The Last Thing He Needs (5 page)

“If I’m going to make someone give you your money back, money that was allegedly taken from you, I have to know how much it was, where you kept it, where you got it, see a pay stub… that sort of thing.”

Tommy let out a snort of laughter, realizing Bobby was messing with her, liking it.

“Piss off.” Cheryl got to her feet with a stumble as Cal started to lift his head from the front carpet. “I need a drink,” she said to Cal.

“We’re out,” Tommy informed her as he came in from the kitchen with two sippy cups and a little bowl of crackers and sliced bananas.

“Out? How could we be out?”

“’Cause ya drink like the world’s ending tomorrow? ’Cause ya don’t know when to quit? ’Cause—”

“Because
you
spent all my money on some shit we didn’t even need?” Cheryl spat back before she headed into the kitchen.

Tommy could hear her opening cabinets, the refrigerator, tearing the room apart. He knew better than to try and stop her.

“Shit we don’t need like diapers and formula and medicine and, oh, I don’t know, electricity and fucking
food
?” Tommy shouted through the house. The twins looked at him with wide eyes as he handed Zoe her cup and set their snack down on the coffee table.

“Don’t yell! My head fucking hurts!” Cheryl screamed from the kitchen.

“That makes two of us,” Tommy said quietly. He looked at Bobby and, for maybe the first time in his life, felt embarrassed by what he came from.

Cheryl came back in then, glaring, her hands visibly shaking. “I should sell those two.” She nodded to the twins. “All they do is cry, shit, and cost money.”

Tommy clenched his fists, tilting his head down like a bull about to charge as he took a step toward her. “If you
ever
even
think
about it, I’ll—” He didn’t get to finish his warning because Bobby cut him off.

“That’s a crime,” he told her as he stepped between Tommy and Cheryl. He passed Max to Tommy as if he knew it was the only way to defuse the situation. “A serious one, hard time, federal pen. If anything ever happens to either of them now, you’ll be the first person we arrest, Mrs. O’Shea.” He added the last with a small snarl Tommy wouldn’t have thought him capable of. He didn’t sound mild mannered or
kind
now. He sounded angry, like he wished he could knock her out. Tommy had to like him a little for that too.

Cheryl let that sink in. She looked like she was crossing plan B off her mental list. “I just need a goddamn drink!”

Tommy knew booze was her second drug of choice. She used it to help her come down from anything else she’d taken.

With a sigh, Bobby reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He removed a twenty and passed it over to Cheryl. “You and Cal go knock yourselves out. On me.”

Tommy rolled his eyes so hard it actually hurt, but he didn’t say anything until Cheryl had wrapped her arms around Bobby’s neck to thank him, her demeanor changing instantly. “You are
such
a gentleman,” she told him, trying to catch his mouth with a kiss even as Bobby quickly unwound her and backed up. “I’m good for it, promise.”

“Only if you’re not afraid of getting the clap,” Tommy stage-whispered, setting Max down next to Zoe before he started picking up toys and clothes and books from around the room.

For one instant, Cheryl looked hurt. “Fuck you, Tommy.”

“I’ll pass,” he said flatly, glancing over his shoulder as Cheryl went to rouse Cal. As soon as there was promise of a bottle from the corner liquor store, Cal was on his feet, staggering, but up. “Take that can out with you and hose it out. Whole place smells like… well, smells like you. Jesus.”

Cal’s dark brown hair was greasy and streaked with silver, his skin wrinkled and dirty, and his green eyes rimmed in red. He hated to admit it, but Tommy knew what he could look like twenty or thirty years down the road if he didn’t take care of himself. Cal blinked at his oldest child, then down at the trashcan at his feet. “Oh, right. Good thinking, Son,” he said, running his hands down his front, checking for vomit or trying to smooth the wrinkles out, Tommy didn’t know.

“Right, Pop.”

“How’s the little ones?” Cal asked, and Bobby looked so shocked Tommy thought he might fall over.

“Better, thanks for askin’.”

Cal patted Zoe on the top of her head as he passed her. “Right, well…. Guess we’re off.”

“Good riddance,” Tommy muttered darkly as Cal picked up the can and Cheryl tugged him out the door. It only took him another minute to finish cleaning up and when he was done, Bobby had settled comfortably on the couch. He was watching the twins munch on their food and play with their toys.

