At this rate, Mom’ll be done getting groceries next door before I find a pen. She brought me along to carry the bags. Here’s a blue ballpoint pen. Perfect, but it’s in a package of twenty-four! Here’s one for $6.95. Why can’t I find a goddamn plain, ordinary, normal ballpoint pen? Finally I see a package of Bics—two blues, a black and a red. I snatch it off its hook and head for the cash, where there’s a lineup.
One cashier is talking to another one, who’s on break. The line moves very slowly as they blab and laugh about some guy who puked all over his girlfriend at some party.
I’m getting excited because there are only two more people in front of me when I hear someone call my name. “Declan? Declan O’Reilly? Declan, how are you?” The man reaches out to shake my hand, and I realize it’s my soccer coach from the summer I was ten—the last summer I had a normal life. He’s tall and has a big chest and shoulders, but I’m looking him straight in the eye. Last time I saw him, I probably came up to his belly button. He was a giant to me.
“Hello, Monsieur Lavoie.” He’s still shaking my hand, and I can feel it yanking my shoulder.
He finally lets me have my hand back and tips his head to one side while he gives me the once-over. He’s wearing a green canvas winter jacket and a striped scarf that looks like someone made it for him. His cheeks are red above a wicked five-o’clock shadow, and he still has the bushiest, blackest unibrow I’ve ever seen. Only now it has white hairs in it.
“Mon Dieu, Declan, you’ve grown so much! What are you, fifteen? Sixteen?”
I smile. “I’ll be sixteen in May.” I feel shy, though, like when I was ten.
Coach Lavoie’s kids go to French school. But we all played soccer together in the summertime. He was a great coach. We made fun of his accent. He’d say, ’Ow do you expect to get de ball if you don’t get your hasses in dere?! His face would get red, and that unibrow would wriggle like a big caterpillar. We laughed, but we got our hasses in dere and won!
“I was thinking about you the other day, Declan. I need someone to help me with one of the boys’ teams, the U8s. I’m coaching my youngest—”
He stops because I can’t believe his youngest son is eight, and I guess it shows on my face. He was three when I played with his older brother, Stephan.
“Yes, it’s true! The thing is, I asked Steph, and he’s too busy with intercity. So I thought about you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, sure. You were such a good little soccer player. A natural. I thought you’d play intercity, like Steph.”
I’m amazed he remembers. We did talk about me trying out for the intercity team. He and Dad were going to take Steph and me. Then shit happened. “Thanks, sir,” I say, “but I haven’t played since…” My voice trails off. He knows what I’m talking about. “We kick the ball around at school sometimes.”
He nods and says, “How is your dad? Is he still living in that cottage in Coteau-du-Lac?”
“Yeah.”
“Please say hi to him for me.”
I nod, but I know I won’t.
“What do you think about helping out?”
“Uh, I don’t know, Monsieur Lavoie. I’m working at the rink. Can I think about it?”
“Bien sûr! It would only be a couple of evenings a week. And sometimes on Saturdays.”
“At the same field?” The soccer pitch is about a kilometer from my house, right next to the rink.
“Yes, yes.”
“I guess I could think about it.”
“Like I said, Declan, I’d love to have you,” he says.
I look out from under my hair. Someone told me once my hair reminded them of Kurt Cobain, because of how long and scraggly it is. I don’t think I’ve had it cut since. Suddenly I’m self-conscious about my frayed, slush-soaked jeans and my nicotine-stained fingers. I don’t want him to see me this way. It’s my turn at the cash, and neither of us seems to have anything else to say.
“Tell Steph hi,” I say as I get out my wallet. “I better get back to my mom. She’s getting groceries.” I nod in the direction of the grocery store. “I’ll think about what you said.”
“One minute, Declan,” he says. He finds a piece of paper in his pocket and writes on it, gives it to me, then shakes my hand again and slaps me on the back before waving goodbye.
After I’ve paid for my stuff, I pull the crumpled note out of my jacket. Under his phone number it says, Please call me. I’d love your help.
Who knows? Maybe I will.
