The Last Thing He Needs (19 page)

BOOK: The Last Thing He Needs
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Never in his life had he been so thankful he’d bothered to clean the house right after breakfast.

“I thought you might want to go pick him up,” she added as they set the dishes down on the kitchen counter.

“And you figured he’d be really hungry?”

Judy laughed at that. “No,” she said, going over to the fridge like she lived there. She was putting things away and talking over her shoulder to Tommy. “When I don’t know what to do with myself, I cook. When I can’t cook anymore, I bring the food to someone who will take pity on me and feel obligated to chat for a while.”

Tommy tried to let it go. He tried to tell himself she was restless and this wasn’t going to become A Thing She Did. But he also figured he should set some boundaries down early on. “Listen, Mrs. McA—”

“Judy,” she corrected him kindly.

“Judy.” Tommy chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to get some control before going on. “This was really nice and all, but we’re good here. We don’t need any—”

“Who said anything about need?” she asked with a vague wave of her hand, as if she could dismiss his words with the gesture. “No one
needs
chocolate fudge cake, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be shared when one is made.”

Tommy was still trying to find his footing. “Right, but…. This is too much, ya know? We’re covered and all, and….”

He had to stop talking when Judy turned to face him. Her brow was furrowed and her hands were on her hips. She looked like she was ready to stand him in the corner. “I’m sorry, Tommy, but are you trying to argue with me?”

He suddenly felt like he was six years old, which seemed oddly appropriate given the fact she was a first-grade teacher. “No, ma’am.”

Judy smiled brightly then and patted him on the cheek. “Good,” she said as she turned toward the door that led back to the living room. He followed her. “Bobby said you could be—” She made another gesture with her hand over her shoulder. “—
difficult
sometimes about these things.”

Tommy felt like he was being swept up in a tornado. He had lost all control of the situation and his home. He was going to kick Bobby’s ass as soon he was out of the hospital. “What things?”

“People being
nice
to you.” She whispered the word “nice” like it was dirty as she sat down on the living room floor near Max.

Zoe took after Tommy when it came to strangers. She made a beeline for his leg and started to climb up. She had no interest whatsoever in getting to know new people who waltzed into the house. Even people who came loaded down with food that—Tommy had to admit, if only to himself—smelled amazing.

As he picked Zoe up and let her hide her face against his shoulder, he noticed Max had no such issues. The little turncoat could be bought out with a slice of cake and wouldn’t give it a second thought. He was already climbing into Judy’s lap and trying to grab at her necklace.

“Oh goodness, you’re a sweet one, aren’t you?” Judy was talking to Max. She used the same tone women around the world used when confronted with a baby who liked to flirt. She looked up at Tommy and asked, “They’re about a year, aren’t they?”

Tommy tried to bury his annoyance and nodded his head. “Last month.”

Judy turned her attention back to Max. “You like that?” she asked him as he picked at her necklace. “Look,” she said softly, taking it gently from his hands. “It opens,” she explained as she undid the clasp and pulled the locket open.

When Max made a happy sound and said, “Babo!” Judy laughed.

Tommy got curious then, knowing what Max and Zoe called Bobby.

Judy smiled at Max and ran a hand through his mess of curls. “That’s right. You’re such a smart boy.” She pointed a thin, well-manicured fingertip to one side of the frame and said, “That’s Bobby when he was about your age.” Then she pointed to the other side of the frame and said, “And that’s him all grown up.”

Tommy found himself sitting next to Judy. He wanted to see Bobby’s baby picture just as badly as Max did. “Please tell me he’s naked on a bearskin rug,” he joked, thinking Judy seemed like the kind of mother who would take great joy in mortifying her only son.

“That one is on the mantel,” she told Tommy with a laugh before she turned the locket so Tommy could see.

There was Bobby in his dress blues, probably right out of academy. The other picture was of Bobby when he was a baby. One tooth showed in the photo, his chin glossy from drool. He was wearing a little sailor suit.

“So he’s always looked good in a uniform,” Tommy joked.

He realized a second too late the comment might have been inappropriate, but Judy laughed again. “Most men do, dear.”

