The Last Thing He Needs (13 page)

Bobby didn’t pull back. Colleen trudged down the stairs with Zoe in her arms and the rest of the kids in tow. Bobby tossed her the keys to his car and then looked at Tommy again. “There comes a point, Tom, where martyrdom for its own sake is ill-advised.” He did step back then, but only to take Max from Carrie as they made it to the bottom of the stairs. With the baby calming down, Bobby looked at Tommy again. “When you’re ready to un-nail yourself from that cross you carry around, let me know.”

I
T
TOOK
Tommy less than a minute to pull himself together and realize the noise in the kitchen had stopped. He needed to talk to Bobby, probably apologize for what he’d said, but as usual, there wasn’t time for any of that. There was never time for anything he needed or wanted, and this day, as shitty as it was, had been good for one thing. It illustrated for Bobby exactly what Tommy meant when he said he couldn’t. He couldn’t run off with Bobby for a night. He couldn’t take his eyes off his family for one second. And he couldn’t give in and let someone else take care of things even for one hour. He’d tried that, hadn’t he? And look at the ruin waiting for him when he got home. “Martyr, my ass,” he muttered as he kicked the kitchen door open.

Cheryl sat in the middle of the floor covered in red sauce, looking like she’d worn herself out. He’d seen the same thing happen with the twins when they were overtired and fighting sleep and kicking up a fit. Eventually they wound down on their own because their little bodies could only take it for so long. He didn’t like thinking of Cheryl in the same light, so he tried to push the idea away.

He watched where he stepped as he walked into the kitchen. “Where’s Pop?” Food and broken glass were scattered all over the floor. It would take hours to clean up, and Christ only knew how he was going to replace the food he couldn’t salvage.

“Huh?” Cheryl looked confused, blinking up at Tommy like she didn’t know he was there. “Oh, he’s in the can.”

Tommy nodded and stepped farther away from her and the mess. He went back out the door and up the stairs to the bathroom. Cal had passed out on the tile floor, using the bathmat as a blanket. At least he was out of the way.

Going back into the kitchen, Tommy found Cheryl in the same spot. She was sitting up, but she looked like a ragdoll, limp and slumped over. She was crying, and Tommy tried not to care.

“Ya know”
—
Cheryl wiped her hair back off her face, smearing sauce with it
—
“I was pretty once, Tommy.” She let out a broken little laugh through her tears.

Tommy was trying to figure out if she had a point or if she was too high or too drunk and couldn’t stop herself from rambling. In the end, he decided it didn’t matter.

“A real looker. Back in high school, I was the prettiest thing you ever saw.”

Tilting his head and trying to picture it, Tommy was surprised when he could almost see it. Her skin was pockmarked and wrinkled from too much sun and too much booze and probably from all the meth and heroin. Her hair was so bleached it looked like straw, dark roots showing, and she only had about half her teeth, but he could imagine it. Cheryl back before the life she lived had eaten away at her, before she was covered in track marks, before she was wrecked. Tommy could imagine it. He almost asked her what had happened, but he already knew.

He was starting to clean up the mess on the table and the countertops when Cheryl spoke again. This time it sounded as if she’d forgotten he was there.

“One of the cutest boys asked me out. God, he was so handsome. And his folks were rich. He asked me to the movies, and then after our date, he took me out to the beach and we went for a long walk by the railroad tracks.”

Tommy stopped cold and turned to look at her again. He knew where this was going, and he didn’t want to hear it, but he couldn’t tell her to shut up either.

Cheryl’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. “There were four of them. His friends. He must have planned it. I had a reputation, ya see. I never gave it up for anyone. I was savin’ it, ya know? For someone special, maybe even till I got married.” She looked up at Tommy then, laughing again, snot running down her face. “Stupid, huh? People don’t do that anymore, do they?” He didn’t know what to say, so he just stood there. “They told me I was a prick-tease and I had it coming. They left me there after they were done. I was freezing. They ripped my dress up. That was all I could think, ya know? My pretty dress was ruined, and I knew my mother was gonna lay into me for it.”

