Beers, Lies and Alibis (Warblers Point Series Book 2) (7 page)

“Fine,” she lied.
 

“Can you elaborate?”

She didn’t speak, she just looked down at the silver-encrusted bracelet she was wearing.
 

“The point of you coming here is so you can talk about…”

“I actually don’t want to be here so, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to get going.”

She grabbed her purse and started to get up when the doctor said, “Neala, sit down.”

Neala looked at her parents’ friend and sat down, not because he told her to, but because people were invested in her well-being. Her parents wanted her to get better and she needed to get better for her daughter. Deep down, Neala knew Liam would be able to take care of Catherine, no problem, if something ever happened to her, but Neala couldn’t imagine leaving her daughter to grow up motherless.
 

Phil, her doctor and parents’ friend continued, “Now, please tell me how you really are feeling.”

Neala sat back in her seat while crossing her legs, making sure to pull down the hem of her skirt so she didn’t show off her Britney.
 

“You really want to know how I am…Phil?” Neala dragged out his name. “I feel like fucking fungus trapped in a drunk man’s dick hole, okay? I feel like I could walk around Main Street and punch every person who walks toward me just for breathing the same air as me.” She leaned in closer and said, “I feel like ripping off that food-encrusted mustache of yours and shoving it so far up your ass, it will tickle your small intestine.”

Phil shifted in his seat and cleared his throat as Neala sat back with smirk crossing her face.

He made a quick note on his notepad before saying, “I think we need to change your medication.”

“You think?”

“Sarcasm isn’t going to get you very far…”

Neala held up her hand. “I’m going to stop you right there, Phil. The reason I am here is to please my parents and find the treatment I need. What I don’t need is you telling me how to live my life. You are supposed to sit there for an hour, nod your head at my pathetic life and then write me a prescription, got it? Keep your comments to yourself. You are not my parents and you’re sure as hell not my husband.”

The mention of Liam perked Phil up.
 

“How is Liam?”

“How should I know? I don’t talk to him and it’s best that way.”

“But Neala…”

“Hey quack, what the hell did I say? Keep your fucking two-cent opinions to yourself.”

The need to take off her high heel and drive it through Phil’s prodding eyeballs was almost overwhelming. She had been feeling extremely violent lately and she didn’t like it at all, especially when she was with her daughter.
 

Neala would never hurt her daughter; she was the most important thing in her life, but the other day while they were sledding, Neala felt an overwhelming sense of annoyance at her daughter’s laugh. A child’s laugh…shouldn’t that bring someone great joy? Shouldn’t a parent love to hear that joyous ring of their child in such a happy state? Was she that fucked up that her daughter’s sweet laughter made her want to rip her sled to pieces with her teeth?

“What has your brow creasing like that? What are you thinking about Neala?” Phil asked, in a soothing tone that once again grated on her nerves.
 

“I need new medication.” Neala rubbed her head as she felt defeat take over her body.
 

“I can give you medication Neala, but you are also going to need to learn how to talk about your feelings. You can’t rely on the medication. If you keep bottling things up you’re going to explode, and not just on me.”

A tear fell down Neala’s face as she tried to rein in her erratic emotions. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings; she didn’t want to be in this damn office that was suffocating her to death. She was suffocating.
 

Neala looked around and saw the walls starting to get closer to her with every breath she took. Phil’s irritating voice rang through her ears constantly telling her to talk to him as the room spun at all different kinds of crazy angles.
 

Her lungs seized in her chest as she tried to gain air into her body. She couldn’t breathe, nothing was coming in. Someone was suffocating her. It felt like a pillow was being shoved in her face. She thrashed about, trying to knock away whoever was trying to suffocate her, but she couldn’t make any kind of contact. Instead, she gasped for air, praying that whoever had a hold on her would just end her life; just get it over with.
 

Flashes of Catherine ran through her head as the room turned to black and she felt herself drift off into the dark.
 

In the faint distance, she could hear Phil scream to the receptionist to dial 911, but she didn’t hold on long enough to find out why because everything went black and she finally felt at peace.
 

***

“Thanks for coming in again, Tipper. I know it’s not your usual night,” Finn said, as Tipper wrapped an apron around her waist.
 

She was wearing an O’Leary’s polo, a short black skirt, and heels. She always wore heels, which perplexed all three O’Leary men since at the end of their night, their feet were begging to be put up, so they had no clue how Tipper was able to wear heels for an entire shift.
 

“Not a problem, Finn.” She patted Finn’s face and walked toward the bar.
 

At that minute, Bradon popped out of the kitchen and spotted Tipper. A scowl crossed his face.
 

“What the hell is that skank doing here?” Bradon asked, as he pointed at Tipper.
 

It was going to be one fucking long night, Finn thought, as he approached his brother. Finn dreaded when he had to work weekends because that meant he had to work with Bradon and Tipper together. They were like a bathtub full of water and a powered up hair dryer; they don’t go well together and you didn’t want to be anywhere near them when they were together…it was deadly.
 

“Just because you couldn’t pay a hooker to suck your dick off today doesn’t mean you need to take it out on us,” Tipper said, as she started stacking glasses.
 

Finn laughed to himself as he watched Bradon struggle for a comeback. Most of the time, Tipper won their battles about who could throw the most insults and Finn knew it drove Bradon insane.
 

Personally, Finn thought Bradon had some kind of weird and complex feelings for Tipper, but whenever he talked to Bradon about it, he nearly cut Finn’s head off at the suggestion. Bradon refused to acknowledge that Tipper actually was an extremely attractive woman and swore that he wouldn’t go near Tipper, even if someone paid him. Tipper had the same feelings; it was almost comical to listen to them talk about each other. All in all, they hated each other and working with them at the pub at the same time was pure torture.
 