“I get why ya helped us out last night, but…
that
? Giving them money so they can go out and do it all over again? Isn’t there a word for that?”

“Enabling.” Bobby stretched his legs out, knees spread slightly. Tommy had to look away.

“No, I think it’s called stupidity.”

Bobby laughed, then shook his head. “Did you really want
that
doing DT in here all day? Besides, it was your twenty.”

“Fair point.”

“Should keep them busy for a while, at least.”

Tommy shook his head. “Half hour, tops. But they’ll thumb a ride out to the truck stop so Cheryl can earn some money, and they’ll have plenty to do after that.”

“God, Tom,” Bobby started softly, not a trace of pity in his voice, just a subtle look of sadness echoing around his eyes. “Does she ever bring johns home?”

Tommy could feel himself tense, his jaw clenching, but he found something weirdly relaxing in the idea of unloading all this on someone. “Am I telling Officer McAlister, or….”

“A friend, just… a friend. Off the record.”

“Okay,
friend
….” Tommy laughed softly, teasing, but he was starting to like the idea of it, starting to wonder why they never hung out in high school. Bobby was a couple of years older than him, but he had friends in Bobby’s year. “Sometimes, yeah. Not often, but… it’s happened.”

“That’s not good, shit.”

“That’s news? I know it ain’t good.”

“That bang-up out here a few months back, that guy you were fighting with…?”

“Yeah, Cheryl brought him home. Guess the guy didn’t wanna pay for a no-tell motel, and he started sniffing around Colleen, wouldn’t let up, so I had to put him in his place.”

Bobby’s laugh was slightly sardonic. “You broke his jaw with a crowbar.”

“Well, you try to turn my sister into a whore, and apparently your place is on the floor in a small puddle of your own blood.” Tommy laughed, but he wasn’t joking.

“Fair enough.” Bobby nodded his head as though he secretly agreed. “Why not just report it?”

“And have CPS crawling up my ass? You seen them, the way they are, there’s no way in hell I’d keep the kids.” They both knew he couldn’t petition for custody as things were, and Bobby didn’t even ask. “Just got a few more years like this. I got it all planned, ya know? Colleen can finish school, maybe get a good job when she gets out, Mikey same thing. Then the three of us, we’ll have enough money and good-enough jobs, and maybe then we can get the kids. Three adults looking after the other five.”

“Might work.” Bobby sounded tired and frustrated. “Lot of shit to go through till then, though.”

Tommy tensed again. “Well, they’re worth it.”

“I meant for them. Colleen is, what? Sixteen?”

“Seventeen the other day.” Tommy didn’t like where the conversation was headed.

“Okay, seventeen.” Bobby nodded. “When’s the last time she had a date or went to a school dance or a party? Or Mikey? And Davey
likes
stealing shit, you can see it in him already, he’s an adrenaline junkie. Carrie acts like a little mother for the other three, all the time wishing she had one of her own….”

Tommy’s hackles were rising, partly because what Bobby said was true. “You ask them. Ask Colleen or Mikey if they’d rather be out partying and getting laid or going to a movie with friends. Ask them if they’d have a good time doing that shit if they knew their little sisters and brothers were in a state home or being left to Cal and Cheryl. Ask them yourself, ’cause I already know the answer.”

“I know the answer too, Tom. I’m just saying there has to be another way.”

“Well, from where I sit, it’s this or foster care. When you come up with door number three, you let me know.”

“Foster care isn’t always—”

“If you wanna be my
friend
, you better stop right there.” Tommy sat up taller and edged closer to the twins. “You know what happened when we went to foster care, genius?” Bobby shook his head, looking abashed as Tommy went on. “Mike and Davey were treated like fucking slaves, didn’t eat anything but grits and potatoes because the woman took the money she got from the state for them and played it at the track. Colleen ended up with some pervert that made her sit on his lap while he watched porn and felt her up—ask
her
why she doesn’t date—and fuck only knows what happened to Carrie and Collin, because they were so goddamn young they wouldn’t even know
what
to tell me if there was something to tell. So you can take your foster care and shove it up your ass, Officer.”

After a long silence, Bobby shook his head again. “I’m…. Christ, I didn’t know, Tom. I…. My parents took in foster kids when I was younger, it was… nice.
We
were nice. They loved it there, I….”

