Georgie on His Mind

by Jennifer Shirk

  Jennifer Shirk

  Georgie Mayer's hand formed a tightly balled fist. Little did her brother know he was about five minutes away from a black eye.

  She sat up, and her Very Vamp polished nails dug further into her palms as the taxi rounded the corner of her street. Oh, her brother was dead meat all right. Brad was acting like some superhuman rubber shield, bouncing men away faster than if she were nine months pregnant and wearing a Who's My Daddy? T-shirt. He was sly, using those big brother scare tactics in the beginning, but this ... this was the last straw.

  A black eye was probably too good for him. Murder was the only way to end the insanity. It didn't matter that Brad was a cop. She'd either have to murder him or live under his Fascist regime until she died, or worse, until she became like old Miss Wallinger-a spinster whose only joy in life seemed to be painting Victorian birdhouses.

  A jury would obviously be on her side.

  The taxi came to an abrupt stop outside the condo she shared with her brother, and after paying the man with her last twenty dollars, Georgie charged up the walkway to confront her date-terminating sibling.

  She swung open the door and stood motionless as she surveyed the room. Brad was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, polishing his stupid gun without a care in the world. How perfect. Maybe having a police officer for a brother would finally pay off. Because as soon as he reassembled his gun, took off the safety, loaded it with bullets and instructed her on how to shoot the darn thing, she'd have the murder weapon.

  Brad finally looked up when she slammed the door behind her. "Hey, Georgie," he said with a pleased smile, "you're home early. How was your date with Hank the Broom Guy?"

  "You mean Hank the Floor Guy. He repairs hardwood floors for a living. He doesn't sweep them." Dropping her purse at her feet, she glowered at him. "How could you!"

  He had the nerve to flutter his eyes, as if he was doing a bad Scarlett O'Hara impression. "How could I what?"

  "You had my date arrested!"

  Brad shot up a finger. "Now hold on a minute. I-Hank was actually arrested?" He looked about to laugh, but thought better of it. The first intelligent thing she'd seen him do since she moved back home.

  "Oh, come on," he said. "How could I do that? I was off from work all night, just sitting here minding my own business, cleaning my Glock." He held up the barrel of his pistol and gave her an innocent smile. "See? Clean as a whistle."

  She snorted. "Give me a break. I know how you operate. You called in a favor, didn't you?"

  He dropped his sandy-brown head, suddenly interested in reassembling his gun. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Oh, you don't?" she mocked, rounding in on him. "Well, allow me to fill you in. Hank and I just about made it to the restaurant-which would have been a record for me-when we were pulled over because one of your police officer buddies said Hank wasn't wearing a seat belt. But he was! And you know what else, Brad? Lo and behold, the officer did a check on his license and found a bench warrant out on him for not paying a traffic ticket. The cop just left his car there, cuffed him, and hauled him to the station. Hank tried to tell him he had a good excuse for missing his court date, but your friend wouldn't listen. It was so embarrassing. Now he has to pay a fine, or they're going to keep him in jail."

  Brad shrugged. "Boo-hoo, that's a real shame. The law's the law."

  "Admit it. You did this, didn't you?"

  He stared at her for a long moment, his lips pressed together as if sealed with Crazy Glue. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally stood. "Okay. Look, all I did was write down his license plate number when he came to pick you up and maybe-maybe-call it into the station. In my own defense, I had probable cause for doing that. He had a taillight out"

  "A taillight out? You're trying to ruin my life over a taillight being out?"

  "Ruin your life? Ha, that's a laugh. You should have majored in drama instead of pharmacy. I'm trying to save your life. That guy had no business driving over here to pick you up while there was a warrant out for his arrest. He's the one who didn't pay his ticket. As far as I'm concerned, I just did society a favor too. The mayor may even give me a Good Citizen award"

  After a quick prayer for serenity, Georgie flopped down on the couch and covered her eyes with her hands. "I cannot believe this. I wish Mom and Dad were alive, because I would tell on you big time. You're suffocating me. I can't take it anymore" She sat up and shook her finger at him like a windshield wiper on the fritz. "You know you're using your position in law enforcement for nefarious reasons!"

