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Well, you finally did it, asshole, a voice in my head taunted, you finally came full circle and turned into your father.
“You won’t be on your own. I’ll be there.” “You will?” “Of course,” I ground out, feeling too much in this moment. “I would’ve been there for the doctor’s appointment, too, you know. If I had known. I’m a lot of things, Aoife , but I’m not a coward, and I don’t run.”
She had never been someone to pass away the time with until something better came along. She was the time, the better, the goal, the whole nine yards. Any future I had ever dared to imagine for myself never veered from having her slap-bang in the center of it.
“Since when do the words ‘Joey Lynch’ and ‘sensible’ go hand in hand?” “Since the words ‘Aoife Molloy’ and ‘pregnant’ joined forces,”
“Being there for you isn’t the problem.” It’s being good enough for you that I’m struggling with. “I just… I wish I wasn’t who I am.”
“The worse shit gets in my life, the louder the voice gets, louder and louder and louder, until it’s literally screaming in my head, and I can’t focus on anything other than doing the one thing that I know that will quieten it down.”
I know being loved is a foreign concept to you, but it doesn’t come with strings or conditions. It’s unconditional, Joe.” I looked at her, feeling at a total loss. “I don’t get it.” “I know you don’t.” Nodding, she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “That’s okay.”
“Fine. I don’t plan on fucking around on you because I don’t want anyone else. Because I don’t see anyone else.” “And?” I stared at her. “And?” “And,” she pushed, giving me an expectant look. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I relented and said, “And because there’s no other girl on the planet as sexy—or as vain—as you.” “Perfect.”
“See?” he barked, inhaling an exaggerated breath. “I am breathing.” Yeah, he was breathing flames
“To talk, most likely.” “About what?” I rolled my eyes. “Uh, gee, I don’t know, Joe. Maybe about the fact that their children are having a baby?” Joey stared at me like he didn’t understand a word of my logic, and it made my heart ache for him. He truly didn’t understand how parents should behave. He had never experienced a remotely loving act from either one of his.
“Enough,” my father barked, glowering across the table at Joey’s father. “I don’t know how things work in your house, Lynch, but you’re in my house now, and you will keep your tone in check.” Whoa. Go Dad.
“I let you down, and I let your wife down, but I won’t let your daughter down.” He swallowed roughly and said, “I won’t let your grandchild down.”
Surprised by my words, my boyfriend turned to look at me, green eyes burning with unspoken emotion. It was almost like it hurt him to hear someone speak kindly of him. It was foreign to him, and it broke my heart.
“Grass?” Teddy threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t be so fucking naive, Tony. The lad’s a full-blown drug addict.” Both of our mothers gasped, while Joey’s shoulders slumped and he bowed his head, still remaining silent, even when his character was being shredded to pieces around us.
“You would have aborted Darren?” “Maybe not Darren, but definitely him,” Teddy spat out, and if any other father said that to his son, I was sure there would be eruptions, but Joey didn’t bat an eyelid at his cruelty. He was used to it. “Kind of like what your mother should have done to you, Teddy?” I heard myself hiss.
“Don’t raise your voice to my wife,” my father warned in a deathly cold tone of voice. “And her name is Trish, not woman
“I’ve loved your daughter for six years,” Joey finally broke his silence by saying. “I can easily love her for another eighteen.”
“And you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve to sit across this table from me offering up fatherly advice and accusing me of not being able to raise a child.” “Joey, son—” “No, Tony, let me finish, because this needs to be said,” Joey argued, holding a hand up to my father, while focusing on Teddy Lynch. “You might have fathered six kids, but you sure as shit didn’t raise them.”
“Darren raised me and Shannon. Not you, and not him. Darren raised us—until your husband literally drove him out of the fucking country. And then, all of the raising was left to me. So, don’t fucking sit there and pretend that I’m incapable of being a good father to my kid when that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for yours since I was twelve!”
“I know exactly who you are,” his father shot back, unyielding. “You’re me twenty-four years ago.” Nothing else he could have said could have hurt Joey more than that comparison, and I felt his hand grow limp in mine as he leaned back in his chair, looking winded.
There was a softness to Joey’s eyes that his father’s eyes were void of. He had his mother’s nose, I noted, and her high cheekbones, too. Similar to his sister, he had swollen, puffy lips that they had also clearly inherited from her. And sure, while they were both tall, broad, tanned, and blond, Teddy Lynch had cold, dead, emotionless brown eyes, while emerald-colored embers of fire burned in his son’s eyes. The two were like fire and ice. He had a lot more of his mother in him than anyone realized.
“You think I give a shit?” Teddy laughed cruelly. “I never wanted to see your face, boy. I still don’t, so what makes you think that I would want to see anything that came off ya?” “My heart’s bleeding,” Joey drawled sarcastically. “You’ll be bleeding alright, when I get my hands on ya.”
“She’s a tyrant, Aoife. You’ve never met anyone as cold as— Hold up. Should you even be using that stuff?” He stopped his rant-induced pacing to swipe up my bottle of nail polish and eye it warily. “Doesn’t this shit have chemicals that might be bad for my baby?” “It will be bad for you if you don’t back up from my top coat,”
“You want a girl?” “I just don’t want anything remotely like me,” he replied, and his honesty broke me. “Let it be all you, and I’ll be happy.”
“There were no stipulations spoken when you made your promises,” I argued. “Now come here and blow me.” “That’s my line.” “It won’t ever be again if you don’t do this for me.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Rolling his eyes, Joey sank down on the edge of my bed and pulled my feet onto his lap. “You have made an eejit out of me.”
