by Brandon Witt
Davey looked at him like Tommy had asked the dumbest question possible. “Of course, Tommy. That’s our electricity this winter. What would you have done?”
It was a fair point, and they all knew it, but Tommy said, “I wouldn’t have swindled little kids with loaded dice to begin with.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep breath. “Can you figure out which kid it was?”
“Probably.”
“Do it, then, and give him his money back.” Davey looked like he was about to protest, but Tommy cut him off before he got going. “Don’t give me any shit, Davey. It’s one thing to lift something we really need, but stealing from people—from kids—is worse. I can’t explain it, but it’s personal, and it hurts a person in a way that toilet paper off a shelf doesn’t, okay?” Davey nodded, but he still looked like he disagreed with the logic. “Now go get me your dice and any trick playing cards or anything else you got stashed.”
Davey got up like he was going to comply, but first he said, “It’s a good lesson for them. They’ll know not to gamble.” He turned and stalked out of the kitchen.
“Or it’ll turn ’em into gambling addicts or set ’em up to be victims for the rest of their lives!” Tommy called after him. “You want that on your head, Davey?”
He didn’t get an answer, but he hadn’t expected one. Tommy leaned forward and thudded his head on the table. “He’s gonna turn into some bank robber or something, I swear to God.”
Tommy had forgotten Judy was sitting right next to him until he heard her voice.
“It’s a phase,” she told him. Tommy jumped at her words and Judy laughed. “Bobby got expelled in the fifth grade for bringing a dirty magazine he’d found in a dumpster to school.”
He lifted his head as Mike and Colleen laughed. Tommy grinned. “I’m so in love with that story, I can’t thank you enough.” Judy laughed too, but Tommy went on. “This ain’t a onetime thing for him, though. This is his MO, ya feel me?”
Judy nodded like she understood and—to Tommy’s surprise—let the nonword “ain’t” go without comment, but she said, “He does these things for the right reasons, Tommy. He just makes poor choices in how to achieve his goals. That’s something that can be dealt with, and you’re doing that. He won’t be a lifetime criminal if he has you as an example.”
Tommy wasn’t willing to admit how much he appreciated her words, but he did give her a small smile.
THE WEATHER got colder and the days got shorter. Bobby was back on regular duty, and Wyatt had made good on his threat. He came home for Thanksgiving and didn’t let Colleen off the hook with her excuses. They were back together, even with him living so far away.
Much to Tommy’s chagrin, Judy started dropping by more and more often. He remembered Bobby turning up uninvited on his doorstep one night, a lifetime ago, with movies and beer. Judy didn’t even bring beer. She would drop in to see how things were going. She would drop in because she baked cookies and there were too many for her to keep. She would drop in because Bobby had mentioned a school project one of the kids was working on and she had an idea to make it pop for extra credit. She would drop in because she missed the babies. She would drop in because she wanted to bring over something for Colleen. She could make up an excuse for any occasion, and she did it with ease.
The first few times it happened, Tommy bit his tongue and tried not to be rude. After several more visits, he tried to say something to politely illustrate he didn’t like surprise visits from anyone. His protest—which was admittedly weak—was met with an arched brow and a shrug.
“If I called first, you’d have time to make an excuse,” Judy told him.
“Isn’t that the point of calling first? To let someone out of it if they don’t want to deal with someone?”
Judy tilted her head as if she were considering Tommy’s words. “I suppose that’s true. But just between you and me, how often would you say you were free and I could stop by?”
He didn’t answer because they both knew what he would say if he had the balls to admit it. “Then why do you keep doing it if ya already know I don’t like it?”
She laughed in response. “First, I think you’re less bothered by it than you would admit.”
That much was true, but no way was Tommy going to say it out loud. Judy would try to move in next.
“And second, I think you do a fantastic job with these kids. Your life is a little rough around the edges, but there is a lot of love and an odd kind of respect at the core of this family.”
