What's a Girl to Do? (Season 6)

Chapter Eight: The Heart Wants What It Wants

Once I told Allie and Hugo about my resignation from the firm, the chaos of having to constantly run from one job to another was officially off my shoulders. As January continued, I was pleased to have a sense of normalcy in my day to day life, and although I had to accept that I wasn't making as much when I worked at the firm, it was totally worth it. I found it easier to deal with annoying customers than the opposing side of a case, because, with annoying customers, I could easily tell them to leave Patsy's and never come back.

It was amazing to me that, on the final Wednesday of the month, that Fionn and Clayton would turn one year old. I remembered going into labor with them, holding tightly to Ian's hand, and delivering them on the kitchen table. As I sat in my office at the diner, just a week before their birthday, I smiled to myself, remembering how worried I'd been that Nicholas could possibly miss the birth of his sons. Thankfully, my husband had come through, and had arrived just before the two of them had entered the world.

I lowered my eyes then as my phone rang, and smiled as I caught a glance of Ian's number on the incoming call screen. Immediately, I accepted the call, positioning the phone onto my ear and feeling my lips automatically moving into a smile. "Hey," I said, the positivity radiating through to him. "I was just thinking about you."

"Really? Your twin isn't constantly on your mind?" he joked.

"Ha, ha, ha," I said sarcastically, leaning back in my chair for a moment before getting to my feet to stretch my legs. "State your business. I'm very busy and important," I said, recalling saying something similar, back when I worked at the firm.

"You own a popular diner, so I'd say that statement is accurate," Ian said. "Now, my purpose for calling is Fionn and Clayton's birthday next week."

"Oh, how lovely," I replied, standing on my toes and looking out the window; we'd had some trouble with thugs coming by and lifting the spoiled food from the dumpsters, and I was fully prepared to haul ass out there with a baseball bat and tell them that I meant business. "What is there to discuss?" I asked.

"Stop thinking about the thugs for a minute, please," Ian said patiently, and I immediately lowered my heels back down onto the ground of my office. "That's better."

I rolled my eyes. "You know, you're lucky you're my brother, and that I'm on some really good medication, because if I wasn't, I'd fucking hunt you down and blame my paranoia for going fucking ape shit on your ass, Ian Gallagher..."

"You can't deny that you love me," Ian replied in a sing-song voice.

"I can't deny that you're stalkerish behavior is going to make me call Lip to ask him if we can go to a meeting," I muttered.

"When's the last time you went?"

"I went three times last week; last time was on Friday after work," I admitted, my voice quiet as I rolled my shoulders as I leaned up against the wall. "This work is pretty stressful. Don't get me wrong, because I fucking love it, but I've never had to run a restaurant before..."

"Sierra still giving you a hard time?"

I scoffed. "She just doesn't fully understand what went on between me and Lip," I said quietly. "I mean, one minute Lip tells her to give her ex a chance, and that he wasn't ready for a relationship because of AA, and then I move to town and pretty much swoop in and Lip and I get all hot and heavy immediately after we meet..."

"She understands that it wasn't right, doesn't she?" he asks. "I mean, please tell me you gave her the Genetic Sexual Attraction lecture..."

I sighed. "I'm not a Wikipedia database for information, Ian. Besides, she hasn't asked me about it directly. I mean, she takes the orders I give her when they're due, but with this passive aggressive attitude. I just wish we could come to an understanding, because we're both mothers here, and I certainly have no designs on Lip. I am kinda married..."