“I like to make sure I’m clean,” a younger male voice called out. “It’s high-gleam-ick.”
“It’s hygienic, not high-gleam-ick!” Tadhg screeched. “And you’ll be far from high-gleam-ick when 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.”
“My son is a loose cannon,” she corrected sadly. “Just like his father was at that age.”
“Yeah, that’s not even close to being true,” I shot back heatedly, her words irking me. “Joey is nothing like your husband.”
Surprise filled her eyes.
“Yeah,” I bit out, staring right back at her. “I have eyes. I know what happens in this house.”
“You don’t know anything,” she whispered.
“I know a lot more than you think,” I shot back. “So don’t you dare tar Joey with the same brush as him.”
“I understand the need to defend him,” she whispered sadly. “I understand the temptation. I was your age once. I understand all about the temptation that comes with loving a boy like my son. He’s handsome, and talented, headstrong and protective, wild and reckless. But just remember that protectiveness can switch to possessiveness in the blink of an eye. Headstrong can switch to commanding, and, well, recklessness can lead to more than just addiction.” She sucked on her cigarette before exhaling a cloud of smoke and asking, “You do know that don’t you?”
“Know what?”
She looked so sad when she said, “That my son has an ongoing battle with addiction.”
My heart plummeted.
“He used to,” I corrected, thinking about how good of a handle Joey had gotten on things since his slip back in September. “He’s okay now, though.”
“You don’t really believe that,” she replied softly. “Someone like my son, with the kind of habit that has been going on for as many years as it has, can’t make it go away overnight, and as powerful as first love may seem, it will never be strong enough to overcome his demons. He will never want you more than he wants his next fix, Aoife. That’s the sad truth of my son’s life.”
Instantly, my back was up. “You’re wrong.”
“I wish with all of my heart that I was,” she said. “But I know I’m not. It’s only one flick of the switch away at any given time. And if I could give you one piece of advice, it would be to run for cover before my son explodes like his father and you’re swallowed up in the riptide.”
Stunned, I gaped at the woman in front of me and just shook my head.
How could she think about her son like that?
How could she have so little faith in him?
“You know, I’m really trying hard to think of something diplomatic to say to you, but I’m coming up empty.” I shook my head, unable to hide my disgust. “How can you say that about your own flesh and blood? You’re supposed to be his mother.”
“I am his mother,” she agreed, weary. “And that’s how I know that he will break you.” A shiver racked through her slender frame. “He will chip away at your heart, gnawing and gouging at it, tearing away at it strip by strip, until there is nothing left. Until you are nothing. He will break you because that’s all he knows. It’s all he’s ever known.”
“He loves you,” I bit out, feeling my eyes burn with tears of devastation for the boy who kept me company at night. “So much, and you speak so badly about him.”
“I love my son, Aoife. I do.” Exhaling a cloud of smoke, she took another deep drag from her cigarette. “I have six children and make no mistake when I tell you that I love each one of them equally. But there’s only one of my children that frightens me. Only one of my children is the walking reincarnation of his father.”
Horrified, I shook my head. “Why are you telling me this?”
She looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Because nobody told me.”
“I managed to unclog the toilet,” Joey said then, re-joining us. “But you’re going to need to get someone to take a look at that cistern, and the piping behind the bowl, Mam,” he continued, moving to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. “That leak is worse than ever and it’s starting to rot away at the floorboards beneath the lino in the bathroom.”
Grabbing a bottle of generic branded washing up liquid from the windowsill over the sink, he soaped up his hands, oblivious to his mother’s words of warning.
“If we don’t get a handle on it, it’s only a matter of time before the floorboards give way.” Shaking his hands, he reached for a tea towel. “I could try and replace the piping at the back, but it would be a patch-up job at best.”
“Thanks, Joey, I’ll get your father to have a look at it later this evening,” his mother replied.
“Why?” Joey shot back defensively. “He doesn’t know shit about plumbing. I’ve already told you what the problem is. Once I get paid on Friday, I can get the parts for you.”
“And I’ve told you that I appreciate your help, and your father will sort it when he comes home.”
“When he comes home?” Joey sneered, tossing the tea towel down. “You mean when he’s pissed off his head and falling through the door, looking for a warm body to either fuck or fight with?”
Moving to stand beside him, I slipped my hand into his, desperate to show him the support he needed.