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“Joe,” I squeezed out, clutching the phone with a death grip. “I can’t do this on my own.”

“You won’t have to,” he vowed. “I’m coming home to you, Molloy. I promise.”

129

Foster Mothers

JOEY

Ridiculously nervous, I dialed the number on the piece of paper in my hand and listened as it rang.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

“Hello?” The sound of her thick Dublin accent was momentarily foreign to my ears. After all, it had been a while since I had heard her.

“Edel?” I cleared my throat. “It’s,, ah, it’s Joey Lynch.”

“Joey!” she squealed—actually fucking squealed—down the line. “Oh love, it’s so good to hear your voice. How are you? Are you well? Are you eating? Have they been treating you kindly? How’s the detox going? Now, don’t you worry about a thing down here. The boys and Shannon are in safe hands. How are you fixed for underpants, pet? Do you have enough of them? And socks? I sent up more tracksuits, but it you need more, I can—”

“I’m grand,” I quickly said, preventing her from continuing her ramble. “I’m, ah, I’m better than grand, actually.”

“Ah, love, that’s the best news I’ve heard all year.” Her tone was laced with affection and emotion. “John and I never doubted you for a second.”

Her response momentarily took me aback, and I had to compose myself before I could speak. “I just, ah, I finally earned phone privileges, and I, ah, I wanted to call to check in.”

“Well, I’m delighted to hear your voice,” she replied. “You sound so well in yourself, pet.”

“Yeah.” Feeling like a tool, I leaned against the phone attached to the wall of the day room and clenched my eyes shut, second-guessing myself throughout the entire conversation. “I’m a lot more clearheaded these days.”

“Well, John and I have a big surprise for you when you get home next week.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Joey.” Her voice was laced with concern now. “You’re coming to live with us, and that’s final. I don’t want to hear a word of protest, and if you even think about going out on your own, I should warn you now that I have the nose of a bloodhound. You need only ask Johnny and Gerard. I will sniff you out and bring you home.”

“No, that’s not what I’m…” Pausing, I pinched the bridge of my nose as I strived to say the right thing. “I don’t have any plans to go out on my own for a while.” Couldn’t afford to if I wanted to. “I’m grateful for the roof over my head you’re offering,” I added, chewing on my lip. “I don’t want to be separated from them.” The kids.

“You’ll never have to be,” she soothed down the line. “Once you’re home, love, you’ll stay home. With your family.”

“That’s the problem.” I gnawed on my knuckle as a surge of anger rose inside of me. “Darren went talking to my team behind my back.”

“Darren?” I could hear the surprise in her voice. “What did he say to them, love?”

“He was discussing my treatment plan with them. Apparently, he’s down as my next of kin. By the way, can you get that changed for me? Because it’s supposed to be Aoife.”

“Of course, I can. That makes sense.”

“Thanks. Anyway, they were talking, and they want me to stay on at rehab.”

She was quiet for a long moment before asking, “And what do you think, Joey love?”

“Honestly?”

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