Part of him had never hated Cheryl more. He couldn’t believe she’d found a way to make him want to take care of her and help her. Jesus. All he could think about was Colleen and those three guys that afternoon. What if it had gone down differently? What if she hadn’t been holding a baseball bat and they hadn’t been too stupid to live? What if—

“The police found me the next day.” Cheryl broke his train of thought with another wounded laugh. “My father told me I probably asked for it, and my
mother
didn’t want to press charges because
she
was too embarrassed.” More tears spilled down her face, making clear streaks in the mess on her cheeks as she sighed. “After that I never said no again. They’re gonna take what they want anyway, right? Might as well get something for it.”

Frozen. Tommy felt frozen all the way down to his blood. He didn’t know what to say to her. It wasn’t a new story. A girl gets raped or abused and tries to numb the pain with booze and drugs, and then her life slides down a rabbit hole there’s no coming out of. It happened all the time. Every day, if he had to guess. It could have happened to Colleen after that guy in foster care. Hell, it could still happen to her. Or Carrie. Or Zoe. Any of them, really. But what was getting to Tommy in that moment, what was holding him there like he was a statue, was his own mother. He’d never wondered about what started her on the drinking and the dope. It was simply part of who she was, part of who his father was too. He always figured it was predetermined genetic coding, that it hit them like a key turning in a lock. They tried it, they liked it, and then they couldn’t stop. For the first time in his life, though, he was wondering what his mother’s real story was. Too bad she couldn’t tell him.

In some strange way, Tommy was glad Cheryl had told him. He was glad she wasn’t going to take that to her grave. Eventually some guy would cut her throat on the side of the road, or she would OD, or… something. But at least now, he could look at her and know what happened and why. He had to remind himself that it didn’t excuse her from anything. A dog that’s been beaten and abused and bites everyone who crosses its path is still a danger to society. Cheryl was the same way. He could let himself pity her, though.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” Finally able to move, he stepped over to her. “Hot shower will make things better.”

“Yeah.” She took his hand when he offered it. When he had her up on her feet, supporting her with an arm around her waist, Cheryl asked, “What’d you do with my stash, Tommy?”

“I think you used it up, Cher.”

“Maybe. Maybe I should lay off for a while anyway.”

He knew that wouldn’t last. Detox hadn’t set in yet. When it did, when she couldn’t see straight from the pain and she couldn’t do anything but puke and shit and cry, she’d change her mind. He couldn’t really blame her. He didn’t know if he’d be able to stand it either. “After we get ya clean, you want me to take you down to the hospital? See if they got a bed in rehab?” He had nothing better to offer her.

She looked at him and smiled her jagged, brown-toothed, grin. They were standing in the doorway to the bathroom, trying not to trip over his father. “Nah, that’s all right, Tommy. I can do it on my own. I don’t need any help from anyone.”

Her words washed over him like ice water.

I
T
TOOK
nearly two hours to get the kitchen in order again. Tommy had put Cheryl to bed after her shower and then dragged his father into their room.
What a fucking day.
He was working on the living room when the phone rang. It was Colleen. She let him know where they were and asked if he was going to join them. He told her he had to finish cleaning up and keep an eye on Cheryl and Cal. She understood but sounded disappointed.

“How’s the kids?” He wasn’t really worried about them, but he was used to checking on them.

Colleen laughed. “They’re fine. I don’t think Bobby knew how much they could eat. Davey and Mike put away six chili dogs between them.”

“That’ll teach him.” Tommy laughed softly as he continued to pick things up around the room. “How, uh, how’s Bobby doing? He looked a little rattled when you guys left.”

