Part 17 (1/2)

”f.u.c.k the police!”

There were shocked t.i.tters in the audience. I saw the horrified faces of parents and laughter from the kids. I grinned and opened my mouth, about to say something else equally offensive, when they dropped the curtain. Thus ended my dramatic career.

Let me tell you, that got my parents' attention, very effectively. And I learned another very important fact from that experience. Girls think it's hot when you break the rules. I was grounded for a month, but it was worth it, because I lost my virginity in the art supply closet three days later with Hannah O'Reilly, a hot little redheaded number who thought my performance was worthy of an Oscar.

So, anyway. After that, I was trouble. And the more trouble I was, the more girls were hanging around. I didn't understand it, but I sure as h.e.l.l took advantage. But the one thing I counted on, the one thing that was a constant in my life, even as my trouble got worse and worse, was my mother. I counted on her being there. I counted on her loving me. I counted on her presence. My dad and I were at war-especially by the time I turned sixteen. We fought, we yelled. He would scream at me to get myself under control. I'd push and provoke and pull until he had no patience left. But my mother always calmed us down, always got things back under control, even while she struggled with trying to help Sean.

But then one day, not long after my sixteenth birthday, she was just ... gone. And I didn't see her again until I was almost twenty years old.

Sometimes, deep down, I know that her leaving? It was my fault. Like I said to Dad, I've done a fair amount of growing up since then.

That's why, even though I'd been refusing to call her, I smiled at my mom and gave her a hug when she arrived at the front door.

”I've missed you,” she said. ”You look so ... larger than life now.”

I told I'd missed her, which wasn't true. I didn't say a word about her appearance. She looked much more together than the last time I'd seen her, but my mom still looks a good fifteen or twenty years older than Dad does, which doesn't make a lot of sense, because he's a lot older than her. Her hair went grey years ago, and she has deep creases around her mouth and forehead. I don't think I can remember the last time I saw her smile.

”h.e.l.lo, Sean,” she said. He was on the couch, still reading his book, and didn't look up and acknowledge her.

I was used to this. Sean just didn't engage people the way the rest of us do. But my mother's face fell, and I could tell she was hurt and disappointed. I hoped he'd say something to her before the night was over.

I was still standing there, awkwardly, with my mother, when Julia walked up to the front door. She wore a knee-length black coat and scarf, with gleaming black boots with heels that looked none too safe. Her hair was done up in some kind of fancy braided up-do thing, and the only spot of color on her was a bright pink scarf. I took a deep breath as she approached. Her cheeks were slightly red from the cold, and the color inevitably led to speculation of what she'd look like in bed. I wanted to know, very badly.

She didn't meet my eyes, which was a shame, because I really wanted to get a closer look.

”Hey,” she said, a little breathlessly.

”Mom? This is my friend Julia.”

Julia's eyes widened a little, and my mom turned to her and said, ”Well, h.e.l.lo, Julia. I'm Margot.”

Just Like Always (Julia) ”So where are you from?” Margot asked as Crank closed the door behind us. The usual awkward question, which I never have a prepared answer for, though I should, since I've been asked a thousand and one times. One strategy, which I used this time while pulling off my coat, was to intentionally misunderstand.

”Oh, I live in Cambridge, I'm a student.”

Crank reached to take my coat and I said, ”Wait-” and reached in the huge side pocket and took out my gift for Sean, then pa.s.sed it to him. ”Thanks,” I said, as he took both his mother's coat and mine and hung them up. Weird. You don't expect punk rockers to be so polite.

Margot stopped near the couch, looking at Sean, and the look of sadness and longing on her face was indescribable. But she didn't say anything.

My heart nearly shattered for her when Sean said, ”Hey, Julia.”

I didn't know why Sean and Crank hated their mother, but what had just happened was heartbreaking. I wanted to start crying, but instead, I mumbled, ”Hey.”