  Brad rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay, now listen. You're going to have to de-crank the drama a notch. You're acting borderline Desperate Housewives. I just want to make sure you're dating men who are on the level. Jeez, you're my little sister. I have to take care of you. It's what Mom and Dad would have wanted. I was worried about you, Sponge." He stopped for a brief second and, with a pained expression, mumbled, "I love you"

  Her lips broke into a half smile. Saying he loved her and using her adolescent nickname took the wind out of her sails. Of course Brad interfered with her life because he loved her. She knew that was the reason deep down inside. And she loved him right back, which made it so much harder to see him wasting all his time still taking care of her. He needed a life.

  She deserved a life too.

  "You shouldn't be running around with losers like that anyway," he told her, interrupting her thoughts.

  "That's the whole point, Brad. I should be the one to find out if he's a loser or not, not you. I don't need you interfering with who I want to date or anything I want to do. I'm a big girl"-she threw back her shoulders-"no, I'm a woman now."

  Her brother cringed. "A woman?" He grabbed his can of soda and ran it over his forehead, as if he'd just broken into a sweat. "Sheesh, Georgie, you're talking crazy talk. You're not a woman, you're my sister. Did you have anything to drink tonight?"

  She shot him a look. "How could I? I never made it to the restaurant, remember?"

  "Forgot about that," he said with a smirk. "Well, you're too young to be seeing guys like Hank anyway. What was he, like thirty years old?"

  "I'm twenty-four!" Trying to calm herself down, she sat back and waved her wrist with what she hoped looked like an air of feminine sophistication. "Besides, I don't really care about age anyway. Princess Diana was only nineteen years old when she met and married Prince Charles, who was thirtytwo."

  Brad raised his gaze to the ceiling.

  Okay, so he wasn't impressed with her knowledge of May-December romances. That was a bad example anyway since it was a marriage, and it had also ended in divorce. If she wanted to have the upper hand for their next weekly fight over her independence, she'd have to Google a better example.

  "Look," he said with a sigh, "get your head out of the clouds and step into the real world. Life's not all about fun and hanging around men who don't pay their traffic tickets. You need to start getting your resume ready and lining up some job offers."

  "No, I don't. As soon as I get my pharmacy license, Al said he would hire me right on the spot" She beamed, dusting her hands together in front of her face for emphasis. "I want to work there, and since I'm already his intern, it'll be a natural transition." Then she could earn some decent money and finally be able to move out on her own. Still, she doubted once that happened her problems with her brother's smothering would be solved. But at least it would be a step in the right direction.

  "Yeah, well, I have it under good authority that Al's pharmacy might not be doing as well as you think."

  She stared at him, hearing her worst fear come out of his mouth. She needed that job so she could move out. Plus, she loved that store. And she loved the feelings the store evo
ked in her. While she was growing up, her parents would take her there on Sundays and allow her to pick out any candy treat she wanted, something she'd always looked forward to. Mostly because she didn't have to share the candy with Brad, but also because the decision was always her own. She had treasured that time.

  "Wh-what do you mean?" she stammered. "We're fairly busy right now but the summer season hasn't even begun yet. Wait until all the tourists come to town. The store will be a zoo again."

  "Hey, I'm only telling you what Walt told me"

  She went very still. "Walt?"

  "Yeah, Walt Somers. You remember him, don't you?"

  She looked away and down at her nails. "Um ... kind of."

  Oh, brother. Walt Somers? The one who was her brother's best friend from grade school? The one who used to live down the street from her family? The same Walt Somers who was, by far, the only proverbial rat she'd ever met in her life?

  Yeah. She kind of remembered him.

  Growing up, Walt always buzzed around their house, teasing her about her braces, mooching snacks, and weaseling invites to dinner by sucking up to her mother. Every time she came home from school, Walt was there. The boy was a menace with a capital M. It was like having another brother-one you weren't required to donate a kidney to if he needed it. This was lucky for him, because she wouldn't have wasted one drop of blood on that pain in the neck.