She paused, and Tommy could sense a but….
“However, I don’t think it’s a bad thing for your kids to know they have other reliable adults in their lives that they can turn to if the need should arise.”
Tommy took a breath and was about to protest when Judy stopped him. “Things happen. People get sick or hurt, and who is there for them if that happens?”
“Colleen and Mike would run the show until I was back on my feet,” Tommy told her firmly. He hated this conversation, at least partly because Judy was right.
“And if you didn’t bounce back? If something serious happened to you? If you were hit by a car or… fell down an elevator shaft, what would they do then?”
Tommy could feel the muscles in his jaws twitch and grind. “Colleen would take over and Mikey is right behind her. We’ve been doing this for as long as we’ve been alive, lady.”
He knew he sounded irritated, but things were getting out of control.
Rather than back down or start a fight as Bobby would have done, Judy nodded her head and said, “And now you’ve all got another resource you can depend on.”
Obviously things were as simple as that in Judy’s world. She didn’t acknowledge that she could change her mind at any time and leave people who started to trust her high and dry. She hadn’t even met Cal and Cheryl and didn’t know the world of complications and headaches she was offering to open herself up to. She thought she could step in and offer a hand to seven “adorable” children. She didn’t know how bad it could get, and Tommy quit trying to change her mind. Sometimes it was better to give someone enough rope so they could hang themselves.
He never said the words “you win,” but he and Judy both knew she had.
Her victory was clear to everyone when Christmas rolled around. It was never a big deal in their house. Even when his mother was alive and his father was still a happy, chatty drunk, they didn’t do much for the holidays. Halloween costumes were whatever the kids could rustle up on their own. Thanksgiving was a dry turkey and green bean casserole that no one liked, but they always ate anyway. Christmas was a fake tree his father had found in someone’s trash at some point, with plastic ornaments and a few knock-off dollar-store toys wrapped up in colored butcher paper.
For the last few years, it had been a little better. Mike and Davey always managed to get a real tree, and Tommy and Colleen went out of their way, knocked themselves out, to make sure the younger kids had at least one new thing to open Christmas morning. Colleen and Mike were better cooks than their own mother had been, so dinner was ham if they could afford it or a nice turkey Colleen usually got as part of a Christmas bonus from her boss. There were yams and mashed potatoes, honey-glazed carrots, and real dinner rolls—not just white bread with butter on it. It was something they did once a year, something Tommy felt proud of. The tree still had the old plastic ornaments, and there wasn’t much to get excited about under it, but it was hard work, and Tommy hoped they would remember as they got older, something nice and special—even if it wasn’t much of anything.
Judy, on the other hand, made it known early in the season that Christmas was going to be A Big Deal. She insisted on everyone going to the mall together right after Thanksgiving and getting a picture taken with Santa. Her treat. Of course.
Tommy generally avoided the mall at all costs, especially at the holidays. Not only did they not have enough money to buy anything, but he didn’t trust Davey’s sticky fingers there. The kid was l
ike a magpie, and Tommy wasn’t sure Davey could resist all the shiny objects. The last thing Tommy needed was for him to get hauled off by mall security right before Christmas. Just thinking about the crowds and the noise was enough to give Tommy a headache. Mostly, he didn’t like taking them places filled with things they’d want but couldn’t have.
Max and Zoe were the only ones young enough to believe in a giant elf who dropped down a chimney they didn’t have to leave toys and candy for them, and they were too little to care. The rest had learned at a young age that Santa skipped over their house, and then they realized—younger than most of their classmates—Santa wasn’t real at all. Despite all that, Carrie and Collin stood in line with a short list prepared, their eyes alight with what Tommy thought of as bitter, dangerous hope.
