“Of course I’ve got a larder full of food,” she said indignantly. “But nothing for picky bits. I can hardly offer up a bowl of colcannon now. I’ll need to make some sausage rolls, a barmbrack, and some soda bread. I can hardly have people around and not offer them a snack. What kind of host would that make me?”
“Jesus Christ, Ma,” I groused.
“Stop taking the Lord's name in vain, ya little fecker, or I’ll give you a clip around the earhole,” she warned. “Now do as your mammy tells you.”
Rosie rolled her lips together to stop herself from laughing, while I sighed heavily and turned the car toward Main Street.
“You’re a good boy,” Ma said proudly, looking down at the kiddo. “Your daddy’s a good boy, isn’t he, Imogen? Yes, he is... he’s lovely to his mammy.”
I glanced at Rosie to see her shoulders shaking in silent laughter.
Fuck my life.
—————
Mam was right;the entire town did descend on her house.
In fact, by five o’clock, you couldn’t move in her kitchen; every chair and stool had an ass parked on it, so she sent me out to the back yard to grab the stack of plastic garden chairs she kept in the shed.
Ma and Rosie, the Speed Demons’ old ladies, Martha from the bakery slash coffee shop, Tristan, and Emmie were in the kitchen cooing over Imogen, so I decided to head into the yard, where the men stood around drinking beer and shooting the shit.
After checking on Imogen, I grabbed some water from the fridge and headed out back, where somebody had the bright idea of lighting the grill.
The officers, along with John and Abe, stood with Atlas, who had his phone to his ear and a hand on his hip as he surveyed the grill. “We need steaks, brisket, chicken, ribs, and hot dogs,” he ordered. “And stop at the Shamrock and pick up a few crates of beer and cider.” He paused while whoever he had on the line said something before barking, “Well go see Arrow then. Jesus, Cub, use some gumption. If you’ve got no green, get it outta petty cash. We’re Speed Demons; we can afford a few hundredbucks to get some fuckin’ meat, boy.” Another pause, then Atlas growled, “If he gives you any shit, tell him to call me. Get it? Got it? Good.” And with that, he disconnected, shaking his head, obviously pissed. “That new prospect needs to get off his momma’s tit. I’m surprised he doesn’t break a finger wipin’ his own ass.”
“Cub’s okay,” Bowie protested good-naturedly. “He’s just young for his age. A few months with us and he’ll soon mature.”
“That’s debatable,” Abe muttered. “You’re all like fuckin’ toddlers.”
“You’re not wrong,” John agreed. “We’ve seen these shitheads do some bullshit over the years, right, Abe?”
“Right, Dagger,” Abe concurred.
“Bet you’ve done worse,” Breaker muttered from his place next to Bowie and Cash.
John folded his arms across his chest. “I was sent to fuckin’ war at the age of twenty-one. Went MIA, presumed dead, and imprisoned in a fuckin’ cave for months on end. Then I came back and began buying land and setting up what you affectionately call the clubhouse. Believe me, the shithole that your grandpa Bandit ran the club from before I stepped in would make your damned hair curl. You’re all pampered pussies compared to what Abe and I had to put up with back in the day.”
“Your pop’s been known to exaggerate his shit at times,” Abe put in. “But he’s not wrong. That place was a fuckin’ dump, and once your grandma Connie, God rest her soul, passed away, it only got worse.”
“Why d’ya think I bought the industrial estate and all the land down by the creek?” Dagger muttered. “Wouldn’t have put a fucking dog in that old barn, let alone my boys.”
“It’s the reason why all the brothers at the time helped ya build, Dag,” Abe returned. “We wanted more and we wanted better. It’s why we retired the old timers along with the onepercent diamond and opened legit businesses. We didn’t wanna live like outlaws. It was destructive. Too many wars, and too many brothers either dead or incarcerated, and their families torn apart.”
John studied Abe and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “We did good, didn’t we, Abe?”
Abe raised a hand to clasp John’s shoulder, his voice husky when he replied, “Yeah, Dagger. We did good.”
Cash gazed at the two men, his eyes shining with hero-worship.
Breaker clutched the back of his neck, looking down at his boots.
Bowie ran a thumb across his lip absentmindedly as he took in the scene.
“Yo! Maureen!” Atlas bellowed. “You’re lookin’ pretty as a picture. Bein’ a grandma suits ya. Now, come over here with that girl and let her meet her uncle Atlas. Haven’t managed to get a fuckin’ look-in with all you women going nuts over her.”
I craned my neck to see Mam approaching us with Imogen in her arms. Her cheeks warmed, and she let out a girlish giggle as she looked up at Atlas through her lashes. “Now behave yourself, Daniel. You’re such a charmer.”
I tipped my head back, gazing at the sky, and muttered, “Fuck me!”