  "Ah, come on," her brother said with a grin. "He was prac tically family. Hey, remember when he put sesame seeds in your hair and convinced you that you had head lice?"

  She gritted her teeth. "Unfortunately." To this day, she still couldn't look at a sesame seed bun in the same way.

  "Well, I invited him to stay with us," Brad said, taking a seat on the sofa next to her. "It'll just be for a little while, until he can find his own place."

  A chill ran down her spine, and she bolted upright. "What? Until he can find a place of his own? That could take like ... forever. Why can't he stay in a hotel like every other tourist?"

  "Because he's not a tourist and because I invited him. Hey, what's the matter with you? What's wrong with him? He treated Mom and Dad as if they were his own parents, and he always treated you like a sister, didn't he?" A teasing grin broke out on his lips, and he patted her knee. "Think of it this way, while Walt's staying with us you'll have two big brothers looking out for you"

  She swallowed a scream.

  Wonderful. Just what she needed now-another big brother. She might as well get out the phone book and start calling the local convents.

  On the other hand, bad news for her could really mean good news for Brad. Maybe having Walt around would encourage Brad to get out more and stop worrying about her. Walt was an adult now too. There was no way he could be the same selfish, childish, thought-he-was-too-good-for-therest-of-world type of person. Could he? Well, it didn't matter. If she had to be the adult in this equation, so be it. It would be nice to see Brad relax and have some fun-even at the cost of having someone as annoying as Walt Somers in their home.

  With a little luck, Brad might be diverted enough that she'd actually be able to go out on a date in peace and have a little fun herself. Providing she could get another date. She had a feeling her reputation was preceding her.

  Georgie looked back at her brother and forced a smile. "You're right, I'm sorry. Walt is like family. He is like the brother I never wanted" He shot her a look, which made her laugh. "I mean extra brother I never wanted," she corrected, smiling for real this time.

  Brad grinned too, but she could sense he didn't trust her ready compliance. "Yeah, I thought so. Man, I haven't seen him in ages. It'll be cool to have us all together again. Look, you're sure you're okay with it?"

  "Oh, yeah. Who couldn't use another big brother? I think it's great that he's staying with us"

  Uh-huh. Right.

  She was going to hell in a handbasket for that whopper of a lie. The last thing she needed was another big brother hanging around, choking her independence. One brother making her life difficult was plenty, thank you very much. Of course, she'd play the perfect hostess for her brother's sake. Although the more accurate response to Brad's question would've been she didn't mind Walt staying with them as long as Walt stayed far, far away from her.

  And her hair.

  "Did you run into any traffic?"

  Walt Somers removed his sunglasses and tucked them in his pocket, giving his uncle a wide smile. "Nope. None at all. I made sure I left early enough. Philadelphia traffic doesn't start picking up until around seven"

  "Oh, good. Are you hungry, then?" his uncle asked, pointing to a table on the porch filled with baked goods and a pitcher of iced tea. "Your aunt Donna made you some of your favorite brownies."

  Taking a seat on the chipped rattan rocker, Walt's gaze roamed the quiet surroundings of his uncle's property-from the short expanse of flowering shrubs, all the way to the peach sand and gray-blue waters of the ocean that bordered his backyard. Even on this late cool morning, several people were walking on the beach without a care in the world.

  The pace of Maritime City was sure different from Philadelphia, but the change felt right to him. He needed to come back.

  "We've missed you," Uncle Al said, pouring each of them some iced tea. "It's about time you took over the store, and I couldn't be happier leaving it in your hands while I'm having surgery. You know your father had always hoped to see you run the pharmacy while he was still living. He didn't think you'd ever return once you landed that big city job with that pharmaceutical company. I have to say, I doubted you'd come back too."

  Walt thought about giving up his successful job to take over his father's position in the family business. He was pleased when there was no stab of regret. "Priorities change, Uncle. I didn't like the person I was becoming."

