Moira and the Family

[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Moira eyed the ringing phone with some distrust. Cain had recently been kind enough to locate another one for her, but she didn’t want to bust this one open if it was Joe again. So, she waited patiently for the answering machine to pick up it.

“Not ‘ere right now, leave a message.”

Beep.

“Moira, if’n ye dinnae answer th’ bloody phone I’ll ‘ave yer ‘ead. I know yer there.”

With a surprised squeal, she snatched the phone up. “Uncle!”

“Moira, there ye are.” The voice on the other end of the phone was loud, incredibly Scottish but warm with affection. “’ow’s me favorite niece?”

“Yer *only* niece is okay.” She settled onto the couch in her office, glad the door was shut. She smiled. “’ow’re ye?”

“’bout as well as I can be, I guess. Me daughter’s givin’ me white ‘air.”

“Ye’ve ‘ad tha’ since I was born,” she reminded him. “Ye said it was mum who gave ye tha’?”

“Well, she’s given me more.”

“Somethin’ wron’?”

“Nay, nay! She’s jus’ bein’ stubborn, wild an’ outspoken enough ta give me a bleedin’ ‘eart attack!”

“So, she’s normal, aye?”

“Smart ass.”

“I am me mother’s daughter.”

“Tha’ ye are.”

The familiar clinking sounds in the background warmed Moira’s heart. She loved the pub nearly as much as she loved Muir. Muir had so many bad memories interwoven with the good that the pub had quickly become an escape for her. At first, it had been the alcohol but even after, she’d go and visit her family and just sit.

If she searched her memories hard enough, she could nearly smell the thick woody, musky smell and hear the soft laughter and conversation of the local patrons.

“Any particular reason for th’ call?” Her heart skipped a beat. Billie was getting older, into his sixties now, and she hoped it didn’t have to do with his health.

“Rory came ta visit. Apparently, yer guests are drivin’ ‘im nuts.” There was a pause. “Yer nay bloody comin’ ‘ome any time soon?! Moira!”

She blinked. “I didna say tha’! I cannae right now!”

“Do ye want ta?”

“What?”

“Come ‘ome. Moira, somethin’s got ye by th’ proverbial balls an’ ‘avin’ ye stay put. Muir is, or at least, was yer life? I’m jus’ a concerned uncle who wants ta know wha’s up an’ why ‘is niece ‘asna been ‘ome in many, many months.”

The couch squeaked slightly as she shifted. “I feel needed ‘ere. I was needed at Muir, but nay like this. Different stresses, different experiences. An’…”

“Wha’?” Billie chuckled. “Dinnae tell me yer fallin’ fer th’ wee bald man?”

“Charles, ‘is name is Charles, Uncle. An’ nay, ‘tis…Nate’s ‘ere.”

There was a pause. “’e is?!” was fairly roared across the phone line but there was a good tone to it. “Why dinnae ye bloody well say s’, me wee gowan.” Moira grinned at the nickname. It meant “daisy” and apparently he had given it to her when she attempted to eat some when she was younger. “God above, woman, ‘ad I know I wouldna ‘ave asked! Though ye could brin’ ‘im ‘ome…”

“Nay wit’ me guests there right now,” she warned him.

“Ahhh…more “if’n I tell ye, I ‘ave ta kill ye”?”

“Aye, pretty much.”

“So, ‘ow IS th’ bi’ bastard?”

“’e’s…nay doin’ so well.”

Billie’s voice boomed across, concern coloring his words. “Moira, wha’s wron’? ‘e sick again?”

“Aye, jus’ nay in th’ same way. ‘Tis ‘ard, ye know, tryin’…ta nay let ‘im push me away because ‘e’s afraid an’ ta keep fightin’.”

“…so, are ye sayin’…”

She glowered. “Maybe.”

There was a whoop. “Anna owes me fourty pounds!”

“Ye bet on me?” Moira was indignant.

“O’ course we did, ye are family aren’t ye? We bet on yer da an’ mum.”

“…ye did?”

“Bloody ‘ell yes, me sister landed me $150.”

“Yer a bloody…” She laughed and shook her head. “But we’re nay –certain—yet, uncle dearest, so dinnae go collectin’ from me cousin jus’ yet, aye?”

“Stop tryin’ ta kid me, gowan, ‘tis been nearly seven years in th’ makin’. Ye tw’ ‘ave jus’ been so fuckin’ stubborn…”

A voice suddenly yelled in the background and there was a lot of shouting and crashing. “Wha’ th’ ruttin’ ‘ell is THA’?”

“Tha’ is yer sweet, sensible cousin tossin’ some pisser out on ‘is ear. She’s gotten quite good at tha’.”