The picture was just supposed to be the kids. But when Max and Zoe saw some strange man in a red suit and the rather disgruntled-looking elves, they both started to scream like banshees. That’s how Tommy ended up on one side of the photo and Bobby on the other. It took four attempts to get a decent shot. Max was picking his nose in the first, and Zoe had jerked Santa’s beard off in the second. Mike was rolling his eyes in the third shot, but the fourth, Tommy hated to admit, was heartwarming. The kids were all dressed in their best clothes—just sweaters and jeans—but they looked nice and clean. They were all smiling at the camera and Bobby was grinning, his face in profile because he was looking right at Tommy.
Looking at that photo, no one could have guessed they were a band of thieves and swindlers, and two children of a whore.
Tommy liked it and even paid a couple of dollars for a cheap frame so he could stick it on a shelf in the living room, but that picture was a lie, and he knew it.
The following week, Mike and Davey came home with a small Christmas tree. Tommy never asked where they “found” their trees. They usually just appeared in the early-morning hours, but this year the boys were bounding through the door with one in the middle of the afternoon.
“Tommy!” Mike shouted as he and Davey struggled to drag it through the door. “Guess what!”
“You got a tree,” Tommy answered before taking a sip from his coffee cup. He had to work later and was already wishing he could take a nap.
Mike rolled his eyes. “Obviously. But we got a job too.”
“Both of you?” Tommy asked, falling down on the sofa. “You got school.”
Davey waved his hand and said, “It’s almost out for winter break.”
“Yeah, and besides, the guy down at the lot said we could just come by a couple hours in the afternoon,” Mike explained. “We worked for him today, tied the trees up for people, and stuck ’em in their trunks and stuff, so he gave us this one for free.”
“And ten bucks each!” Davey added. Tommy had always thought Davey enjoyed stealing, but apparently it was the money he enjoyed, not the means that brought it.
Mike disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with an old bucket full of rocks and water. Davey seemed to read his mind and started to shuffle the tree to him.
“I stashed the money under the sink,” Mike said as he and Davey tried to secure the tree.
“Go get it back,” Tommy told him.
At the shocked look on Mike’s face, Tommy added, “This is like found money. We didn’t plan for it, so you two should keep what you earn.” Even Davey looked like he was going to protest, so Tommy said, “I’m proud of you two. You didn’t lift it, you didn’t take advantage of anyone, and you figured out a way to earn some dough in the process. You should keep it.”
The boys had wrestled the little tree into place and they both stood up, wiping sap from their hands on their jeans. They had guilty looks on their faces, and Tommy wondered what the real story was, but he didn’t have to ask.
“See, the thing is…,” Mike started.
Davey huffed and stepped up. He was more used to having to confess his crimes to Tommy than Mike was. “The guy saw us eyeing this one and he came over to us. He said he’d caught us on video the last couple years nicking a Christmas tree. He never reported us because he figured if a kid is desperate enough to steal a tree….”
When Davey paused, Tommy asked, “And?”
“And, well, he said last year he decided if he caught us casing his lot, he’d see if we were willing to work for it instead of just taking it.” Davey shrugged and added, “We were.”
Tommy thought it over for a minute before he said anything. “So he was gonna have you arrested if you passed up the offer?”
“Nope,” Mike said. “He’s just a nice guy. He said we could have the tree either way, but he wanted to offer us some work if we wanted it.”
Tommy didn’t know what to say to that. He knew there were nice people in the world. He was even friends with more than a few. But this guy took the cake. What kind of a guy offered a job to someone who made a habit out of stealing from him? Most people, Tommy included, would’ve probably kicked their asses. An alarming thought skidded through his mind before he had a chance to stop it. He wondered if he could figure out a way to get Judy down to the lot to meet the guy. They were made for each other.
He’d heard someone say once that a true sign of being in love was an urge to matchmake for people. He rolled his eyes at himself and finally said, “You should still keep the money, all right?”
“Half,” Mike told him firmly. “We’ll keep half for ourselves and the rest we’ll save for whatever, okay?”