Margot and I followed Crank into the kitchen, and there I saw what was probably the strangest scene I've ever seen between a separated couple. Because Jack turned around, and his eyes lit up when he saw Margot. The two of them stepped close, a little hesitantly, and then embraced in a long, uxorious hug. His arms wrapped around her waist, tight, while hers went around his shoulders. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, and I saw her shoulders lower slightly as she let out a long, quiet sigh.

A tall man with salt and pepper hair was sitting at the kitchen table. When we walked in, he stood, smiling hesitantly, then when Jack and Margot finally stepped back from each other, he said, ”Margot, it's good to see you.” Then he turned toward me. ”And you must be Dougal's girlfriend.”

Crank muttered something, probably seriously obnoxious, and I said in as sweet a tone as I could muster, ”Actually, we're barely even friends. I'm Julia.” I held out a hand to shake.

Jack burst into laughter, and the other guy chuckled and took my hand. ”I'm Tony, the token Italian in this nuthouse. And please don't take offense, but I'm single, and you're just about the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. If you and Dougal aren't a thing, well ...”

”Tony D'Amato!” Margot said in a scolding voice. ”She's young enough to be your daughter!”

Tony grinned, and I tried to stifle the furious blush I could feel running down my face.

”A man can still wish, even if he's all old and broken down!”

I didn't know how to react to any of this, especially since the object of the party-Sean-was sitting alone in the other room. For just a second, I felt intense embarra.s.sment at Tony's comments. Then I let that pa.s.s. He was teasing. Much like Jack, he'd instantly accepted me here. And that made me suddenly feel a p.r.i.c.k of tears in my eyes. I blinked them back.

”Beer?” Tony asked me.

”Yes, please,” I replied.

Jack shook his head and said to Margot, ”You see what happens when you let Italians in the house? They start going through your things and giving them away.”

Margot giggled, and in that moment, she looked fifteen years younger. She had stepped away from Jack but kept a hand on his shoulder. Tony handed her a beer without even asking.

”Few more minutes,” Jack said. ”I told Sean I'd cook him whatever he wanted tonight. No food restrictions. No nothing. What does he do? Asks for pizza. Delivered.”

”Are you sure that's a good idea?” Margot asked.

Jack shrugged. ”It's the kid's seventeenth birthday. Let him eat what he wants.”

She nodded, the pensive expression returning to her face. We were crowded there in the kitchen, so I slipped around the table and sat next to Tony. ”Since you made such a gentlemanly offer, the least I can do is keep you company,” I said. Then I fluttered my eyelashes at him outrageously.

He nearly spit up his beer laughing, then cried out, ”Jack, help me! This one's beating me at my own game.”

I grinned at him. ”So, I'm trying to keep everyone straight. Tony, right? Friend of the family? Relative?”

”G.o.d forbid I'd be related to any of these drunken micks,” he said. ”I just come here for the free beer.”

”Ah, shut up!” Jack said.

Tony ignored him. ”Jack and I have been partners on the force for what, ten years now?”

”It's been like a life sentence,” Jack replied, his tone sounding weary.

Tony laughed. ”Originally I says to the Captain, 'Don't make me partner with that guy, he'll run off and get drunk right in the middle of a high speed chase,' but then I met Margot, and she was so easy on the eyes, I figured I could survive Jack if I got to see her every once in a while. Plus, if Whitey's mafia ever offed him, I'd be able to run off with her into the sunset.”

Margot smiled, her eyes straying back to Jack. ”You two are so bad.”

Crank didn't say a word, just leaned against a wall while slowly nursing a beer. And something just ... didn't add up. It was plainly obvious, from the way they touched each other, the way they looked at each other, the way they talked to each other, that Margot and Jack still loved each other pa.s.sionately.

Why the h.e.l.l were they separated then?

It didn't make any sense at all.

The doorbell rang.

”Ah, that'll be our last guest, Mrs. Doyle.”