Dreamspinner Press Year Eight Greatest Hits

by Brandon Witt

  “Shit we don’t need like diapers and formula and medicine and, oh, I don’t know, electricity and fucking food?” Tommy shouted through the house. The twins looked at him with wide eyes as he handed Zoe her cup and set their snack down on the coffee table.

  “Don’t yell! My head fucking hurts!” Cheryl screamed from the kitchen.

  “That makes two of us,” Tommy said quietly. He looked at Bobby and, for maybe the first time in his life, felt embarrassed by what he came from.

  Cheryl came back in then, glaring, her hands visibly shaking. “I should sell those two.” She nodded to the twins. “All they do is cry, shit, and cost money.”

  Tommy clenched his fists, tilting his head down like a bull about to charge as he took a step toward her. “If you ever even think about it, I’ll—” He didn’t get to finish his warning because Bobby cut him off.

  “That’s a crime,” he told her as he stepped between Tommy and Cheryl. He passed Max to Tommy as if he knew it was the only way to defuse the situation. “A serious one, hard time, federal pen. If anything ever happens to either of them now, you’ll be the first person we arrest, Mrs. O’Shea.” He added the last with a small snarl Tommy wouldn’t have thought him capable of. He didn’t sound mild mannered or kind now. He sounded angry, like he wished he could knock her out. Tommy had to like him a little for that too.

  Cheryl let that sink in. She looked like she was crossing plan B off her mental list. “I just need a goddamn drink!”

  Tommy knew booze was her second drug of choice. She used it to help her come down from anything else she’d taken.

  With a sigh, Bobby reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He removed a twenty and passed it over to Cheryl. “You and Cal go knock yourselves out. On me.”

  Tommy rolled his eyes so hard it actually hurt, but he didn’t say anything until Cheryl had wrapped her arms around Bobby’s neck to thank him, her demeanor changing instantly. “You are such a gentleman,” she told him, trying to catch his mouth with a kiss even as Bobby quickly unwound her and backed up. “I’m good for it, promise.”

  “Only if you’re not afraid of getting the clap,” Tommy stage-whispered, setting Max down next to Zoe before he started picking up toys and clothes and books from around the room.

  For one instant, Cheryl looked hurt. “Fuck you, Tommy.”

  “I’ll pass,” he said flatly, glancing over his shoulder as Cheryl went to rouse Cal. As soon as there was promise of a bottle from the corner liquor store, Cal was on his feet, staggering, but up. “Take that can out with you and hose it out. Whole place smells like… well, smells like you. Jesus.”

  Cal’s dark brown hair was greasy and streaked with silver, his skin wrinkled and dirty, and his green eyes rimmed in red. He hated to admit it, but Tommy knew what he could look like twenty or thirty years down the road if he didn’t take care of himself. Cal blinked at his oldest child, then down at the trashcan at his feet. “Oh, right. Good thinking, Son,” he said, running his hands down his front, checking for vomit or trying to smooth the wrinkles out, Tommy didn’t know.

  “Right, Pop.”

  “How’s the little ones?” Cal asked, and Bobby looked so shocked Tommy thought he might fall over.

  “Better, thanks for askin’.”

  Cal patted Zoe on the top of her head as he passed her. “Right, well…. Guess we’re off.”

  “Good riddance,” Tommy muttered darkly as Cal picked up the can and Cheryl tugged him out the door. It only took him another minute to finish cleaning up and when he was done, Bobby had settled comfortably on the couch. He was watching the twins munch on their food and play with their toys.

  “I get why ya helped us out last night, but… that? Giving them money so they can go out and do it all over again? Isn’t there a word for that?”

  “Enabling.” Bobby stretched his legs out, knees spread slightly. Tommy had to look away.

  “No, I think it’s called stupidity.”

  Bobby laughed, then shook his head. “Did you really want that doing DT in here all day? Besides, it was your twenty.”

  “Fair point.”

  “Should keep them busy for a while, at least.”

  Tommy shook his head. “Half hour, tops. But they’ll thumb a ride out to the truck stop so Cheryl can earn some money, and they’ll have plenty to do after that.”

