Music and laughter filled The Banshee's Mule -- our local pub. Dad belched as he returned with another round of tall, frothy ales. Our cosy corner was slightly shielded from the noise. It was good to have spent some time with the old man. I didn't live that far away, but I seldom visited home these days. No real reason. Just life.
"I'm glad to hear things are going well for you, son."
I raised my pint to clink off his. Beer splattered the table. We downed half the mug. I joined him with his next burp.
"Thanks dad. I'm glad we did this tonight. Let's not make it a one-time thing."
"I'll drink to that! Tell me, though; the promotion, the car, a new apartment, where's the woman, Alex?"
I rolled my eyes and guffawed.
"Women, dad. Plural. I get my fair share. What about you? Any hot dates since..."
"Your mother? Nah, son. Bit long in the tooth for that. Although, you wouldn't mind if I picked up one of those fine looking ladies at the bar, would you?"
I humoured his half serious beer talk and glanced over. The old biddies gawked at my howling laughter. The fucker kept a straight face the whole time. He had a knack for making me look a fool.
"Even mum was better than that lot! Jeez...Can't believe I just said that."
"You miss her is all. Me too."
"Yeah, but still..."
"Alcohol, son. Makes us say all kinds of things. It's a pity your sister isn't here," he said, downing his pint.
"My round," I announced, rising from the table.
Shaking my head, I chuckled. I did miss mum. She was the one who always brought the family together. A rare thing nowadays. As I watched the ruby liquid fill the glasses, I thought about Michelle. She'd sent me her polite rejection during the week, saying she had plans, and that us boys should have some quality time. I wondered how much of that was true.
"Pretty sure she's out with Brian," I said as I passed him his beer.
"Lucky Brian."
It was probably the warm fuzziness of the booze, but I knew he'd registered my instant nod of agreement.
"Careful, son. Too many more of these and you'll end up looking like me!"
The old man had packed on more than a few pounds over the years. Big and rugged, he'd probably have been a lot fatter if it wasn't for his construction job. I, on the other hand, countered my hectic lifestyle of stocks, booze, and easy women, with a rigorous gym schedule. The women certainly helped with the cardio.
"You wouldn't catch Michelle drinking this stuff."
"No," dad said, staring into space. "You would not. She could do with a few. Not a pick that girl."
"Yeah? I haven't seen her in a while. You sure she hasn't put on a few pounds? She does like to party."
"Nope. Still does her dancing and gets plenty of exercise."
"Exercise?" I said sarcastically. "I never thought she'd go with someone like Brian. Seems like too much of a...I dunno...nice guy."
"Well I'd expect no less. She's a Walsh. I raised my daughter well."
At 23, and with the aid of the striking photo dad was in possession of, Michelle was clearly at the top of her game. I suppose she had been for quite some time. Long brunette hair, with a body that could corrupt the most noble of men. My nervous eyes flicked between my pint and his face.
"Dad...Can I tell you something?"
"One moment, son."
He got up and went to the bar. I'm glad he did. What was I thinking? I decided I was going to back track and make something up. I don't know what had gotten into me. Probably the drink. He sat down and pushed the tumbler of whiskey across to me. He peered down at his own potent brew.
"You were saying?"
"Ah, nothing. Just, I almost knocked up some girl from the gym. False alarm, thankfully."
His expression conveyed my bullshit. He brought whiskey to his lips and paused.
"It's that thing she does with her tongue, isn't it?"
He knocked it back and slammed the glass on the table. My throat burned as I followed suit.
"Lucky fucking Brian," we said in unison.
The hustle and bustle of the pub filled our guilty silence for a while. I downed the last drabs of whiskey and looked him straight in the eye.
"Just so I'm getting this straight? All that time she was with you as well?"
"Looks like it. But I was careful. More careful than you it seems."
"I suppose spending hours in my room with my sister raised suspicion?"
"That, and the way her clothes hung. You can always tell when they've been thrown back on in a hurry," he said, chuckling. "Do you know how many times I stopped your mother from almost walking in on you two?"
I wasn't listening to him. I was still taken aback by the direction our conversation had taken.
"She was playing both of us. So messed up."
"Don't think of it like that, son. You know what your sister is like. When she wants something, she gets it."
My phone vibrated and lit up. Dad's jingled the incoming text a few seconds later. The heart emoji was a nice touch. We both looked up at each other having read the exact same text. Shame failed to mask the perverted smiles that marked our faces.
"I guess Brian had an early night."
Michelle was on her way.
***
Disappointed eyes met as the door swung open once again. It wasn't her. We nursed our second whiskey.
"So...Since we're talking about it; How did it start with you?"
Dad leaned close, as if the whole bar was privy to our conversation.
"Son, this is just pub talk, ok? It doesn't leave this place."
"Of course. I understand."
He rested his elbows on the table.
"I can't remember when exactly. But we were at home, watching a movie or something; both of us curled up on the sofa. Nothing too unusual, y'know. I guess your mother was away."
"Go on. Were you having a few drinks?"
"Not that I remember. As I said, your sister was kind of cuddled up against me. Her head on my lap."
