Page 44 of The Heir

“Hello?” I sleepily murmured.

“March? Oh man, March, thank God. Listen, honey, it’s Aunt Carly. We’re short staffed, babe. Two girls called in on the day shift, and the state was already across town at that home for the developmentally disabled last week. We’re expecting them any day–” She rambled at breakneck speed.

“Yeah. Okay. Alright. I’ll be there at six.” I blindly tossed words at her until she shut up.

“Oh, you’re an angel.” She sighed and hung up in my ear.

“Ugh,” I groaned, flopping back against the pillow.

I hated being called blindly into work. Especially after a night out.

“Shit.” I carried on cursing as I flung the covers away and flipped the closet light on.

I had two pairs of pants, a long-sleeve shirt, and one set of scrubs hanging in there. The uniform was hunter green, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going on stage or to meet anyone new. My residents recognized my smile and friendly banter, not how fashionable my britches were.

A few moments later, I’d managed to shower and dress. My hair was wet, and I hated brushing it when it was wet, so I left it hanging like a wild lion’s mane while I shuffled to the kitchen in search of coffee.

“Morning, sugar.” Grandpa greeted, causing me to draw in a wild breath.

“Donovan,” Grandma laughed, tapping his arm in a light-hearted scold.

“It’s not his fault. I just– It’s early. People aren’t usually up this early at Dad’s house.”

Grandpa snorted like I’d made the understatement of the year.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and added a little water to cool it down. I hated scalding coffee first thing in the morning. Taking cautious sips until I was certain I wouldn’t lose half my taste buds, I gently sat down and finally committed to taking a drink.

“Grandpa says you had a young man over last night?” Grandma smiled expectantly at me; her eyes wide with excitement.

I slowly blinked, my brain still thawing.

“Huh?” I stammered.

“She was just curious about the O’Brian boy, is all,” Grandpa explained.

“Aviston,” I reminded him, suddenly catching on.

He frowned and nodded, before asking “Yeah. So, his father was the one what died in the crash? With the anhydrous tank and all?”

“I, uh– ” I blinked, not really trying to keep them at a distance, I just wasn’t ever sure how to answer them when they asked after my father’s friends and the things that went on. “Yeah. Maybe? I, uhm… I was little, you know. I think– I remember his mother living with Oak after momma died. Oak had a big yard, and we’d have marshmallow roasts there. I think maybe they were trying to distract us– Trying to make things seem normal for a second for us kids… I don’t know. Oak was good at that.”

My grandfather gave a sage nod, “Oakland O’Brian served his country. He was in the service. He came home for a time when his mother got sick. He stuck around until her death and then went and became a federal agent. He caught the son of a bitch who killed your mother. He’s a damn good man.”

I smiled, pleased to have found a subject that didn’t leave anyone hostile where my mother and the club was concerned.

“His name might be Aviston, but I’d wager it’s the O’Brian influence that raised him. I could tell by how he spoke to me. He addressed me properly. The boy even shook my hand,”Grandfather seemed to have forgotten I was in the room, he was animated in his recounting of it all for my gran.

“I should get to work,” I quietly whispered, hoping to sneak out while they were distracted.

I only took about three steps, before I recalled how I had arrived.

“Shit,” I whispered, causing both of my religious grandparents to instantly hush.

I flashed an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I just– forgot how I– Blaze dropped me off.”

“Where is your car, honey?” my grandmother asked.

“It’s at Aunt Trista’s house, my dad showed up and I left in a hurry. I kind of left it behind.” I stretched the truth a little.

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