As I’m walking next door to meet Mom, I hear yelling. My brother is having a screaming match with a man who’s barring the entrance to the liquor store. Seamus is unsteady, and his clothes and hair look like he just crawled out of bed. I should probably step in, get Seamus out of the guy’s face, but I know my brother. He won’t go quietly. I don’t want Mom to know he’s even here. Besides, I’m still riding pretty high after talking with Coach Lavoie. I decide to simplify my life and deke into the grocery store.
Ten
“If you want the table set, Dekkie, then set it.” Mom’s buzzing around in the kitchen, getting supper ready for Sunday dinner with Kate, Ryan and Mandy. I’m hooking up a new Nintendo Wii to the living room TV. Mom splurged, with a little help from me, and got the Wii on Amazon for Mandy. My niece is going to love it. It’s Ryan’s first time here for dinner since he went on night shift at the medical center, and Mom wants everything to be perfect.
So then why did she tell Seamus to be home by six o’clock? He’ll sabotage the whole thing. Doesn’t she know that? Add my lunatic brother to the normal craziness of an O’Reilly family gathering, and you’ve got a recipe for nuclear war, not quality family time.
“Declan! Come do the table. They’ll be here any minute!”
“Do you want me to set this thing up or not?” I connect the last of the wires and feel bad about being rude. There’s no point making things harder for Mom. As far as I know, I’m still the good kid. She’s at the sink, tearing lettuce into pieces for salad. There’s a chicken on the top of the stove ready for me to carve. I tap her on the shoulder.
She jumps and yelps. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! You want to give me a heart attack?”
“Oh, Ma. Why’re you so jumpy?” I open up my arms to give her a hug. She reaches around me (as far as she can, at least), with a piece of lettuce in one hand and the head in the other, and hugs me back with her elbows. She’s so tiny it’s like wrapping my arms around a stick person. She smells like cigarette smoke and hair conditioner, same as always. “I love you, Ma. It’s going to be a nice dinner.”
“Oh, of course it is, as long as it’s not dry.” She nods in the direction of the headless, brown bird. “It’ll be nice to see Ryan. You know, he hasn’t been here for supper since Christmas?” She’s quiet for a few moments. “So, did you get the thing hooked up?” I can tell she’s excited about giving Mandy the Wii.
“Yep. Mandy can play her new game as soon as she wants to. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, how come you never bought me a Wii? I had to buy my own game console.” I’m teasing, but she takes me seriously.
“Oh, Dekkie. I know. Things were different back then.” She looks at me out of the corner of her eye to see if I’m serious. “Besides, I couldn’t have done this without your help.”
“That’s our secret.”
I reach above her head to get plates from the cupboard. “It’s all right, Ma. I know you love her more than me. At first it bothered me, but I’m okay with it now.” I’m only half joking.
She rolls her eyes.
We used to torture Mom by asking her over and over who she loved best, me, Kate or Seamus. She would always say, All my children are different and special, but I love them all the same. Then we’d ask her who she loved best, us or our friends, us or characters from TV shows, strangers on the street, dead relatives. No matter how hard we tried, we could never trip her up.
&
nbsp; I stuff a bunch of paper napkins into a glass. Like Martha Stewart, right? Mom tells me the chicken is ready to carve. I sharpen the big knife and am just starting to work on the wings and legs when we hear Kate and Ryan come in. She goes to the door.
There’s a lot of chirping as Kate and Mandy and Mom hug and kiss each other. Ryan’s deep voice rises above the others. Mom is flitting around like a hummingbird, hanging up their coats, taking Kate’s dish from her, listening to Mandy’s latest story. I want to be there when she shows Mandy the Wii. I put down the knife and grab a towel. I’m wearing an apron so I don’t get grease all over my clothes from the chicken. Ryan sees me first.
“Oh, look, it’s Dekkie Crocker!”
“Fuck off, man!” I slap him on the back and give him a hug.
A look from Mom says, You’re not too old to spank.
My niece runs to me with her arms up. “Dekkie, Dekkie, Grammy has a s’prise! Do you know what it is?”
