer mind.”
Alex gave his brother a black look, sitting back in his chair. “I didnae ask ye to come, did I?”
“Naw, but evidently, ye need somebody to talk some fuckin’ sense inta ya. Ye miserable sod.”
Alex sat pensively, still a little surprised at his brother’s appearance. On Christmas morning, Lachlan’s wife, Violet, had apparently surprised Lachlan with a ticket to come to Canada. His sister-in-law knew that Alex was supposed to be in Scotland over Christmas, and when his plans cancelled, according to Lachlan, she'd insisted that it was “high time” the brothers saw each other. Whatever that meant .
Lachlan also admitted that they were both worried about Alex, which annoyed him immensely. He did not want anyone worrying over him. He was just fine, damn it. And currently, his brother was doing very little to help his mood anyway.
“Ye need me to spell it out fer ye?” Lachlan rubbed his forehead looking desperate for some sleep.
“No’ really,” Alex snapped.
Lachlan groaned, laying his head down on the wooden kitchen table in resignation.
“Listen, I was shocked as shite to get a call from ye this afternoon to come get ye at the airport. Then ye sit at my table, drink my whisky, and try and make it sound like I’m going daft. I’m not." Alex said pointedly.
Lachlan lifted his head and peered at his brother through jet-lagged eyes across the table. “Ye huvnae come up fer air talking about this Quinn West lassie since ye picked me up, so dinnae tell me that I'm the one makin' ye sound daft. Ye're doin’ that well enough yerself. And perhaps, I'll keep the eighteen-year-old quarter cask bottle of Cailleach in my case, fer myself. To hell with ye.”
“In yer case? Now? And yer only just mentioning it? Christ, mon.” Alex ignored everything Lachlan said except about the fine whisky.
Lachlan stared at his brother like he was their crazy uncle Rory, who always spouted bizarre conspiracy theories at Christmas dinner.
“If ye haud yer weesht fer a minute and listen, I may go get it.”
“By all means, say wha’ ye huv to say, then let's drink the good stuff. ’Tis Christmas after all,” Alex quipped lightly.
“I cannae believe yer so bloody dense,” Lachlan said. “This cold Canadian air must be numbing yer brain cells.”
Alex shot him a scowl. “Fuck off.”
Lachlan’s lips tipped into a lopsided grin, and he leaned in over the table. “Let me let ye in on a wee secret.”
Alex arched a dark brow as he sat back, folding his muscled arms across his chest.
“Ye, dear brother,” Lachlan said slowly as if ensuring Alex was listening, “are in love, like the real fuckin’ deal. Hook, line, and sinker. Brawly smitten.” Then Lachlan leaned back in his chair, and a pleased smile spread from ear to ear, like the cartoon Grinch, all satisfied with himself after he'd hatched his plan to keep Christmas from coming.
Alex stared at his brother’s twinkling blue eyes. “Christ Lachlan, ye huv lost yer bloody mind. Next, ye’ll be trying to convince me ye witnessed Santa squeezing his fat fucking arse down the chimney on Christmas Eve.”
Lachlan sighed in resignation, then smacked his hands down on the table and pushed back his chair, its feet scraping across the floor. “Ye daft sod. I’m knackered. I’m going to bed.” He nodded in the direction of the settee. “Now get out of my bedroom and leave me in peace.”
Alex lay in his bed feeling spent, although a nervous energy still buzzed through him. The last thing he’d ever have expected was for one of his siblings to show up here in Canada the day after Christmas. Especially not Lachlan given that he was married and had his boys and wife at home.
If Drew had shown up on his doorstep, Alex would have been less surprised since Drew was known for doing the unexpected. Even if his baby sister Orlagh had shown up, it would have been less of a shock since she’d always talked about wanting to get out of Scotland.
It wouldn’t surprise him if one day she made her way to this side of the pond. His thoughts turned to Helena, the sister they’d lost. Christmas time was always tinged with a combination of happy and sad. God, how he missed her. He knew that they all did.
Seeing Lachlan felt really good though. He’d missed having his family around. He loved the numpty despite his delirious blethering tonight. The man was jet lagged and too damn in love with his own wife. He was seeing the world with some kind of rosy glasses. Alex scoffed out loud. In love. How ridiculous. Christ.