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I have no answer for him. I just lift my head and watch him as he paces the floor. He looks desperate.
“Wake the fuck up, Irish!”
He’s shouting and Devon doesn’t shout.
“What the fuck do you want, D?”
Still yelling, he stops his pacing and stands in front of me fuming. “What do I want? I want you to snap out of your goddamned pity party and wake the fuck up! Emily and Ireland need you, asshole!”
I start to tell him that they don’t need me when he interrupts me.
“Just shut the fuck up, Irish. The bullshit has started again and it’s serious this time. Emily is terrified, dude. She needs you. YOU. NEED. TO. WAKE. THE. FUCK. UP!”
His words are starting to sink in, and I’m starting to feel anxious. I have never seen him like this. He is pissed, scared and frustrated. It must be serious. What the fuck is wrong? My girls . . . no! This cannot be happening. Not my girls!
“What do you mean it’s started again? Why is she terrified, D?”
Devon calms down and sounds very somber when he replies.
“J, whoever this is, that is messing with your girl? They’ve been in Mick’s house. They were in Ireland’s room, man. They fucked up her things.”
That is all it takes. It’s like somebody has flipped a switch and the surge of adrenaline and anger that I feel shooting through my body brings me back to life.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought by being away from them I was protecting them, but I was wrong. They need me with them to keep them safe. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself and not doing what I was put on this earth to do. Take care of those two girls. Nothing else matters.
Devon can see me waking up out of my masochistic funk and says, “Go get in the shower, Irish. You fucking stink.”
“Thank you, D, for everything.”
“I got you. Now go get yourself together. Your girl needs you.”
I run down the hall to take my first shower in days and wake myself up so I can get myself back to where I belong.
The Scientist
Emily
“Chica? Why don’t you let me take her and lay her down in the other room?” Cami asks from beside me on my mom’s couch. I know she’s trying to help, but I just can’t seem to let her go. Ireland is fast asleep in my arms after falling asleep in the car on the way here. We were on our way home after a big day of running errands when Mick called and told me to come to mom’s instead. I can’t stop replaying the phone call in my head on a constant loop.
“Hey Mick, what’s up? Did you think of something you needed me to pick up while I’m out?”
“Emmers, where are you right now?”
“We’re in the car about five minutes from home. Why?”
“Sis, I need you to head to mom’s.”
“Why? Mick, did something happen?”
He sounds somber when he says, “Mom’s fine, but I don’t want you and Ireland at the house right now.”
“Mick, is everything okay? You don’t sound okay.”
“Emmers . . . they got in the house.”
“What do you mean? Who got in the house, Mick?”
I don’t understand him. It’s like he’s talking in code.