In general, they were a pain in the ass. They were sometimes reckless, sometimes thoughtless, and neither of them liked doing what they were told. But standing there with the winter sun spilling through the window behind them, looking rightfully proud of themselves because they’d worked and done something good for a change, good for the whole family, Tommy had to admit that they were good—no, great—kids. They were going to grow into good men, even if it killed Tommy.
“All right, deal. You two keep half and do something for yourselves.” He cleared his throat as his emotions threatened to choke him. “You’ve more than earned it.”
Davey turned a devilish look at Mike and said, “Now you can buy a Christmas present for your girlfriend.”
The magical bubble of Best Kids Ever burst when Mike punched Davey in the arm and told him sharply to shut up. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“No more hitting today,” Tommy told them. “I don’t have time to break up any bullshit if we’re gonna get the tree done before I leave for work.” He finished his coffee before he asked Mike, “Who’s the girl?”
Mike looked at his shoes. “Just a girl at school.”
“You remember the rules, right?” Tommy asked as he narrowed his eyes on Mike.
“Don’t knock anyone up,” Mike said with a nod. “I haven’t even asked her out yet, so I don’t need to worry about that one anytime soon.”
“What’s the other rule?” Tommy prompted him, feeling like between the two, this one was more important.
“Hands off until I know it’s cool with her and no doesn’t mean maybe, keep trying,” Mike recited.
They’d had that conversation over a year ago, but Tommy was glad to hear Mike remembered every word.
Mike went on to say, somewhat bashfully, “She plays the cello and she likes my poetry.”
Tommy couldn’t hide his surprise. “You write poetry? Since when?”
With another shrug, Mike said, “We did a unit on it in English, and I kinda liked it.”
“Gonna let me read any?” Tommy asked, watching Davey out of the corner of his eye.
The kid was picking off any loose needles and fluffing the branches. He was pretty damned proud of that tree.
“Sure. Judy’s got my folder right now, though.” Mike shifted on his feet like he was embarrassed. “She said she was gonna put ’em in a book or something, so I could keep it and read it when I’m older.”
That idea would never have occurred to Tommy. “That’s real nice of her. Be sure and th
ank her for it, ya know?”
“I will. I mean, I already did, but I will again when she’s done.” Mike paused for a beat and chewed his lip, looking like he was thinking hard about something. “She’s real nice, like… I think it’s what a grandmother is supposed to be like. Baking cookies and doing nice stuff like that.”
Davey was digging in the closet under the stairs when Mike sat down next to Tommy.
“You’re probably right,” Tommy agreed.
Grandma O’Shea had died before any of them were born. Cirrhosis of the liver, of course. But he and Mike were old enough to remember their grandmother on their mother’s side. Tommy figured if he ever looked up a definition for mean as a snake, her picture would be there with it for reference.
She had a tiny dog she would sic on them when they were little because she thought it was funny as hell when they’d run screaming through the house from it. That old bat would cackle like a maniac when they cried and ran to their father to be picked up. She liked to smack Tommy with her cane for no reason at all, and she once told Colleen, who was barely older than Zoe at the time, that she was the ugliest child she’d ever seen and she should have been drowned at birth. Tommy was seven then, and he told her one day he was going to kill her in her sleep. That, for whatever twisted reason, made Tommy her favorite. She still wasn’t nice to any of them, but she said he at least had balls, which was more than she could say for his father. Tommy hated her. She finally died when he was twelve years old, and Tommy cleaned out her jewelry box and sold the few trinkets down at a pawnshop. He had taken Colleen and Mike out for ice cream and stashed the rest of the money.
Mike pulled him out of his thoughts when he said, “Ya know, sometimes I think maybe Bobby and Judy are, like, God’s way of apologizing for how shitty things were.”
Tommy let the comment about God go. He figured he still owed the guy one for the night Bobby was shot. Or maybe he didn’t owe him one, but maybe they were almost even.
“Were?” Tommy asked, laughing as he looked around their shabby home.