  “God, Tom,” Bobby started softly, not a trace of pity in his voice, just a subtle look of sadness echoing around his eyes. “Does she ever bring johns home?”

  Tommy could feel himself tense, his jaw clenching, but he found something weirdly relaxing in the idea of unloading all this on someone. “Am I telling Officer McAlister, or….”

  “A friend, just… a friend. Off the record.”

  “Okay, friend….” Tommy laughed softly, teasing, but he was starting to like the idea of it, starting to wonder why they never hung out in high school. Bobby was a couple of years older than him, but he had friends in Bobby’s year. “Sometimes, yeah. Not often, but… it’s happened.”

  “That’s not good, shit.”

  “That’s news? I know it ain’t good.”

  “That bang-up out here a few months back, that guy you were fighting with…?”

  “Yeah, Cheryl brought him home. Guess the guy didn’t wanna pay for a no-tell motel, and he started sniffing around Colleen, wouldn’t let up, so I had to put him in his place.”

  Bobby’s laugh was slightly sardonic. “You broke his jaw with a crowbar.”

  “Well, you try to turn my sister into a whore, and apparently your place is on the floor in a small puddle of your own blood.” Tommy laughed, but he wasn’t joking.

  “Fair enough.” Bobby nodded his head as though he secretly agreed. “Why not just report it?”

  “And have CPS crawling up my ass? You seen them, the way they are, there’s no way in hell I’d keep the kids.” They both knew he couldn’t petition for custody as things were, and Bobby didn’t even ask. “Just got a few more years like this. I got it all planned, ya know? Colleen can finish school, maybe get a good job when she gets out, Mikey same thing. Then the three of us, we’ll have enough money and good-enough jobs, and maybe then we can get the kids. Three adults looking after the other five.”

  “Might work.” Bobby sounded tired and frustrated. “Lot of shit to go through till then, though.”

  Tommy tensed again. “Well, they’re worth it.”

  “I meant for them. Colleen is, what? Sixteen?”

  “Seventeen the other day.” Tommy didn’t like where the conversation was headed.

  “Okay, seventeen.” Bobby nodded. “When’s the last time she had a date or went to a school dance or a party? Or Mikey? And Davey likes stealing shit, you can see it in him already, he’s an adrenaline junkie. Carrie acts like a little mother for the other three, all the time wishing she had one of her own….”

  Tommy’s hackles were rising, partly because what Bobby said was true. “You ask them. Ask Colleen or Mikey if they’d rather be out partying and getting laid or going to a movie with friends. Ask them if they’d have a good time doing that shit if they knew their little sisters and brothers were in a state home or being left to Cal and Cheryl. Ask them yourself, ’cause I already know the answer.”

  “I know the answer too, Tom. I’m just saying there has to be another way.”

  “Well, from where I sit, it’s this or foster care. When you come up with door number three, you let me know.”

  “Foster care isn’t always—”

  “If you wanna be my friend, you better stop right there.” Tommy sat up taller and edged closer to the twins. “You know what happened when we went to foster care, genius?” Bobby shook his head, looking abashed as Tommy went on. “Mike and Davey were treated like fucking slaves, didn’t eat anything but grits and potatoes because the woman took the money she got from the state for them and played it at the track. Colleen ended up with some pervert that made her sit on his lap while he watched por
n and felt her up—ask her why she doesn’t date—and fuck only knows what happened to Carrie and Collin, because they were so goddamn young they wouldn’t even know what to tell me if there was something to tell. So you can take your foster care and shove it up your ass, Officer.”

  After a long silence, Bobby shook his head again. “I’m…. Christ, I didn’t know, Tom. I…. My parents took in foster kids when I was younger, it was… nice. We were nice. They loved it there, I….”

  “Well, it’s luck of the draw, and as you can see, we’re short on luck around here.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. Foster is off the table permanently, okay? I had no idea how bad it was for them, just….”

  “It’s all right.” The words came out as a growl, but that was partly because Tommy’s head really did hurt and he was tired down to his bones. He got off the couch and started cleaning up after the twins. He went into the kitchen to put their antibiotics in the refrigerator so he could get them ready for their nap.

  Bobby came in after him. “Anything I can do to…?”

