The Last Thing He Needs (18 page)

Judy patted Tommy’s shoulder as she walked past him before leaving them alone.

“She’s pretty perceptive,” Tommy said as he walked around the bed to Bobby’s other side. He pulled up a chair and drew it close.

Bobby laughed at that. “Yeah, she is. How close to the truth was she? Were you looking for someone to take hostage so you could get some answers?”

Tommy carefully took Bobby’s hand in his own, mindful of the IV, and did something so tender it embarrassed him. He kissed each knuckle and then pressed Bobby’s fingers against his cheek. “Pretty much.”

Bobby turned his hand against Tommy’s face, as if trying to soothe Tommy. The guy with the bullet hole was trying to make Tommy feel better. It was ridiculous. Tommy lifted his eyes to meet Bobby’s. “We saw it all on the news. Scared the hell outta me and the kids.”

“I know,” Bobby whispered. “I called the house as soon as they got me settled in here. Colleen told me where you were. I talked to everyone and told them to go to bed because they couldn’t use my funeral as an excuse to skip school tomorrow.”

When Tommy glared at him, Bobby asked in mock innocence, “Too soon?”

“It’ll never
not
be too soon for a joke like that, asshole.”

Bobby laughed again, and it sounded dry and hoarse. “I guess I really am gonna be okay if you’re already calling me names.”

Tommy stood up and reached over him. He grabbed the little pitcher full of ice water and poured some into a cup. “Drink,” he said. “You sound like shit.”

Bobby didn’t argue. He took a long sip from the flexible straw and then sighed as he let his head fall back against the pillows. “They had to tube me for the surgery. My throat feels like I swallowed glass.”

“That’s what ya get when you let yourself get shot.”

Tommy sat down again and grabbed the same hand he’d been holding. This time he laced their fingers together. “Aren’t they giving you anything for the pain?”

“It’s wearing off now, and I haven’t hit the little button they gave me on my drip.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, thinking he deserved the pain if he was too stupid to keep the meds coming in.

Bobby explained, “It’s Demerol, knocks me out, and I wanted to be awake when you got in here.”

Those words more than anything else that night made Tommy’s heart skip a beat. Bobby getting shot had turned his world upside down. Meeting Bobby’s mother put things into a perspective for Tommy that he hadn’t wanted to see. Finding out the first thing Bobby did when he was out of surgery was call the house to tell him he was okay, that he talked to all of the kids to make sure they knew it, had meant more to Tommy than he’d like to admit. But that? Sitting there, uncomfortable, in pain, drifting in and out of restless sleep and waiting to see Tommy after being shot? That was enough to knock him on his ass permanently.

Tommy let go of Bobby’s hand and reached over him. He found the button hooked up to the IV and hit it once. Then he leaned in close and looked deep into Bobby’s eyes. His voice broke on a tremor as he spoke, and he didn’t care how weak or how vulnerable, how stupid it made him sound. He took Bobby’s face in his hands and said, “I love you, you stupid son of bitch.”

He didn’t give Bobby a chance to respond. Instead, he took Bobby’s mouth in a hard, fierce kiss that felt like it would never end.

When he pulled back, Bobby’s eyes were glassy and he didn’t look like he could speak. Tommy sat down again, and Bobby trailed a fingertip against Tommy’s cheek. It came away wet. Tommy hadn’t even realized there were tears on his face, hadn’t let himself acknowledge it.

“Shit,” Bobby said, sounding stoned and tired. “I think I’m hallucinating.”

His eyes fell shut, and Tommy laughed.

B
Y
THE
time Tommy got home, the sun was already up. He found Colleen in the kitchen putting on a pot of coffee. She looked like a little kid playing house as she shuffled around in a ratty robe and a pair of torn-up slippers.

“How’s Bobby?” she asked as she started making sandwiches and stuffing them in paper sacks. The kids would probably get free lunches at school, since Cheryl had finally turned in the paperwork for food stamps, but they were always careful the first day of the year, not wanting the kids to go hungry if there was a mix-up.

