“I’m wearing a skirt,” I laughed, which earned me a string of curse-words, as he quickly set me on my feet, and pulled the hem of my skirt down. “It’s nice, huh?” Stepping closer, I grabbed his hand, and made him feel the fabric. “It’s totally fake leather, but I feel like a pure ride in it.”
“You look like one, too,” he muttered, rubbing his jaw, as his eyes drank me in. “Jesus, did you go to mass wearing that skirt?”
“I sure did.” Batting my eyes I grinned up at him. “But don’t worry, I plan on going to confession next week to atone for my sins.”
“Atone.” Smirking, he slung an arm over my shoulders, as we walked. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
“And you do?” Reaching around, I slipped my hand into his back pocket, my favorite place to touch him. “I didn’t see you lining up for holy communion.”
“Fair point.”
“So.” Thinking carefully about how I was going to phrase my next question, I said, “we’ve had fun this summer, haven’t we, Joe?”
“Yeah,” he replied slowly. “We have.”
“I mean, we have, though, right?” Exhaling heavily, I added, “We’ve spent a lot of time together, had a lot of fun, done a lot of stuff.”
“Is this the part where you tell me that you’ve had a great time, and you’ll always cherish the memories we’ve made together, but it’s time for me to get the fuck away from you now?’
“What?” I gaped at him. “No. Why would you even say that?”
“Not sure,” he replied in a curious tone, rubbing his jaw. “Those damn tv shows you make me watch must be making me soft.”
“Well, I’d say that I’m the one making you soft, but we both know that never happens when you’re around me.”
“Nice.”
“Thanks. So, listen, I have no plans on ending anything,” I hurried to say. “But I was hoping that I could run something by you really quick.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Only a little.” I laughed nervously and looked up at him. “How would you feel about coming over for dinner?”
“Huh?” Joey stared down at me like he hadn’t understood the question.
“Dinner,” I repeated, swallowing deeply. “I want you to come over for dinner.”
“With you?”
“Yeah,” I replied with an enthusiastic nod. “And the rest of my family.”
“No,” he was quick to shut down, as his hand dropped from my shoulder like my skin had burned him. “Not happening.”
I rolled my eyes. “Joey.”
"I'm not interested,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “If you wanted a guy that you could take home to meet the family, then you should have stuck with Ricey. I’m clearly not that guy, Molloy. I’m not the kind that mother’s want to see with their daughters shacking up with.”
“Oh, please,” I snapped. “My mam loves you.”
“Only because she doesn’t know what I do to her daughter when they go to bed at night.”
My jaw fell open. “Joe, come on.”
“No, no, no, don’t look at me like that,” he warned. “Don’t give me those big eyes, Molloy. It’s not happening. You know that I don’t want your father finding out about us. I could lose my job. How the fuck am I supposed to explain rolling up to the dinner table with his baby girl in tow?”
I shrugged. “We could just tell them?”
Now he was the one whose mouth fell open. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“What?” I defended. “Would it be so terrible if our parents knew about us?”
“Yes, it would,” he argued right back. “It would be very fucking terrible. I could lose my job.”
“He won’t fire you for being my boyfriend.”
“I’m not your boyfriend, Molloy,” he was quick to deny. “I’m just your—”
“Yes, you are, ya big eejit,” I snapped, irritated now. “It’s been seven months. You’re my boyfriend, I’m your girlfriend, and we love each other a lot.”
“We absolutely do not!”
“So much in fact that we love to take our clothes off and put our mouths on each other’s—“
“Jesus Christ.” He blew out a pained breath. “You are hell bent on getting me killed, aren’t ya?”
“It’s going to be fine,” I coaxed, sliding my arm through his, as I practically dragged him down the road. “They didn’t even sound that surprised when I mentioned it.”
“What?” He gaped at me. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Molloy.”
“Nothing, I swear.”
“Molloy.”
“Fine.” I threw my hands up. “I already told my parents that I invited you over for dinner.”
“No.” Joey stopped walking again, and this time, I think he stopped breathing. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“And I also told them that you said you’d come,” I admitted, covering my eyes with my hand and then peeking through my fingers.
His eyes bulged. “And?”
“And they said that dinner will be ready at one o’ clock,” I twisted the knife by adding. “We’re having roast beef. Please don’t be mad.”
“Roast beef?” Running a hand through his hair, he hissed, “Aoife, I’m going to be roast fucking beef when your father gets his hands on me.”