Moira winced at the noises. “Aye, sounds like. When she’s done bettin’ up th’ town tough guy, put her on th’ phone.”

“Only if ye promise ta talk ta me again before ye get off th’ phone, love.”

“’Course.”

As she waited for Anna to get on the phone, Moira went back to her computer. With a couple of clicks, she typed a response to Nathan’s journal and then leaned back in the chair.

“MOIRA!”

“Anna!”

She grinned. Both had been only children and while there was a ten year age difference, they still had been rather close. She remembered rather clearly Anna teaming up with Nathan during the really bad days of first being sober.

Moira rubbed her chin and shook her head. Her little cousin had one hell of a right hook. But Moira had responded with a head butt after all…so it had been declared a truce, mainly by Nathan.

“How’re ye, ye bloody bitch, nay callin’ or droppin’ by!”

“I’m doin’ well, ye soddin’ air head, been right down busy ‘ere.” Moira’s accent took a sudden drop for the worse. “Good ta ‘ear from ye, though. Miss ye like mad, tha’ I do.”

Anna laughed. “I can ‘ear yer accent thickenin’! We’ll rid ye o’ any American influences. Unless it ‘appens ta be a certain Dayspring, aye?”

“I jus’ told Billie ‘e was ‘ere, ye listenin’ on th’ other line again, wee one?”

“Nay, I jus’ know me cousin well enough ta ‘ave figured out wha’ was keepin’ ‘er so far from ‘ome this lon’, ye old fart.”

The friendly bickering was starting to relax Moira and she hadn’t realized how tense she was.

“So! When do I get details!”

“Wha’ makes ye think I’m givin’ ye details?!”

“Moooiiiirraaaaa,” Anna whined, “I told ye ‘bout me relationships! I dinnae ‘ave ANYONE ta gossip wit’ now tha’ yer nay ‘ere! An’ Rory’s ta bloody grumpy ta tease!”

“Billie mentioned ‘e came over…”

“Nearly every other night now.”

“Drinkin’?” Moira was worried, that wasn’t like Rory at all.

“Nay, ‘ardly any. Jus’ sits there an’ mopes. Actually, tha’s ‘ow I knew ‘bout Nate. ‘e told me, grumblin’ th’ entire way.”

Moira had long ago perfected the art of eye rolling. “Bloody ‘ell, ‘e’s a giant two year old.”

“Give th’ poor man a break, will ye? ‘e’s so ‘eartsick ‘tis sad ta watch ‘im.”

“…’eartsick?”

“Tell me ye –knew-?” Anna gasped. “Ye dinnae?! Moira! Th’ man’s been after ye fer years!”

“WHA’?!” Moira nearly sent her chair tumbling. “Yer kiddin’ wit’ me, aye? Pullin’ me leg?”

“Nay! I swear ta ye on tha’ leather jacket yer da made ye destroy!”

“Bloody FUCK.” Moira facepalmed. “I jus’ thought ‘e was jealous o’ me friendship wit’ Nathan.”

“Are ye insane? ‘e’s been wantin’ a piece o’ Kinross fer a while now!”

“ANNA!”

“Well, ‘e ‘AS! Oh, look, da’s back! Love ye!”

There was massive giggling as Billie took the phone back. “Do I want ta know?”

“As soon as I figure it out, I’ll let ye know.”

“Are ye at least comin’ ‘ome ta visit us, Moira?”

“I dinnae know, uncle. ‘Tis so ‘ectic ‘ere.”

“Fine. Tha’ settles it. Anna an’ I’ll figure out a good time ta shut down ‘Bairn an' th' Dove’ an’ –we’ll- come fer a visit.”

Shock hit Moira like a train. “Ye’d close down th’ pub fer me?” she whispered.

“O’ COURSE we would, ye bloody daft female!” Billie bellowed. “Yer family an’ we damned well MISS ye! An’ we’re worried ‘bout ye.”

“I’m nay goin’ ta tell ye no. I…miss ye all so much,” her voice softened and she signed. “As much as I’m lovin’ it over ‘ere, I miss Scotland an’ ye so verra much, Billie.”

“Well, than ‘tis settled. We’ll figure out somethin’. In th’ meantime, expect a box from us. Birthday box.”

“Me birthday isna until –May-.”

“Fine. Care package an’ then we’ll send ye a birthday box.”

“Yer t’ much.”

“Oh, aye, I know. Listen, me love, ‘tis startin’ ta get busy. Will ye at least call soon?”

“Aye! Aye! I will, I promise.”

“I’ll ‘old ye ta tha’. Take care o’ yerself, sweetie, an’ say ‘ello ta Nathan.”

“I will. I love ye.”

“Love ye too.”