Zoe had decided to give Judy a try. She must have figured anyone cool enough to carry around a picture of Bobby was worth the time of day. She climbed out of Tommy’s lap and reached for Judy.

“They’re cuter than kittens,” Judy said, grinning at Zoe and showing her Bobby’s pictures.

Tommy had to agree, but he said, “Don’t let ’em fool ya. These two are hellions when they wanna be. Couldn’t get them to sleep at the same time for the first three months. It about killed me.”

“Oh, I can imagine.” Judy bounced Zoe on her lap as Max tried to squirm his way between her and Tommy. “When I was working my way through college, I spent a summer or two working in a daycare center.” She looked like she was remembering it, all those years ago. “I had to quit after a while. I was afraid I’d never want children of my own.”

With a laugh, Tommy agreed. “Yeah, that’d do it.” He leaned down and kissed the top of Max’s head, smelled his hair with a sigh.

“Do you want more? One of your own?” Judy asked.

Tommy was impressed with how easily she slid from useless small talk to potential son-in-law grilling.

“Seven ain’t enough?” he asked, thinking he needed to get out of the room fast.

“Don’t say ‘ain’t’, dear. It isn’t a real word.”

Tommy glanced at the clock on the wall and wondered if Bobby would be released soon. It was time for his bloodletting. “Well, seven is enough for me,” he said, letting out a breath and leaning back against the foot of the couch. “If I can get all of them outta school, settled into real jobs, and in their own homes, I can die happy. I don’t need another one to look after when that’s all through.”

“And you started from scratch with these two, didn’t you?” Judy asked, sounding curious.

“Pretty much.” Tommy didn’t know where all this was going, but he gave up on getting out of it. “I’ve been it for the other kids since our mother died. Probably before that, really. Max and Zoe since day one. Cheryl’s not exactly….” He couldn’t go into all the things Cheryl was and wasn’t.

Judy smiled at him. “I suppose seven is enough, then.” He thought she was finally dropping the subject, but she added, “You’re a better father than most men ten years older than you.”

Tommy let a disbelieving laugh slip out. “Ask them in fifteen years what a bang-up job I did.”

Zoe rested her head on Judy’s shoulder. “No one will have to ask them, I’m sure.” She rocked Zoe in her arms.

Max had curled himself around Tommy and yawned. That was his cue.

“I think it’s nap time,” he told her as he got to his feet.

“I think you’re right.” Judy had a harder time getting off the floor with Zoe in her arms, but she managed. She passed the baby to Tommy and sat down on the couch. “I’ll just wait here while you get them settled.”

Tommy fought the urge to roll his eyes as he carried the twins upstairs.

 

 

T
OMMY
TOOK
his time getting Max and Zoe to bed. He secretly hoped Judy might get bored and leave. Then he realized she would probably clean the kitchen or put on a load of laundry instead. That’s what Bobby would do if he thought he could get away with it. Judy didn’t seem like she would care if Tommy groused around the house and told her to knock it off.

She was sitting on the couch doing something with her phone when he got back to the living room. “Bobby texted a minute ago,” she said. “He should be ready to leave in an hour or so. He’s just waiting on the doctor to sign his release forms.”

“Thank Christ,” Tommy said, running his hand through his hair as he tried to think of a polite way to say “guess you should be going now!”

“Why don’t you go on down there and pick him up?” Judy prompted.

Tommy was going to have to take a crash course in how to deal with people who liked to kill with kindness.

“I can’t,” he said as he sat down on the arm of the couch. “Colleen’s got the car and, ya know, wouldn’t wanna wake the babies anyway.”

“Nonsense,” she said, smiling up at him. “I’ll stay here with the angels. They’ll probably sleep the whole time you’re gone. You can go get Bobby, take him home and get him settled, and then come back here with my car.”

She said it like it was the most obvious solution in the world. Like people always left their defenseless babies with people they barely knew and went to run errands. It occurred to Tommy after a second that people usually
did
do that. He reminded himself that his boyfriend’s mother, who also happened to be a retired schoolteacher and daycare worker, was probably more qualified to look after Max and Zoe than he was. He wanted to kick something.

“Yeah, all right,” he growled. He was tempted to shake his fist and shove her out the door. It was a near thing. But Judy laughed at his reaction and passed him a set of car keys.