  The death of his father had triggered something in Walt. He realized he should have called his dad more, should have visited more. After his parents' divorce all those years ago, his feelings had closed off. He had kept his family-and people in general-at a distance. Maritime City evoked too many memories he'd wanted to avoid. So he had wrapped himself in his work, always having the perfect excuse to remain detached. But when his uncle had called and told him his father had suffered a heart attack and died, it was the catalyst his own heart needed to thaw the defenses he had built around himself. Something had been missing in his life. Walt knew then, too late, that he needed to come home. His aunt and uncle were the only family he had left now, aside from his good friend, Brad.

  His uncle made a face. "You didn't like the person you were becoming? You don't look so different to me. You look as you always do," he said, squinting through the thick lenses of his glasses. "A little taller, maybe"

  Walt cracked a smile. "On the inside, Uncle Al. I didn't like what I was becoming on the inside. I was so busy trying to keep up with other people and being what they wanted me to be, I lost track of what really matters in my life. Loyalty to my friends and family. That's what's really important."

  "And finding a nice girl to settle down with?"

  "Uh, well, sure. In due time. Tell me about the pharmacy," he said, desperate to change the subject. Good Lord. He didn't need Aunt Donna overhearing this conversation and calling up all her friends who had single daughters in town. If she did overhear, she'd probably have a date lined up for him by sundown. "Since you're not going to be around, I'm going to need some guidance. What exactly do you want me doing while you're recovering from knee surgery? Do you need me to do more managerial things or work the bench too?"

  "Oh" His uncle pushed his dark-framed glasses farther up his nose and blinked. "Yes, a little of both, I'm afraid. I'm short for pharmacist help right now, but I do have quite an intern working for me. She's sharp as a machete. I think you'll like her. She's expecting her license soon, so she's practically running things already. She'll show you what's what"

  "Do you mean Georgie Mayer?"

  "Why, yes," his uncle said, his grin widening. "O
h, I forgot you were friends with her brother. Yes, Georgie. She'll be your right- and left-hand girl. She's a doll. I know you two will get along swell."

  Walt remembered how easy it had been to get little Georgie Mayer all riled up with his teasing when they were younger, and had to chuckle. He was already feeling at home with the memory. "Well, I hope we do get along swell. I'll be staying with her and her brother until I can find a place of my own. No sense staying with you guys and giving Aunt Donna more work to do while you're recovering. It's better I stay out of her way. Brad has been great doing this for me. It's exactly what I missed when I was in the city. Loyal friends."

  He reached for his plate but there was a sudden gleam in his uncle's eye, making him draw back and forget the brownie.

  "So, you're staying with Brad and Georgie, huh?" Al asked, beaming. "How wonderful. Spending a little extra time with Georgie outside of work might be just what you need now that you're back and looking to settle down"

  Walt stared at his uncle until it finally hit him. Mixing business with pleasure with little, chubby Georgie Mayer? Yikes. There was a thought he'd rather not ponder.

  Ever.

  "Uh, no. I don't think so," he said carefully. "I'm on a bit of a hiatus in the romance department" True. "And you know, it's not wise to mix business with pleasure. Besides, I'd like to get settled with the pharmacy and find a place to live first before I venture out in the dating world." Also true. "But thanks for the suggestion. I'll give it some thought when I'm ready." Okay, not true.

  It's not that Walt was a shallow man hung up on looks. He wasn't ... exactly. It's just that Georgie was practically a sister to him.

  His uncle's face crumpled, deepening the creases along his forehead. "That's too bad. Georgie's having a hard time finding a nice young man."

  Walt didn't say anything, but he could imagine her having problems in that area. The poor kid. From what he'd remembered about little Georgie Mayer, she had short, frizzy orange hair, was pale as a ghost, and had braces. A bizarro-world trifecta. He assumed everything but the braces had stayed the same. Nothing against his friend's sister, but those qualities weren't exactly what he fantasized about in a woman. A Muppet maybe.