I pick her up and squeeze her, then settle her on my hip like I’ve done since she was a baby. “Do I know what it is?” She kicks me in the thigh like a horse, the signal she wants to get down. “It was me who picked it out for you. You are gonna love it!”
“Declan, what is it? What is it?” She pulls me by the apron into the living room.
“Hang on to your shorts, girlie. As soon as Grammy’s ready.”
“I don’t wear shorts! Shorts are for boys!”
“Oh, sorry. Hang on to your Disney Princess panties then.”
Kate walks over and smacks me on the side of the head, hard. “Underwear, Declan. Panties is disempowering. I ain’t bringin’ up no girly-girl.”
I kiss my sister on the cheek, rubbing the spot where she hit me.
“Oh, I forgot you turned all feminist since you took that self-defense course. I think Mandy’s underwear should be a feminist-free zone. Besides, doesn’t she play with Barbies?” I walk around the living room on tiptoes, sticking out my chest like I have huge boobs. The apron adds a nice touch. My niece attacks me with her little fists, and I pretend to fall over, grabbing her and flinging us both onto the sofa. She wriggles away, too excited to stay still. But she manages to turn and stick her tongue out at me before escaping.
Mom’s standing in front of the TV set, finished with twittering around. She crooks her finger at Mandy to come, then points at the doors of the TV stand, motioning for her to open them up.
Mandy looks inside and sees the Wii, the controllers and the Mario game, all ready to go. Her face lights up, and she screams a string of words none of us can make out. It doesn’t matter. All Mom needs to hear is how happy she is. The nearest neighbors are half a kilometer away, but I’m sure they can hear her. She’s doubled over with her hands on her knees, and she’s turning red because she hasn’t come up for air.
Of course, she wants to play right away. She rips the cellophane off the Mario game in seconds and slides the disc into the console. “Play with me, Uncle Dekkie,” she says as she picks up a controller.
“Later, monkey. I have to finish Grammy’s chicken. But after supper, we’re on! Now, you get it going and practice—’cause yer gonna need all the help ya can get!” I do my best evil-cowboy impression, with bowed legs and fingers in my belt loops, and head back to the kitchen and the half-carved bird. Kate and Mandy follow me.
“No way you’re going to beat me, Dekkie! I beat Daddy all the time. I’m really hot!” She licks her finger and pretends to make it sizzle by holding it on her four-year-old butt, then runs giggling back into the living room.
I look at Kate, horrified. “Who taught her to do that?”
“She comes home from daycare with these things. Why do you think I’m concerned about girlie crap?” My sister is hovering over the table like a vulture. She swoops down on the veggie platter.
“I told you. School is evil.”
“For sure. She’s even asking to go on Facebook, because her friends are on it. What kind of parent lets a four-year-old kid go on Facebook? Shit for brains, I tell ya.”
“Language, Mrs. Massarelli,” I whisper.
Her fingers fly to her mouth, and she looks for Mom, pretending to be worried. When she sees Mom is nowhere around, she leans in and continues whispering. “Where’s Seamus?”
I shrug and whisper back, “He went out this afternoon. Mom told him to be home by six.” It’s almost six thirty on the kitchen clock. He could still show up.
Kate presses her lips together and shakes her head. “Asshole. Mom’s going to be disappointed. She’s been gearing up for this all week.”
“I know, but…” Am I the only one hoping he stays away?
My sister returns to her normal voice. “Hey, speaking of school and evil, Mom tells me you got a tutor?”
“Yeah. Remember Miss Fraser, the guidance counselor? She wants me to try to catch up and pass history. If I do, she thinks maybe I can actually graduate next year like I’m supposed to. Go figure.”
“Wow. It’s possible you’re not the idiot we thought you were.”
“Thanks, sis. Knew I could count on your support.”
“Well, the rest of us seem to be doing fine without a piece of paper saying we’re legit.” She’s crunching on a carrot stick. “Don’t you have to pay?”
“She’s a peer tutor. Free.”
“Oh.” She’s nodding like she just solved the mystery. “It’s a she! Is she cute?”