“It’s the PT parked out front.”

Of course it is
. Tommy grabbed his wallet from the table by the door and said, “I won’t be long.”

“Take your time, dear. Make sure Bobby is settled before you come back.”

Tommy stalked out the door, muttering, “Don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.”

 

 

“Y
OUR
MOTHER
is insane,” Tommy said as soon as he saw Bobby. It had taken him about five minutes to figure out how to start the damn car, and then it took him twice as long as it should have to drive to the hospital. He was scared he’d wreck it on the way.

Bobby was startled when Tommy stormed into his room. “What’d she do?”

“She showed up at the house! She had enough food to feed an army, then she railroaded me out the door to come get you. She’s got Max and Zoe hostage.”

Tommy could tell Bobby was doing his damnedest not to laugh.

“The
bitch
,” Bobby said sarcastically. “The
nerve
of the woman. Going in and bringing cake—there was cake, right?” When Tommy nodded, Bobby went on. “That is some messed-up devil-woman shit. Thinking she can slide in under your radar like that! That’s right out of Grimm’s
Fairy Tales
. Maybe she’ll try to cook
them
next!”

Bobby let himself laugh then. He held his left arm like it was killing him, but he couldn’t stop laughing at Tommy.

“All right, shut it, asshole.” Tommy flopped down into the chair by Bobby’s hospital bed. He leaned in and kissed Bobby, despite the fact that Bobby was still laughing at him.

After Bobby caught his breath, he asked, “Did you try just telling her no?”

“Have you met the woman?”

Bobby considered the question and looked like he agreed, but he said, “She’s not totally unreasonable, Tom.”

“What, are you kidding me? She’s
you
. Only it’s impossible to argue with someone that’s that nice and little and old and a woman. Especially one that’s so goddamned obsessively determined. It’s like someone threw Pollyanna, Mary Sunshine, and Mussolini into a blender and it spit your mother out.”

“You forgot Mother Teresa.”

“Yeah, her too. Thank God we don’t have leprosy.”

Bobby laughed again at that, but he reached a hand out for Tommy. “She just needs to take care of everyone. You should let her, she’s good at it.”

Tommy leaned in then, smiling begrudgingly as he said, “At least now I know where ya get it.”

Before Tommy had a chance to kiss him again, there was a small knock on the door. He pulled back as a nurse came in with a few papers. “Looks like you’re getting out of here today, Officer McAlister.”

“Please tell me those are my release forms,” Bobby asked hopefully as he sat up farther in the bed.

The nurse gave him a smile and then a fake pout. “You didn’t like visiting with us?”

Bobby tried to return the smile, but Tommy could tell it was forced. “You’ve all been great, thanks, but between the catheter yesterday and the peep-show nightgown, I’m ready to go home.”

She was already working on his IV, pulling it out carefully and putting a small bandage over the back of his hand. “I guess I can’t blame you,” she said with another smile.

It sounded like a rehearsed conversation, and Tommy figured she probably had similar banter several times a day with different people.

She cut the hospital bracelet off his wrist and taped it to the forms. “I’m going to leave this here with your paperwork. If you need to come back for any reason at all, try to bring this with you.”

Bobby nodded, but Tommy guessed if they needed to bring him back in for anything, Bobby might lose his temper and start his own shooting spree.

“Here’s your information about wound care at home and what to look for, signs of infection and such. You need to follow up with your regular doctor in three days.” She pointed at the page. Bobby glanced at it and nodded his head again. “And”—she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small brown paper bag and set it on the table by his bed—“these are your pain meds. You have one refill, but you probably won’t need anything stronger than ibuprofen after the first week.”

“Got it,” Bobby said, trying to get up. She had him sign and initial more papers and then turned to leave. “Is that it? I can go now?”

“You can get dressed now. I’ll be back in a few minutes to wheel you down to the parking lot,” she told him cheerfully.

“I got shot in the
arm
. I’m pretty sure I can make it down to the garage.”

The nurse tossed her blonde hair off her shoulder and laughed. “Hospital policy. Think of it this way: if you tripped and hit your head on your way to the car, we’d have to keep you another day.”

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