AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I like to make sure I’m clean,” a younger male voice called out. “It’s high-gleam-ick.”
“It’shygienic, not high-gleam-ick!” Tadhg screeched. “And you’ll be far fromhigh-gleam-ickwhen I take a shit on your—“
“Jesus Christ, I’ll sort it,” Joey barked. Releasing my hand, he shook his head and moved for the hallway. “Anything to shut the pair of you up.”
“Sound, Joe,” I heard Tadhg call back.
“See,” I heard Ollie cheer. “Told you Joey would fix it.”
“I’ll be right down,” he called over his shoulder, while he bounded up the stairs. “Just give me two minutes to sort these spanners out.”
“You’re going to need more than two minutes,” Tadhg called back. “Ollie might be small, but he sent a man-sized salmon up the river. It’s blocked solid.”
“Fuck my life,” I heard Joey groan, as he disappeared up the staircase.
“Take your time,” I laughed. “I’ll wait.”
When he was gone, I remained by the fridge, feeling a little unsure of his mother and a lot unwelcome.
If I thought Joey was closed off, it was nothing compared to the woman in front of me.
“He doesn’t do much of that, you know,” Mrs. Lynch said, flicking her cigarette ash into the already overflowing ashtray in front of her. “At least not these days.”
“Much of what?” I replied evenly, unsure of what to make of the broken woman in front of me.
I wanted to hate her so bad for allowing Joey to suffer for as long as he had. Instead, all I felt in this moment was pity.
“Smile,” she clarified. “He doesn’t smile often.”
“He’s smiling a lot more lately,” I told her. “More than he used to, at least.”
Offering me a weary smile of her own, she exhaled softly. “You must mean a great deal to my son.”
“I hope so.”
“You must.” With a small shrug of her frail shoulders, Mrs. Lynch took a deep drag from her cigarette. “He’s never brought a girl home before now.”
That statement should have thrilled me, knowing that I was the only girl that Joey had brought home, but to be honest, why would he want to bring anyone here?
Certainly not to meet the parents, that was for damn sure.
“Yeah, well, he means a lot of me, too,” I told her.
She arched a brow. “A lot?”
“An awful lot,” I clarified, unwilling to be ashamed of how I felt. “I’m in love with your son, Mrs. Lynch.”
“I thought you might be.” Something that looked a lot like sadness flickered in her blue eyes then. “I could see it written all over your face when you walked into the room with him.” She blew out a shaky breath before asking, “Are you being safe?”
I just stared at her, unsure of what to say.
“Is he protecting you?” she pushed.
“I’m on the pill,” I heard myself admit. “But we’re not sleeping together.”
She didn’t look like she believed me. “Be safe,” she replied. “Protect yourself if he won’t.”
“He always keeps me safe, Mrs. Lynch,” I told her, needing her to know how epic her second born was. “Your son is an amazing person.”
