Georgie on His Mind

By: 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"