“No! She’s a pain-in-the-ass suck-up.” Cute, yes, and she’s not as much of a suck-up as I thought she was, but it would be suicide to tell Kate that.
“Well, if you do pass, it’ll be the first convocation for the whole family. You better reserve an entire goddamn row of seats. Mom’s going to want everyone to be there.” She looks nervous, like she said something wrong.
“Settle down. It’s not next year yet. I’ll probably fail everything anyway.”
“Graduation isn’t such a big deal. I didn’t graduate, and I’m happy.” She waves her carrot in the air.
“I don’t know. I like to picture myself walking across the stage to get my diploma. Then I open my gown and…” I turn toward Kate, pretending to flash an audience.
“Oh, you’re such a pig!” She smacks me again, on the other side this time. “Forget it. There’s no hope for you.”
I pretend I’m seeing stars, then shake my head. “Seriously, I’m gonna give it a shot. I may as well. The VP and the guidance counselor are making me do tutoring, so I don’t have a choice. It’s a”—I make air quotes—“consequence.”
“Ah, now I get it.”
Ryan comes in and takes a beer from the fridge.
“Grab me one too, Ry,” my sister says. “Hey, the brat’s doing tutoring after school.”
He swings around. “You?” Half a smirk and one raised eyebrow. Not a complete dis.
I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Thanks, guys. Your support is overwhelming.”
“No, Declan. That’s great. I was just surprised. Thought you hated school,” Ryan says.
“This doesn’t mean I like it. I just think it would be cool to say I graduated, that’s all.”
“Oh, don’t take him seriously, Ryan. He’s just doing it because he got in trouble. I thought there was something fishy when Mom told me.”
Like the only way I could care about school is if I’m forced to. Like I couldn’t want it on my own, or I’m not smart enough. I feel red creeping into my cheeks.
“No!” He elbows her. “Go for it. It’s a good thing. You’ll get better jobs, maybe even go to college. I’m proud of you, little bro.”
“Thanks.” How’d this guy ever end up with my sister? I smile at him, grab his beer out of his hand and take a swig before he knows what’s happening. He grabs it back, and then he smacks me on the back of the head. At this rate I’m headed for a concussion. I don’t care. Ryan makes me feel like a little brother again.
&nb
sp; Mom wants to eat while everything’s hot. When we finally sit down for supper, no one says anything about Seamus, even though there’s a space at the table where he should be. I catch Kate checking her watch. I know Mom’s thinking about it too, because she’s all quiet and distracted. “The chicken’s great, Ma. I love the outside crispy part. It’s the best.”
“Yeah, Barbara. It’s delicious. I’ve missed dinner with you guys! It’ll be great to be on days for a while. I’ll be back next Sunday!” Good old Ryan.
“Oh, thank you, boys. Thanks, Dekkie, for all your help getting things ready. And look at us all sitting around the table.”
I stare at my plate like I never noticed how interesting roast potatoes are.
“I like it!” Mandy chirps in.
“Me too, honey.” Mom puts her hand on the back of Mandy’s head and tickles her neck so she pulls in like a turtle and laughs.
“It’s nice not to have the TV on for a change.” Kate’s always complaining about the TV, mainly because Ryan and I like to keep it on sports. And if it’s not sports, it’s some kids’ show. “So Mom, can we borrow your car on Tuesday morning? Ours has to go into the shop. We’ll drive you to work and bring it back the next day.”
“Sure, that’s fine, dear. I’ll ask Janice if she can give me a lift home.”
Mandy opens her mouth to say something, but a burp escapes instead. She hides her face in Mom’s arm and laughs. If anyone else is thinking about Seamus, they’re not saying so.
Mom and Kate are in the kitchen doing dishes. Ryan’s reading the newspaper on the sofa. I’m lying on my side on the living room carpet, playing Mario with Mandy, when I hear it. A cough. Outside on the walk. Seamus is here after all.
Without moving my head, I glance at Ryan. He heard it too. I sit up.
Mandy’s worried I’m going to stop playing, but I threaten to beat her at the game if she doesn’t pay attention. I keep my eyes on the TV, my ears tuned to the door.
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