“Sound asleep when I left him.” Tommy grabbed two coffee mugs down from the cupboard and waited impatiently for the pot to brew.

“Any news on Sanders?”

Bobby’s partner was important to him, so by extension, he was important to the rest of the family. Tommy nodded to her as he watched the coffee drip into the pot. “He’s outta the woods, but they wanna keep him a few more days.”

“I bet Bobby is relieved.” Colleen looked at Tommy, and her expression said she was pretty relieved too. “You should probably get some rest before we gotta leave for school.”

He knew Colleen was right, but he didn’t think he could sleep much at that point. He kept playing every detail from the last eleven hours back in his head. What a rollercoaster. “I got a little nap in the chair there. Nurse kicked me out when she came in to check on Bobby.”

Colleen moved quickly, just as she always did. She got the lunches squared away and then started to pull things out for breakfast. Nothing fancy—toast and eggs—but she worked with a quiet resolve. She worked like she knew this was all her life was ever going to be.

“Lemme do that,” Tommy told her. The idea of her slaving away for the rest of her life made him sick. “Drink some coffee and put your feet up for a few minutes. Jesus!”

She looked like she might argue with him, but she didn’t. Instead she poured a cup for herself and one for Tommy. She set his next to the stove and took her own to the kitchen table. “Wyatt called last night,” she said quietly.

“Yeah? Did you talk to him this time?”

She took a long sip before answering. “Yeah.” Her brow furrowed as she went on. “His parents had called him, and he saw the shooting on the news. He wanted to ask if Bobby had been hurt and make sure everyone was okay.”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “Sounds like an excuse to talk to ya if you ask me.”

Colleen nodded and laughed with him. “I figured as much, but with everything going on I couldn’t just ignore him, ya know?”

“Good.” Tommy was beating eggs in a large bowl. “Did you cut the poor guy some slack?”

“I tried to break up with him.” Tommy put the bowl down and looked at her hard before she went on. “He told me that it wasn’t a breakup if I didn’t have a good reason. So I told him that my reasons were the fact that we lived in different states and I had responsibilities here and would have for a long time and that he should get out and meet girls and find someone else.”

“And?” He remembered he had a task at hand and got the butter out of the refrigerator.

“And he told me those were bullshit reasons, and he disagreed.” She laughed before going on. “Then he said he would be home for Thanksgiving in a couple months, and I was going to see him and talk to him if he had to camp on our lawn and follow me to work.”

Tommy couldn’t help but laugh. “Only Wyatt could say that and not sound creepy.”

“I know, right?”

“You gonna give him a break?”

“I tried to.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at her. “He’s a big boy, Col. Let him decide for himself what he wants.” He couldn’t believe he was saying it, but Tommy went on. “Wyatt treats ya good, he puts up with our bullshit and takes all your… stuff in stride. He’s more understanding about all you’ve gone through than any kid his age has a right to be, ya know?”

Colleen let out a tired sigh. She looked defeated already. Not even eighteen yet, and she looked like the world had won and she was ready to tag herself out. “I know,” she said softly. “He’s just got so much going for him. He’s such a good guy, and he’s—”

She stopped talking when Tommy slammed a cupboard door so hard the dishes inside rattled. “You listen to me, Col.” Tommy pointed his finger at her and glared as he spoke. “You’re the best goddamn person I know. You’re smart, you’re quick, and you give a shit. You take care of your own. It makes your life one big pain in the ass, but it makes you a fucking saint, and anyone who doesn’t see what an amazing girl you are, anyone that doesn’t have room for the baggage you’ve been tied to, doesn’t fucking deserve to shine your shoes, let alone have you in their corner.”

Tommy was ready to hit someone just to make himself feel better. The idea of his sister sitting there and feeling like she wasn’t good enough for someone made his blood boil.