Bradon sidled up next to Finn and said, “Where’s Liam? He doesn’t have Catherine tonight and it’s not the weekend, so why is the uneven-breasted beast here?”

“Beast? Really, Bradon? You can do better than that. Try cow next time, that will cut me to the core,” Tipper said sarcastically, as she brought more clean cups to the front of the pub.
 

“Seriously, dude…What is she doing here?”

Finn raked his hand over his face as he turned away from Tipper so his back was toward her now. Finn didn’t like airing out the family’s dirty laundry in front of people, even though Tipper was practically family. He still thought he would give Liam a little bit of privacy.
 

“Liam had to go to the hospital. Something happened with Neala and he couldn’t be here, so if you could please try to get along with Tipper tonight and give me a break from your bickering, it would be appreciated.”

“Aw, hell. Is Neala okay?”

It was a rare sighting to see Bradon actually care about anything other than his dick, so Finn was almost shocked at the caring tone in Bradon’s voice.
 

“No clue. Her parents called Liam and he sprinted out of here asking if I could call Tipper to cover.”

“She didn’t croak, did she?” Bradon said, while chewing on a toothpick.
 

And there was the Bradon he knew and, for some odd reason, loved.
 

“No clue and could you show a little class? Jesus.”

“What? Am I not allowed to say croaked?”

Finn was about to respond when the pub door flew open and banged against the wall. Both Finn and Bradon whipped their heads around to see Mary Margaret standing in the doorway with her white frilly apron still tied around her body, her vibrant red hair sticking up on all ends and her coat half on her body and half dangling down.
 

“Ma, what the hell?” Finn asked.
 

“Oh Jesus, Mary and poor old Joseph, is she alright?” Mary Margaret was breathing heavily as she spoke. Finn and Bradon approached her and took in the smeared mascara on her face and blotchy eyes. She looked disheveled and unkempt, which was a very rare occurrence for Mary Margaret; she always had to look her best.
 

Her accent was always extremely thick when she was upset.
 

“Who? Neala?” Finn asked.

“Of course Neala. Who else…” Mary Margaret paused for a second and then her hand went to her forehead as she leaned against the wall. “Not me baby girl, tell me it’s not me baby girl.”

Confused, Finn asked, “Fiona? No, she’s fine.”

Mary Margaret smacked both of her sons on the backs of their heads, causing both of them to whine and rub their heads. “Sweet baby Jesus, don’t ya joke like that.”

“What? We didn’t joke, ma.”

“Finn O’Leary, don’t ya dare sass me.”

Bradon chuckled to the side as they both tried to decipher what the hell their mom was trying to say.
 

“Ma, I wasn’t sassing you. I just was confused. Where’s Da?”
 

Mary Margaret looked around with a confused look on her face. “Well, I’ll be damned. I thought I saw him get in the car.”

At that moment, Carlin walked in with his clothes unruly and minus one shoe.
 

“Ya crazy-ass woman! What were ya thinking just taking off like that? I barely got me leg in the car before you drove off. Norm down the street had to pick me up from the stoplight at Main from where I flew out of the car. Damn women drivers and their hormones. Tipper, get the old man a jar of Guinness.”

“Sure, Mr. O’Leary.”

“Ya think that’s smart, Carlin? Drinking when we don’t know the state of one of our own?”

Not wanting to make a scene with the incoming customers, Finn ushered his loud, crazy-ass family to the back of the pub so they could speak privately.
 

“She had a panic attack, Mary Margaret, not a brain aneurysm. We didn’t need to fly over here. I bet these two eejits don’t know more than we do, am I right?” Carlin asked Finn and Bradon.
 

Carlin could be a rather intimidating man and, at the moment, Finn was shaking in his boots. Ever since Fiona left, his parents hadn’t been on the best terms. Two Irish hotheads that were hurting from missing their one and only daughter was a lethal combination.
 

“Well, boy? I asked ya a question.”

Finn snapped out of his daze and said, “I don’t know anything…just that we had to call in Tipper to cover for Liam and that Neala was in the hospital.”

Mary Margaret wailed as she sat in a chair and started fanning herself.
 

“The poor lassie, in the hospital. The hospital! What are we supposed to do?”

“Calming down would be job number one,” Bradon said, while patting Mary Margaret on the shoulder.
 

Carlin pointed his finger at Bradon. “Don’t ya patronize me wife.”

Bradon held up his hands in defense. “I was just offering up suggestions.”

They all just stood there, staring at each other, not saying a word because no matter what Bradon or Finn said, they were going to get yelled at. It was one of those kind of nights for the O’Learys where their happy go lucky atmosphere was nowhere to be found, but the hot-tempered Irish blood was flowing at an uncontrollable rate.
 

Tipper poked her head through the swinging door and disrupted the tension that was brewing in the kitchen.
 

She held up Finn’s phone and said, “Uh, Liam is on the phone. I thought you might have wanted me to answer it...”

“Oh Liam!” Mary Margaret shrieked as she continued to fan her face.
 

Rolling his eyes, Finn stepped forward and grabbed the phone from Tipper while mouthing a thank you to her and stepped to the side, not that it mattered because all ears were leaning toward his conversation.
 

“Hey Liam, how is she?”

“She’s fine. She had a serious panic attack and was taken in to the hospital because she was not allowing herself to breathe. They have her hooked up on oxygen now and are making sure she is okay. They’re going to keep her overnight for observation, but she’s okay.”