“How was your match earlier?”
“We won,” Locke replied. “I scored. Twice.”
I bumped fists with him because his goals were pretty good.
The three of us looked towards the doorway when Beckett and Eli suddenly tumbled into the room, limbs tangled together and fists swinging. Beckett was eleven, and Eli was seven, and even though Beckett was clearly trying to restrain his baby brother, it was proving difficult. Eli was the baby of my sons, and because of that, he constantly wanted to prove that he was tough and was, of course, not an actual baby.
“Stop!” Aideen screeched. “Stop!”
They didn’t stop.
“Your mother said stop, so stop!”
My sons listened to me instantly. They rolled away from one another and got to their feet as Aideen rushed over to them, fussing. They tried to push her hands away, but she wouldn’t allow it this time. Locke shook his head at his brothers as though their antics were childish, and I had to agree.
“What are ye’ both fightin’ for this time?”
My sons looked at one another, then at Aideen, and in unison, they said, “He started it.”
“Did not!” Eli hissed. “You did.”
“Me?” Beckett scowled. “You came into me room and took it from me.”
“Because it’s mine, and you took it first.
“Took what?” Locke demanded, irritated. “What the hell are ye’s wafflin’ on about, ye’ dopes?”
“Language,” I warned him, then turned back to my sons. “Answer his question.”
“I was playin’ COD when Eli came into me room and took me controller right out of me hands, then he got mad when I ran after ‘im for it. He’s always takin’ me stuff, and I’m stick to death of it.”
Eli opened his mouth, ready to yell at his brother, but Aideen raised her hand, and it shut him up before he even started speaking.
“Which controller?” she asked Beckett. “Be specific.”
“The blue one ye’ bought me last week.”
Eli’s eyes widened. “Ye’ bought him a blue one?”
“Yes,” Aideen answered. “His black one broke.”
Eli’s cheek flushed red, and he suddenly looked nervous. “I didn’t know that. I thought it was my blue controller that he had.”
“Ye’ didn’t give me a chance to tell ye’. Ye’ just took it and ran.” Beckett glared. “Like ye’ always do. Ye’ never listen. Ye’ just do what ye’ want, and ye’ get away with it ‘cause you’re the baby.”
“I’m not a baby!”
Jesus Christ.
“That’s enough!” I interjected. “Eli, give Beckett back his controller and use your words before your actions the next time something like this happens. And Beckett? Stop implying he’s treated differently because he’s the youngest. You know he’s not.”
Beckett didn’t look at me, which told me he disagreed with me.
“Fine,” he said.
“Okay.” Eli sighed. “I’m sorry, Beck.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he grumbled, took his controller, and walked back down the hallway towards this room. Eli went in search of his own console controller, enlisting Locke’s help, which left me alone with my wife.
“He’s always annoyed with someone.”
I raised a brow. “Who?”
“Beckett.” She sighed. “He’s always grumpy.”
“He’s eleven, and he’s the middle child. He probably feels as if he’s always getting the short end of the stick.”
Aideen nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“Probably?”
My wife looked at me. “Just because you’re right most of the time does not mean you’re right at this very moment, so don’t push it.”
I held my hands in front of my chest and grinned. “Is Keela coming over tonight?”
“She’ll probably swing by when she’s out walkin’ that fat bastard she owns.”
I snorted. “Junior is a good—”
“Don’t ye’ dare compliment ‘im. He is tainted, look at who his father was!”
“You cried more than Keela, Alec and the kids when Storm died,” I reminded her. “You didn’t even cry that much when Tyson and Barbara died a few years before him. Admit it, you loved Storm.”
Aideen’s eyes narrow to slits. “If ye’ ever tell Keela, or Alec, I’ll smother ye’ in your sleep.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, baby doll.”
“Anyway,” she huffed. “It doesn’t matter how I feel because that bloody curse is hangin’ over me.”
Here we go.
“I’m not crazy, so don’t look at me like I am,” she warned. “Storm hated me, and now his son hates me! Will this cycle ever end?”
“Probably not. The curse will remain in place unless something breaks it.”
“Somethin’ like a blood sacrifice?” Aideen perked up. “I volunteer Junior.”
I laughed. “Alec’s family would rain down on you harder than a downpour if you harm their baby.”
“I know.” She sighed. “I’ll just have to live with the curse and hate Junior as much as he hates me.”
“I’m sorry for your suffering,” I teased.
“Don’t be.” My wife grinned. “I enjoy me arguments with ’im, and yes, before ye’ say it, I know we don’t really argue, but in me head, I know he is cursin’ at me when he barks, so I curse back at ‘im so he knows he can’t talk to me that way.”