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“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Mam, how about everything!” I wailed. “Do we have the good ice cream in the freezer?”
“Always for you, my little cherub.”
“Good, because I’m going to need the whole tub,” I groaned. “And a razor.”
“Oh, Gerard, nothing is that bad, is it?”
“That depends on how you view heartbreak, Mam,” I replied, pressing a hand to my chest. “Because if you took an X-ray of mine right now, you’d see it cracked in half.”
“Ah, come on now.” Mam laughed, turning to look at me. “What’s all this moping about?”
“Claire,” I strangled out, rubbing the sore spot of my chest. “She’s at the cinema with another fella.”
Mam gasped. “She isn’t.”
“She is.” I twisted in discomfort. “Fuck, I think I might cry.”
“When did this happen?”
“Tonight, right now, in front of my fucking face.”
“Language, Gerard!”
“Mam!” I pulled myself up on my elbows to glare at her. “I’m dying from a broken heart here and you’re worried about my language?” I shook my head and gaped. “This hurts, okay? I am in serious pain here.”
“Love hurts, pet,” Mam replied, smothering her smile with her hand. “And I’m sure this is all one big misunderstanding.”
“I literally just watched her drive off in his car, Mam.”
“I don’t care what you saw,” Mam argued, batting the air with her hand. “I know that girl adores the ground you walk on and has done so since you were both in nappies.”
“Then you should know that the feeling is very much reciprocated,” I shot back, not one bit embarrassed by my admission. “Which is why I am dying here!”
“I could have a word with Sinead.”
“And say what?” I gaped at her like she had three heads. “Tell her that her daughter broke your son’s heart? No fucking thanks, Mam. I’d rather die on my hill of pride right now.”
“You could always tell Claire how you feel, Gerard.”
“I have. I do. Daily!”
“You could mean it.”
“I have never not meant it, Mam!” Disgusted, I flopped back down on the couch, only to howl out a groan when another thought poked through my depression. “Oh my god. Reginald! I’m going to lose custody.”
“Ah, here now, Gerard Gibson.” Mam laughed, throwing the remote at me. “Cop onto yourself a small bit, will you?”
“It’s always the mother who gets to keep the children, Mam!”
“Son, Reggie’s a hedgehog.”
“She already has all the kittens,” I groaned, biting my fist. “All I’m going to end up with is an ice-cream belly, and a tomcat that hates me.”
“Brian doesn’t hate you.”
“No,” I argued. “Brian is a deceiving bastard who only shows you his best side.”