“Don’t ever lose it, Molloy.” “Lose what?” “That spark of fire that makes you so incredibly you,” he replied, tightening his arm around me. “It doesn’t matter how your body changes, because I’m always going to keep coming back to you. Because I might enjoy touching all of this,” he explained, fingers trailing over my body until he reached my face and gently tapped my temple. “But I’m hooked on this
When they were gone, I flicked the butt of my cigarette behind me and jogged up the footpath to my house, needing another arrest under my belt like I needed a hole in the head. Because that’s what would happen. It didn’t matter what Trish Molloy told the Gards. My father wouldn’t be punished for a damn thing. He never was. The blame would fall at my feet. Same as always.
I couldn’t tell you how many times he swung that belt down on my body, but I must have passed out from the pain, because when I finally came to, everything was quiet, and my father was gone.
“Am I still bleeding?” “A bit.” “Do I need stitches?” “I don’t think so. Not this time.”
"not this time" SOBBING
“I know you agree with him.” “Agree with him about what?” “About Aoife.” Her hands stilled on my back. “I don’t want this life for you.” “Yeah, and I don’t want this life for you
“My face is killing me.” “There’s paracetamol in the cupboard.” “Mam.” “No, Joey.” “I’m asking ya to help me,” I bit out, feeling the desperate hunger for relief steadily clawing its way up my throat. “Please, Mam.”
“What do you have?” She sniffled before whispering, “Clonazepam.” Thank fuck. I sagged in relief. “Where?” Her face contorted in pain and she whimpered, “My handbag,” before walking over to the table and retrieving her bag that was hanging off the back of her chair. “You can have one and that’s it.” “I need more than one, Mam,” I replied, trailing after her. “Please. One won’t do shit for me.” “These are very strong.” Sniffling, she unscrewed the cap on her prescription bottle and tipped two C2s into my outstretched hand. “Don’t ever ask me to do this again.” “I won’t,” I replied, even though
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“Nope, see, Sexy Legs is going to give Devil Tits the nod as godmother, which gives Lynchy free rein over who his spawn’s godfather will be.” “Yeah, because referencing our best friend’s unborn child as spawn is something a godfather would say.” “Listen, Ginger Pubes, it’s happening, so back the fuck off and don’t even think about trying to steal my thunder on this.”
How he could be so good to me, so considerate and caring of my feelings, when he was going through hell was beyond me.
“Ceart go leor, a mhúinteoir,” my boyfriend replied with a nonchalant shrug as he replied in As Gaeilge. “Bhí mé ag rá le mo leannán go bhfuil grá agam di.” My heart slammed wildly in my chest as I mentally translated his words. Fair enough, teacher. I was telling my sweetheart that I love her. “Dúirt mé léi freisin go bhfuil cuma álainn uirthi,” Joey continued to say, not missing a beat. I also told her that she looks beautiful. Shrugging, he added, “Agus go bhfuil mo chroí istigh inti.” And that my heart is inside her.
“Do you want to go for coffee?” I heard Mam ask Joey’s mother when we reached the school car park afterward. “There’s a lovely little café at the corner of Main Street. We could have a little sit-down together. Mother to mother.”
“What do you say, Marie? Coffee and cake, while we dissect the prospect of grandmotherhood?” Joey’s mam looked like she had just been asked to explain Fermat’s last theorem.
SHE NEEDS A GIRL FRIEND
“What about the kids?” “What about you?” I shot back,
“Uh, he’s the father, so can he stay with me?” “Sure, Dad can sit on the chair next to you.” Dad. Holy fuck.
“That’s it?” Molloy asked, squeezing my hand as we both eyed the tiny alien-shaped creature floating around on the screen. “That’s the baby?”
“Please listen to me. I don’t want you to give him my name,” he repeated quietly. “Not my first name and definitely not my last name. I don’t want that kid to have a single thing passed down to him that came from me.”
“Can I keep one of these?” he asked, holding up the long strip of sonogram images. “Of course,” I replied, my heart bucking wildly in my chest as I watched him carefully tear one off the strip and place it in his wallet. “It’s your baby, Joe.” “Yeah.” Nodding to himself, he placed the sonogram in the picture slot in his wallet and smiled. “He is.”
“I don’t have a song.” “Well, find one because I need a song.” “Fine.” Dropping my hand to rest on her stomach, I said, “Madonna.” “‘Like a Virgin’?” “‘Papa Don’t Preach.’” She snorted. “Nice.” I smirked. “Thanks.”
The only nights I ever wanted to remember were the ones I spent with her.
“I was high that night, but you sent me soaring.”
“We’ll do it again,” I repeated, catching her chin with my hand and forcing her to look at me. “Yeah?” she whispered, tone hopeful. “Yeah,” I confirmed gruffly. “And you’ll be just as reckless.” Leaning in, I brushed a kiss to her lips. “And I’ll be slightly less high.”
I know you’re a good lad, but I’m telling you now, man to man, if you ever consider laying so much as a finger on my daughter or that child—” “You wouldn’t have to kill me, Tony,” I cut him off and said. “I’d do it myself.”
Shannon limp on the floor. Tadhg covering her body with his. Blood on his face. Mam standing in the kitchen screaming. And him. Him.
I couldn’t stop. Not until I made him stop. Forever. He needed to be stopped. I needed to make it all fucking stop
Whatever held me together these past eighteen years splintered and spliced. Eyes wild, I looked around me, trying to make sense of the war zone we had been raised in. The war zone I was standing in. Blood and tears. Pain and pressure. It was too much.