  Tommy huffed a laugh, thinking he’d actually scared Bobby out of saying the word help. “Know how to change a diaper?” he asked over his shoulder as he started loading the dishwasher. “It’s almost time for their naps, mine too for that matter, but I gotta clean up in here. Can’t leave it like this for Colleen.”

  Looking shocked when Tommy allowed him to actually do something useful, like it was a privilege, Bobby asked immediately, “Where’s the stuff?”

  “Oh, uh.” Tommy turned around, his hands wet, water dripping on the floor as he pointed across the kitchen to a small cabinet. “Wipes and diapers and ointment and stuff are all over there. You can just change ’em on the floor. We’re not real picky about that.”

  “No problem.” Bobby beamed as he gathered the supplies.

  Tommy rolled his eyes.

  BY THE time the kitchen was done and everything back where it belonged, Tommy emerged to find the living room empty. He felt a quick bolt of panic until he saw Bobby padding down the stairs in his bare feet and the flannel shirt he’d been wearing earlier stripped off. A crisp white T-shirt covered his trim, well-defined chest. “You should have warned me that Max likes to pee after his diaper is off.”

  Tommy shouldn’t have laughed, but he did. “Gotcha good, did he?”

  “Oh yeah, you’ll be washing my shirt for me.”

  Tommy pointed at the hamper in the hall. “Throw it on the pile.”

  He started to pass Bobby to head upstairs, but Bobby stopped him. “They’re asleep. I put the rail up and left the door open so you’ll hear them.”

  “Oh.” He was disappointed and didn’t have a chance to hide it. “I usually read to them in the afternoon, settles ’em down. Did they fuss?”

  “Not a bit, but Zoe reached for a book when she got her clothes changed. I took the cue, they didn’t miss their story.”

  “Well,” Tommy tried to joke. “Now I’ll never know how Goldilocks fares.”

  “Happily ever after, I promise.” Bobby flashed him a teasing smile as he sat back down on the couch.

  Tommy eyed him for a moment. “Make yourself at home,” he said sarcastically, but joined Bobby on the other end of the couch.

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Bobby was grinning again, his fingers laced behind his head, resting, legs stretched out comfortably.

  “I can see that.” The silence in the room was peaceful, not awkward or heavy, and Tommy had to spend a few minutes reminding himself Bobby was still more cop than friend and—despite how incredibly good-looking he was—most likely straight. “How’s your mom doin’ now? I mean, after your dad and all.”

  Bobby looked surprised at the question, but answered, “She’s better. It was hard at first, ya know? Thirty-six years of marriage and being alone suddenly…. But it’s been over a year and she’s doing pretty good now.”

  “Because Sonny Boy swooped in and made a difference,” Tommy pointed out, part teasing, part admiring.

  Bobby laughed rather than take offense. “That’s right. Officer Swooper rescued Ma from….” His joke died on his lips and it looked to Tommy as if whatever he had been about to say would have hit too close to home. “Well, whatever I saved her from. Just glad she’s still around to look after.”

  “Wanna trade?” Tommy teased, nudging Bobby with his toe, having kicked his shoes off earlier.

  A little snort of laughter that Tommy was starting to find far too endearing slipped out. “Over my dead body.” Bobby shifted so he was facing Tommy now. “What happened to your mom, anyway? I know Cheryl is just… whatever she is.”

  “Died of an overdose when I was—” He paused for a minute, squinting as he tried to remember. “—almost thirteen. Collin had just been born and as soon as she had him, she went on a real bender.”

  “She stayed clean when she was pregnant? That’s impressive.” Bobby’s expression told Tommy how much he meant it.

  “Well, cleanish, I guess. I know she still drank a little and smoked pot, probably just enough to keep the cravings down. She wasn’t like Cheryl. I mean, she was a fucked-up mess too, but she did love us, wanted good things for us. Pop too, when we were little, but Jesus, addiction. What are ya gonna do?”

  “It’s a miracle none of you had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or something.”