“Wow,” I mused. “You called me Aoife. You never call me Aoife.”
“Well, I suppose I better start practicing,” he hissed. “You know, for when I meet your parents.”
I grinned. “As my boyfriend.”
“Not your boyfriend,” he muttered, and then released a pained groan. “Oh my Jesus, I just realized something.”
“What?”
“My boss’s daughter is my girlfriend.”
Laughing, I patted him on the shoulder. “That, she is.”
DINNER WITH TONY
AUGUST 22ND 2004
JOEY
Molloy snookered me with an invitation to dinner with her family that I couldn’t get myself out of.
I’d been in her house countless times over the years, but never as her invited guest for a family dinner.
Unnerved and completely unprepared for what I was about to face, I stood slightly behind her the whole way there, keeping my hands in my jean’s pockets.
Don’t touch her, I mentally warned myself, as she opened the front door and stepped inside, and no goddamn fighting.
“It’s okay,” she said, with a smug grin, as she gestured for me to follow her into the lion’s den.
Yeah, it might be okay for her, I thought bitterly, but I was the one with everything on the line here.
My ability to provide for my family.
My ability to procreate with a functional pair of balls.
Yeah, I had a feeling both were at stake today.
This was all new territory to me.
One minute, I was twelve years old, and locking eyes on her at the school gates, and the next, I was seventeen, standing in her house, about to tell her father that she was mine.
Christ.
I had no fucking clue how to make this work without screwing everything up.
Because let’s face it, I had a gift for fucking up.
Muttering out a string of curse words under my breath, I followed her into the house, feeling my heartrate increase with every step I took closer to the kitchen – a kitchen I knew well, considering I’d helped Tony fit it three summers ago.
“Aoife, is that you, love?” With her back to the door, Trish Molloy reached into the oven and retrieved the nicest smelling joint of roast beef I’d ever had the pleasure of smelling. “Have you any idea what time young Joey is coming over? The meat’s just done, and I want to serve it while it’s hot.”
“Yeah, Mam,” Molloy offered, offering me a reassuring nudge with her shoulder. “We’re both here.”
Here we go.
“Joey, love.” Setting the roasting tin on the counter, Trish pulled off her oven glove and shuffled over to us. “How are you?” With a warm smile, she grabbed my arms, reached up, and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “It’s lovely to have you over.”
Repressing the urge to jerk away from her touch, I forced myself to smile down at the low-sized, blonde.
“It’s good to see you, Trish.” Feeling at a complete fucking loss, I shrugged and added, “Thanks for having me over.” Again. “The food smells great.”
“Ah, sure you should know by now that you’re always welcome in this house,” she replied, and then frowned. “But what have I told you about keeping that hood up and hiding that handsome face.” Reaching a hand up, she pulled my hood down. “Now.” She smiled and patted my cheek. “Much better.”
Jesus.
“Yeah, Joey.” Snickering, Molloy trailed after her mam, helping to set the table and lay out the cutlery. “You really need to stop wearing your hood up all the time.”
“Force of habit, I guess,” I bit out, glaring at the back of her head. “Can I help with anything?”
“No, no, love,” Trish said, ushering me over to the table. “You sit down and relax. You’re our guest. We’ll look after you for a change.”
The sound of a throat clearing filled my ears, and I didn’t need to look behind me to know that Tony had entered the kitchen.
“Joey,” he said with a sniff, as he walked over to the joint of beef. “You’re keeping well?”
“Tony.” Forcing myself to remain calm, I offered him a small nod. “All good. Thanks for, ah, for having me over.”
“It was Aoife’s idea.” Reaching into the drawer, he retrieved the sharpest looking carving knife I’d ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on. “She said the two of you had something to discuss with us.”
That’s how he’ll do it, I thought to myself, as I made my peace with God, that’s what he’ll use when he cuts my balls off.
“Dad,” Molloy growled in a warning tone. “You promised.”
Tony held his hands up. “Have I said a harsh word to the lad?”
“You didn’t have to,” she snapped back. “The fact that you’re glaring at him while yielding a carving knife says it all for you.”
Christ.
“Listen, Tony.” Knowing that I was going to have to get this over with sooner or later, I pushed my chair back and stood. “Can we talk outside?”
“You want to talk?”
“Yeah, I do.” I glanced warily at the shiny piece of steel in his hand. “Preferably without the knife.”
“Right so, boyo, let’s have that talk.”
Reluctantly setting the knife down, my boss nodded stiffly and opened the back door, before stepping outside.