“I can’t sleep when you’re not here,” she said.
“I was just next door. You know that.”
“Well, we didn’t wanna wake you,” Kellen said. “Sandy said she’d go. And the cops were fine. They didn’t hassle her. Anyway, I’m sorry. The cops were just—”
“Fucking pigs. What business is it of theirs? Like they got any business telling me what to do.”
“I know.” Kellen finally put his hand up to his jaw.
“You took this out to the drags? I didn’t know you had it finished yet,” Liam said. He leaned down to look at the polish on the Barracuda’s hood.
“I finished it yesterday. That’s why we took it out.”
“How’d it do?”
“It’s goddamn fast,” Kellen said. He knew how to make Liam look the other direction. “I think it’ll beat just about everything out there. Well, not one of them big-block Corvettes, but damn near anything else. We smoked a ricer, which is how I got in a fight.”
Liam laughed and looked down at his empty hand. He reached over and slapped Sandy on the leg. “Go on in the house, baby, and get me and Kellen a beer.”
“Okay.” She hurried up the steps and slipped inside.
“How fast?” Liam said.
“I hit one-oh-five in the quarter-mile. Think she’d do one-forty out on the flats.”
Sandy came back with the beers, already open. Kellen took his and drank.
“We should take it out,” Liam said.
“Yeah, there’s some money to be made. Plenty of guys with newer cars think they can take an old beast like this.”
I touched Kellen’s leg and he shifted the beer to his other hand. When he lowered his hand to his side, I slipped mine into it.
“You gotta stay outta trouble, Kellen. I got work for you to do. Can’t be having the pigs hassling you on bullshit charges,” Liam said.
“No, you’re right.”
For a few minutes, they were quiet, drinking their beers.
“Well,” Kellen said. “It’s late. I guess I better take Wavy on up to bed.”
“Stay outta trouble.”
“I will.”
I scooted back in the car and Kellen got behind the wheel, with the beer bottle between his legs. At the farmhouse, he didn’t turn the engine off, and he was quiet, worrying. I turned around in the seat, put my arm around his neck and laid my head on his shoulder. He sighed.
After a few minutes, he put his arm around me and kissed my hair again.
“I had fun,” I said.
He laughed.
“You got punched and arrested, and you had fun?”
I nodded, careful not to bump my head against his jaw. He squeezed me tight, almost as tight as I needed. Tight enough to let me know he wasn’t too afraid of Liam. Tight enough to tell me I was important to him. A little tighter and I would know I was more important than anything else. That was what I wanted.
7
WAVY
March 1982
When Donal and I came home from school, a shining red Corvette was parked in the driveway. Uncle Sean was standing in the front room, smiling and running his hands through his hair. Blond, like Liam’s. Mama was dressed and pretty and smiling back at him.
“Do you remember your uncle, baby?” she said.
I remembered him. He came to stay with us after Liam got arrested. Before Mama got arrested. Uncle Sean was loud, like Liam, and sneaky. He had tricks to make you smile when you didn’t want to.
To warn Donal to be careful, I pinched him, but he said, “Ow, Wavy, don’t,” and went right to Uncle Sean. Laughing with his mouth open, he let Uncle Sean roll him around on the rug and tickle him. Dangerous.
Then Liam came, and he and Uncle Sean slapped each other on the back. Loud thumping slaps that made my shoulders tight. I didn’t want to stay there, but I didn’t want to leave Donal alone with them. He was still little.
Uncle Sean tried to lift Donal up the same way Kellen did and said, “God, he’s big! Are you serious he’s only six?”
“He turned six back in January,” Mama said.
“I thought he was born in March.”
“January,” Mama said. “And he’s big for his age.”
Liam picked Donal up, too, and said, “He’s gonna be a giant.”
“Like Kellen!” Donal shouted. Mama frowned when he said that, but I hoped he was right.
“Let’s have dinner,” she said.
She took down Grandma’s cookbook and flipped through it. Nothing belongs to you. It didn’t matter that Grandma gave the cookbook to me. All Mama had to do was hold it in her hands and it was hers.
“Oh, please, the good meatloaf,” Sean said.
“Yeah, baby,” Liam said.
Donal, too: “Meatloaf!”
“Alright, alright!” It made Mama smile, everyone asking her to feed them.
Uncle Sean went to buy groceries with the list Mama wrote, and he said, “You wanna come with me, Don? Ride in the Corvette?”