  “Miracle and Irish genes, I’m guessing. I think we must have developed some kind of resistance in utero.” Both men laughed at that, Bobby shifting down a little farther on the couch. If Tommy didn’t know any better, he’d have thought it felt like the end of a nice date. Not that he’d had any of those, but he guessed if he wasn’t just out to get laid, but out to get to know someone, it would feel a lot like this encounter on the couch. Quiet and easy, a relaxed kind of fun with a small simmer of heat under the surface. I must be more tired than I thought.

  “You do good, Tom. Considering all that you have to deal with, you do an amazing job of it.”

  Bobby didn’t say it like Tommy was lucky to have his approval or like he needed it from anyone, more like he thought it was about damn time someone said it.

  “Just do what I gotta do,” Tommy murmured, feeling his eyelids droop. Sleep was creeping up on him. Somewhere deep inside, a warmth was spreading out from his core, something unfurling inside him that made him feel, for maybe the first time in his life, happy to be alive.

  “You say that, but you have no idea how many people I see in your situation that don’t do it. You’ve chosen this, Tom. You choose it every day you don’t turn your back and walk out that door. There are seven people that might just make it from here because of you.”

  “Just like you, copper?” Tommy teased, but he was half-asleep already, yawning as he spoke.

  “Better than me, Tom.”

  The words were a whisper, but they were the last thing Tommy heard before finally sinking down into a comfortable, restful sleep. Bobby’s voice chased warmly through his dreams with little laughs and soft endearments.

  WHEN TOMMY woke, he found himself under the blanket they kept over the back of the couch. The house seemed empty, and he knew Bobby had gone. He didn’t want to look at the heavy disappointment that left him with. Instead, he blinked his eyes open and went upstairs to check on the twins.

  “YOU WANNA do what?” Tommy didn’t mean to sound irritated, but hearing his sister tell him she wanted to go on a real date for the first time in her life was a shock first thing in the morning.

  “Prom.” Colleen glanced down like she should be ashamed. “We wouldn’t have to spend money on a dress or anything. Farah said I could borrow something pretty. And I know it’s probably on a work night, but summer’s coming and I’ll be able to work more shifts at the diner soon. I just—”

  Tommy cut her off. “It’s not that, Col, swear, I just…. You sure? I mean, do you even know this guy? How come I’ve never heard you talk about him?”

  “You have heard of him,” she insisted, rolling her eye
s. “You met him a few times. He was my lab partner last semester, remember?”

  Narrowing his eyes as he pictured the quiet, geeky kid who sat at their kitchen table and scribbled notes in between glances at Colleen, Tommy nearly laughed. “That guy asked you out?” He was standing in the kitchen in his boxer shorts, serving up fried eggs and toast. “I didn’t even know he could talk.”

  Colleen took the milk out of the refrigerator and started to pour it into cups, adding water like they always did. “Yes, he talks. He just doesn’t talk to you because all you do is stand around and scowl at him.”

  Before Tommy took a sip from his coffee mug, he muttered over the edge, “I didn’t like the way he looked at ya.”

  She rolled her eyes again. “He’s really nice and he’s really smart and he asked me and I wanna go,” she told him firmly. She stepped back as Davey and Mike ran into the kitchen and grabbed their plates.

  Tommy let out a resigned sigh. “Okay, lemme know when and I’ll get the night off.” He added quickly, “I wanna meet him again, though. He’s picking you up here at the house and he’s gonna have you home by a decent hour, or swear to God, I’ll come after him.” He kissed her forehead and tried to smile. “And he better be nice.”

  WHEN THE doorbell rang, Colleen stuck her head out from the bathroom. A curling iron was in her hand as she called out to Tommy, “Shit, he’s early! Let him in, please.”

  Tommy brushed past her on his way down the hall, nodding his head. “Kinda rude to show up early for something like this….” He was mostly teasing. He and Mike had done some recon on Colleen’s date and the worst thing they could find was that he sometimes skipped mass to play video games. Of all the guys at Colleen’s high school who could’ve asked her out, he was probably the safest.

  He stooped down to pick up some dirty laundry lying at the bottom of the stairs and tossed it into the hamper around the corner as he went to answer the door. Tommy was sure the surprise was clear on his face when he found Bobby on his doorstep. He had a cloth shopping bag in one hand and two DVDs in the other.