The Object of My Affection: My Band Mate's Sister

Good Morning

Brona's eyes slowly fluttered open without reluctance. She had woken up naturally, which was rare.

The room was dimly lit. Only a little light was seeping through the closed curtains. The mornings weren't very bright these days as autumn was turning into winter very soon indeed.

Brona rolled over in a zombie-like manner. She wasn't very alert in the mornings, even when she did get a good night's rest. Her eyes landed on the clock to see it read 10 o'clock. She was slightly surprised her mother hadn't woken her up by now. No rest for the wicked. But maybe Mrs Harrison was still in bed herself having gone to bed pretty late due to Brona's homecoming party.

Brona smiled remembering last night and reuniting with her friends and family once again. It started out as a small gathering, Mrs Harrison used any excuse to play the hostess, but as it got later, more and more began to arrive. It was all a little too much, especially the mess that the sitting room was and is in. Still, Brona knew it wouldn't put her mother off throwing parties.

The fact that she wasn't suffering from a hangover and knowing a few others were added to the smile. She vowed never to drink very much after the Hamburg incident. She'd been there for two weeks but her recollection on what went on was very blurry. 

Her eyes trailed over to the shut door, which was directly in front of the door of her brothers' bedroom. Peter was the only one out of the three who slept there now. He was probably suffering from one, again. According to Mickey, who was a bar tender at the local and his mate, he'd been at the pub most nights and he would have thrown him out if he wasn't spending so much.

Brona's heart swelled with sympathy, not to be confused with pity. The poor lad had been through a rough patch. It all started when that tart, Delia, had walked through O'Sullivan's door. Peter fell in love instantly. They were engaged within a week and broke up within the month. She was nothing but a gold digging tart, who spent his money, broke his heart and got him evicted.

The day Brona had found an eviction note on the apartment door and Peter lying on his apartment floor dejected still lay painfully fresh in her memory. It was the absence the giddiness of his features-his bubbly blue eyes, his goofy grin-that pained her the most.

"Mam? Dad?" Brona called, poking her head in the kitchen door. They raised their heads from their lunch and she offered them her best smile. "He followed me 'ome," she continued, entering the room fully with a sad Peter on her tail. She wasn't sure which pained him the most, the broken heart or his damaged pride. "Can we keep 'im?"

Hopefully, their chat from last night would fix him. She had pressed him about it was time to move on; no point dwelling in the past or you could get trapped there. She believed in moving on.

"One day, you'll meet someone else and you'll get married. It may be second best. But it doesn't mean you can't 'ave a life."

Peter was resilient. Always falling in and out of love fast. Hopefully, this wouldn't faze him for much longer. 

Let's see, today's Friday, Brona thought to herself as she played with the ends of her hair, which was tied into a plait, and plucked at spilt-ends she came across. What's on Friday?

She hadn't the burden of going to work for a few more days and she was pleased to be free of wakening up in the middle of the night to tend to the shop. Although, she might pop in later to see Conall, and even her beer bellied, stingy boss, Norman Baker.

I'll visit Granny, Brona thought to herself. She was sort of excited to tell her interfering grandmother, Mary Harrison, that London had given her inspiration like they had hoped.