Colleen gave a little sniffle over her coffee mug and nodded her head. When she met his eye, she asked, “Do you ever even listen to yourself, Tommy?”

“All the time,” he told her, trying to joke. “I’m the only one that makes any goddamn sense around here.”

When she stood up, she came around the counter and got the orange juice out of the refrigerator. “You just don’t get it,” she said, grabbing a stack of plates and setting them on the table. “I could say all of that about you. I’m no better than you, Tommy. Hell, at least I had your example to follow.”

He didn’t know what to say at first. What she said was technically true. They were cut from the same cloth, and they both made similar sacrifices every day. “So I guess we’re both too good for the rest of the world,” he joked.

Colleen shook her head. “You’re an asshole.”

“So I’ve been told. I’m thinking about having it printed on a T-shirt.”

“Trust me,” Colleen laughed. “You don’t need it on a shirt. Most people can tell the first time you open your mouth.”

Tommy flipped her off and went back to making breakfast. He glanced up at her when she asked, “Do you ever tell Bobby you’re just gonna let him decide what he wants and what he can handle?”

“Not so far.” He was going to let the subject die there, but he blurted out, “I told him I loved him last night.” Tommy could feel his cheeks go hot as he said the words.

“Was he conscious?”

“Yes
.
”
Kind of.

Colleen came closer and put an arm around his shoulders. She kissed his cheek and said, “Good.”

As she pulled back, she added, “There just might be hope for you yet.”

T
OMMY
WAS
watching the twins play together, wishing it was time for their naps. Zoe pulled herself up on the coffee table, looking overly pleased with herself, and took a few wobbly steps before she plopped back down on the floor and decided to crawl toward him.

She and Max had both taken their first steps earlier in the week, less than an hour apart. Max had looked at Zoe in amazement and then decided to try it. Bobby was there for it. He was so proud of them both, anyone watching would’ve assumed he was their father. He took videos of it on his phone. Tommy realized they were probably the only ones in the entire family who had such a milestone recorded for posterity. Unless you counted Colleen’s prom photo, which was also Bobby’s doing. Or Tommy’s first mug shot from when he was twelve and had been caught stealing milk and cereal and a loaf of bread because the cupboards at home were empty. He’d learned to be more careful after that.

When Zoe reached for him, Tommy lifted her up onto his lap. “How’s our girl?” he asked as she patted his face.

He caught one of her tiny hands and kissed her palm. “You about ready for a nap?” He tickled her side and kissed her chubby cheek. “I am. I’m so ready for a nap, you wouldn’t believe, kiddo.”

She giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. Max looked like he wanted in on the cuddles, but as he started to scoot and stumble his way to the couch, there was a knock at the door.

Tommy remembered with regret that he and Bobby were supposed to have an afternoon date for about that time. Judy hadn’t called, and he hadn’t heard from Bobby, so he could only assume Bobby hadn’t been released yet. He carried Zoe in his arms as he went to the door. When he got it open, all he could see was half a person hidden behind a stack of casserole dishes and a cake carrier. He stared for a beat before saying, “Uh, I think you got the wrong house.”

Judy tilted her head to the side to see around the dishes she was carrying. “I never get the wrong house,” she told him cheerfully.

Tommy had about six responses all fighting for first place on the tip of his tongue. One of them was about not needing free food, and one of the others was about seeing where Bobby had gotten his do-gooder streak. He made a face and clamped his mouth shut on all his remarks.

“Set the baby down and give me a hand, would you?” she asked.

He could hear a smile in her tone, and Tommy was picturing what his life might have been like if he’d had her for a mother. He put Zoe down and started to unburden Judy.

Tommy led the way to the kitchen after he closed the door behind her. She carried a couple of long glass dishes in her arms, and he had three more just like it, along with, apparently, a cake.

“Bobby’s getting released this afternoon,” she explained as she trailed behind him.