Episode 7: Steely Sibling Fun

Jack Steely rubbed the grit from his eyes. It was too damn early to be up after a late night closing the bar. His limbs felt heavy and his eyes burned. If he’d had his way he’d still be snuggled up to Patricia…or wait—Petunia? Penelope? Damned if he could remember.

“Last load, boss,” Greg, the day manager called down from the delivery truck full of liquor. Jack watched sleepily as the younger man and the grisly delivery man wheeled two red dollies loaded with boxes of every brand and kind of liquor a man could dream of.

“Good deal,” he nodded as the two men wheeled the wears past him and into the back store room of the bar.

“Dag-gummit, Jack!”

Turning to grin at his sister, Jack suddenly felt a lot more awake.

“Aren’t you looking lovely this morning?” he took in the coffee stain on her shirt and the glitter of annoyance in her eyes. He did so love annoying his sister. Even when he hadn’t meant to.

“I would have met the delivery, you big dope,” she smacked him on the arm and he wrestled her into a headlock to rub his knuckles on the top of her head. She shoved at him, a rare four letter word escaping her lips.

Releasing her, he chuckled. “Good morning to you, too. Guess Laurel was wrong.”

She shook her hair out if it’s now disastrous ponytail and glared at him. “I swear, that woman should be run out of town on a rail.”

Jack laughed at his sister and slung an arm around her as they headed through the storeroom and into the kitchen. “She’s not so bad.”

“Of course not to you. You don’t mind people speculating on your sex-life.”

“Probably because I actually have one.”

“Shut up.”

Grinning, Jack tugged the doors open on the industrial sized fridge and removed two rootbeers and a glass cake dome. He'd spied the special treat Dewey had left Amrys when he'd checked the stock the night before and he wanted to get a share before she could get her little manicured hands on it.

“She’s going to kill you,” Jenna rolled her eyes and took one of the dark bottles from him.

“With her pointy little boot,” he agreed with a careless shrug. He slid the cake onto the prep counter and reached into the cutlery tub for a fork. “Ahhhh,” he praised when he removed the lid. “Coconut. My favorite.”

“It’s Amrys’ favorite, too,” Jenna fingered a slather of the icing and stuck it in her mouth. “And mine,” she grinned.

Slicing them both a large portion, Jack watched his sister from the corner of his eye. Jenna was younger than him by two years and older than Amrys by three. But of his two sisters, she was the one he worried about the most.

Their parents always said they worried about her the least because she had her shit together. She owned her own home, kept the business end of the bar running smoothly and up until recently, had been settled quite comfortably, drama free.

But Jack worried plenty. Watching her eat the frosting first, it struck him as odd that  no one else saw the vulnerability there. Of the three Steely children, Jenna had been the one given the least amount of attention. As the middle child, she’d often gotten pushed to the back of the line in favor of the football hero eldest son and the princess baby daughter.

As children he hadn’t really noticed it so much. But now…seeing her so fearful of others and so quick to spend her life alone—it worried him.

“Stop,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“So you weren’t making out with Aiden in the parking lot last night?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No. Son of a biscuit tried, though. Honest to Pete, I don’t know what he was thinking.”

“Probably that he still loves you, Jen. Can’t you cut the guy some slack? He did rescue you last night, after all.”

“I’m not discussing this. I didn’t ask to be rescued and screw you for taking his side.”

Jack pushed away his half eaten cake and grabbed her wrist when she would have fled. “You know I’m always on your side. I threatened to kick his teeth in, didn’t I?”

She sniffed and leaned against the counter, hugging herself. “I didn’t want him to wreck your pretty face,” she nodded. “Maybe I should have let him.”

Flicking cake crumbs at her, he wondered if he shouldn’t have let him, too. Jenna badly needed someone to stand up for her. Damn that Aiden Blackston for failing her.

“My cake!” Amrys’ shriek made his ears ring and Jack shook his head to diminish the echo.

“Oh this was yours?” He slid his cake back towards him and forked up a big bite. “It’s good,” he taunted, his mouth full.

“You’re a real jackass,” Amrys huffed as she marched across the kitchen to survey the damage. Seeing the cake partially eaten, she whirled to Jenna, hands on her hips. “I told you to bring it upstairs to the office. My cake,” she moaned, turning back to the cake. “My beautiful delicious cake.”

“Oh stop,” Jenna laughed and placed her cake crumb spattered plate in the sink. “There’s still plenty left and it isn’t as though you’ll eat more than a taste anyway.”

“You’re both evil.” Amrys’ eyes glittered as she slammed the dome back on the cake plate and hugged it to her chest.

Jack snickered. He loved annoying Amrys even more.  Whoever said having sisters wasn’t entertaining? “I keep waiting for her to say she’s gonna tell Mama on us.”

“You laugh, Jackson Marcus Steely but I just might. Or worse,” her eyes took on that mischievously evil glint she was best known for, “I’ll tell Dewey on you.”

Faking a shudder, Jack playfully declared, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.”

Jenna rolled her eyes and made her way past them, pausing to kiss Jack’s temple as she collected her root beer on her way out. “Clean that up before Finn gets here or you really will be in trouble,” she called, flipping them a wave as she left.

Amrys glared at him a split second longer before heaving a martyred sigh and removing the cake dome again. She grabbed his fork and dug a large corner out of the cake, shoveling it in her mouth with a moan.

“Classy,” Jack teased.

“You know it.” Amrys swallowed her cake and chased it with a sip of his root beer, making a face. “I don’t see how you two drink this stuff. Nasty.”

He merely grabbed his fork back and dug out a bite for himself. “No one asked you to drink it.”

“And still, you’re eating my cake. You’re from the devil, you know that?”

“So you keep saying, little sis. So you keep saying.”