“You mean is he still pissed at you?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Probably, but he’s not letting on to the kids. When he caught Davey getting free games from the pinball machine, he stood him in the corner and told him he should’ve just asked for some quarters. When Davey told him he didn’t beg for money or ask anyone for anything, God, you should’ve seen Bobby’s face.” Colleen was giggling as she told him the story. “He stood there in front of Davey so he couldn’t get away, arms crossed, all cop-like, saying, ‘I keep forgetting it would kill you guys to ask for anything. I’m not gonna die in the line of duty. No. It’s gonna be O’Shea stubbornness that does me in.’” Colleen paused for another laugh before she added, “Then he goes: ‘I swear to God, if I can get just
one
of you to ask for a hand just
once
, it’ll be a righteous death.’ I about wet myself laughing. I told him we’d personally petition for his sainthood.”

Given the way they’d left things, Tommy shouldn’t have laughed, but he did. “Tell him Carrie can design his medal.”

“I’m sure she’d jump at the chance.” He could hear Colleen’s smile in her tone on the other end of the line. “You want us to bring anything home for ya?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Cheryl’s words about not needing help and Bobby’s comment about him never asking for anything ran through his head and forced him to reconsider. “Ya know, on second thought, I just got the kitchen clean, and I don’t wanna make another mess in there. Could you grab me a burger and some fries?”

Colleen was so quiet, he wondered if her call had dropped until she said, “Sure, Tommy.”

After they got off the phone, Tommy went back to work.

B
Y
THE
time the kids were coming in, the house was almost put back together. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t look like a war zone at least.

Colleen carried Max, and Mike had Zoe in his arms. Davey passed Tommy a greasy bag and a cup with what appeared to be a butterscotch shake in it. Collin and Carrie filed in behind them, but not Bobby.

“They still here?” Colleen looked around the quiet house.

“Upstairs. They’re sleeping off whatever they were on. My bet is they’ll be gone before noon.” Tommy glanced out the window. Bobby was leaning against his car, his arms crossed over his chest like they had been several times that day. “You got this for a few? I need to talk to Bobby.”

Colleen gave him a half smile. “Better run. I don’t think he’s gonna wait long for you.”

Tommy was barefoot as he started down the steps. Bobby had parked in front of the house. He seemed surprised to see Tommy, and that hurt on some level Tommy couldn’t look at.

His first urge was to lean in and kiss Bobby, right there, in front of all the neighbors. But he decided against it, mostly because he wasn’t sure if Bobby would take a swing at him for it. He still looked pissed.

Tommy leaned in, putting one hand by Bobby on the side of the car, not quite trapping him there, but hoping to keep him in place long enough to say what he needed to say.

“Look.” Tommy glanced down at the ground before meeting Bobby’s eye and going on. “I’m gonna say two words to you that I’ve only ever said to the kids, okay?”

“Okay.” Bobby was stoic, but he listened.

“I’m sorry.”

Not the easiest thing he’d ever done, but not as bad as he’d thought it would be.

Bobby didn’t look impressed, though. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, you’re sorry.”

Narrowing his eyes, Tommy huffed out a breath and shook his head. “Jesus. You don’t even try to make it easy on a guy.”

“And
you
do?”

Tommy considered that. “Fair point.”

That got a small laugh out of both of them and the pressure between them eased.

“I’m not saying I’m the easiest person to deal with, and I’m not saying I’m just gonna roll over and let you take over, but….”

This was the part that would hurt to say out loud and even Bobby seemed to know it. He reached a hand for Tommy and brushed his fingers against Tommy’s chest. A simple touch, unobtrusive, and hopefully hard to see by anyone watching.

“You were right. I don’t ask for help and I don’t like it and I don’t… respond well when it’s offered.” He got a snorted laugh for that, but Tommy continued. “I’m a mess, my family is a mess, my
life
is a mess, and if I weren’t a selfish bastard, I’d tell you to run. I’d tell you to forget we ever knew each other, but Jesus, I don’t wanna do that. I’m not easy, and I’m a pain in the ass, but if you’re willing to stick around, I’m willing to try, and I’m willing to trust you, and I’m willing to—”