“Well, it’s luck of the draw, and as you can see, we’re short on luck around here.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Foster is off the table permanently, okay? I had no idea how bad it was for them, just….”

“It’s all right.” The words came out as a growl, but that was partly because Tommy’s head really
did
hurt and he was tired down to his bones. He got off the couch and started cleaning up after the twins. He went into the kitchen to put their antibiotics in the refrigerator so he could get them ready for their nap.

Bobby came in after him. “Anything I can do to…?”

Tommy huffed a laugh, thinking he’d actually scared Bobby out of saying the word
help
. “Know how to change a diaper?” he asked over his shoulder as he started loading the dishwasher. “It’s almost time for their naps, mine too for that matter, but I gotta clean up in here. Can’t leave it like this for Colleen.”

Looking shocked when Tommy allowed him to actually do something useful, like it was a privilege, Bobby asked immediately, “Where’s the stuff?”

“Oh, uh.” Tommy turned around, his hands wet, water dripping on the floor as he pointed across the kitchen to a small cabinet. “Wipes and diapers and ointment and stuff are all over there. You can just change ’em on the floor. We’re not real picky about that.”

“No problem.” Bobby beamed as he gathered the supplies.

Tommy rolled his eyes.

B
Y
THE
time the kitchen was done and everything back where it belonged, Tommy emerged to find the living room empty. He felt a quick bolt of panic until he saw Bobby padding down the stairs in his bare feet and the flannel shirt he’d been wearing earlier stripped off. A crisp white T-shirt covered his trim, well-defined chest. “You should have warned me that Max likes to pee
after
his diaper is off.”

Tommy shouldn’t have laughed, but he did. “Gotcha good, did he?”

“Oh yeah, you’ll be washing my shirt for me.”

Tommy pointed at the hamper in the hall. “Throw it on the pile.”

He started to pass Bobby to head upstairs, but Bobby stopped him. “They’re asleep. I put the rail up and left the door open so you’ll hear them.”

“Oh.” He was disappointed and didn’t have a chance to hide it. “I usually read to them in the afternoon, settles ’em down. Did they fuss?”

“Not a bit, but Zoe reached for a book when she got her clothes changed. I took the cue, they didn’t miss their story.”

“Well,” Tommy tried to joke. “Now I’ll never know how Goldilocks fares.”

“Happily ever after, I promise.” Bobby flashed him a teasing smile as he sat back down on the couch.

Tommy eyed him for a moment. “Make yourself at home,” he said sarcastically, but joined Bobby on the other end of the couch.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Bobby was grinning again, his fingers laced behind his head, resting, legs stretched out comfortably.

“I can see that.” The silence in the room was peaceful, not awkward or heavy, and Tommy had to spend a few minutes reminding himself Bobby was still more cop than friend and—despite how incredibly good-looking he was—most likely straight. “How’s your mom doin’ now? I mean, after your dad and all.”

Bobby looked surprised at the question, but answered, “She’s better. It was hard at first, ya know? Thirty-six years of marriage and being alone suddenly…. But it’s been over a year and she’s doing pretty good now.”

“Because Sonny Boy swooped in and made a difference,” Tommy pointed out, part teasing, part admiring.

Bobby laughed rather than take offense. “That’s right. Officer Swooper rescued Ma from….” His joke died on his lips and it looked to Tommy as if whatever he had been about to say would have hit too close to home. “Well, whatever I saved her from. Just glad she’s still around to look after.”

“Wanna trade?” Tommy teased, nudging Bobby with his toe, having kicked his shoes off earlier.

A little snort of laughter that Tommy was starting to find far too endearing slipped out. “Over my dead body.” Bobby shifted so he was facing Tommy now. “What happened to your mom, anyway? I know Cheryl is just… whatever she is.”

“Died of an overdose when I was—” He paused for a minute, squinting as he tried to remember. “—almost thirteen. Collin had just been born and as soon as she had him, she went on a real bender.”

“She stayed clean when she was pregnant? That’s impressive.” Bobby’s expression told Tommy how much he meant it.

“Well, clean
ish
, I guess. I know she still drank a little and smoked pot, probably just enough to keep the cravings down. She wasn’t like Cheryl. I mean, she was a fucked-up mess too, but she
did
love us, wanted good things for us. Pop too, when we were little, but Jesus, addiction. What are ya gonna do?”