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“I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” I urged. “Who you are? What you do? The knocks you’ve taken? The blows you continue to receive? How hard you love those kids? How much you sacrifice so that they don’t have to?” I shook my head. “It’s mind-blowing, Joe. Your selflessness is staggering.”
“Don’t say shit like that, Molloy,” he muttered, taking a swig of his coffee.
“Why not?” I pressed. “Are you afraid someone might hear me and realize how amazing you are, too?”
“I’m far from amazing,” he replied quietly, brow furrowed. “Seriously. Don’t put me on a pedestal. I wasn’t built for one. I’ll only end up letting you down.”
“I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job of doing the opposite,” I offered. “I’m so proud of you, Joe.”
“Don’t be proud of me, Molloy,” he bit out. “Don’t be. Because I’m not better. I’m not cured.” He blew out an agitated breath. “I’m just…”
“Trying?”
“Yeah.” Shoulders slumping, he nodded slowly. “Trying.”
“That’s enough for me,” I told him, voice thick with emotion. “You’re enough for me.”
“I need to talk to you about something,” he said then, expelling another frustrated breath. “Something important that happened today at the GAA grounds.”
“Yeah,” I agreed shakily. “I need to talk to you about something important, too.”
“Hey, guys.”
It was at that exact moment that Shannon walked into the kitchen, causing us both to turn away from the other in relief.
“How’s the face, Shan?” Joey asked, eyes trailing over the bruises. “Jesus.”
I looked at her, taking in the sight of her black eye and winced, feeling sick to my stomach.
“It’s okay, Joe,” she told him, offering him a weary smile. “It looks worse than it feels.”
“I’m so fucking sorry, Shan.” He dropped his head in shame. “I should have been here.”
“It’s not your fault,” she told him before I could. “None of what happened last night was your fault. You’re entitled to have a life, Joey.”
Yeah, he was, but that didn’t make it any easier for him.
“Did you manage to get Sean to go back to sleep?” I asked, tone soft.
“Finally,” Shannon replied. “Tadhg and Ollie are out for the count, but Sean? God, he’s in an awful way over Mam. He was sobbing his heart out for hours. He ended up crying himself to sleep.”
“Fucking cunts,” Joey choked out, vibrating with tension again.
“Joe,” I whispered. “Don’t say that.”
“Say what?” he argued. “The truth? Because that’s what they are: a pair of fucking cunts.”
“She’s still your mother,” I said, not because I didn’t feel the same way as he did. I simply knew that his words, no matter how true or sincere, would haunt him later, because his mother held power over him in a way that I could never understand.
“She’s worse than him,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “Leaving those kids here on their own. She could pick up the phone and talk to the boys, but no, like always, she runs and buries her head in the sand.”
Yes, she was worse than him, but Joey didn’t really feel that way. He was anxious and frightened, and feeling cornered. He was reacting to his trauma by using his words as bullets. Same as always. But those bullets were made of buckshot that splintered and ricocheted through him, too.
“Let’s see what we’re dealing with,” he said, emptying his pockets on the kitchen table. “I don’t get paid again until next week. Which leaves us with exactly…” His voice trailed off as he counted his cash and stacked a few rogue coins. “Eighty-seven euro and thirty cents for the next six days.”
“That’s good, right?”
“It should work.”
