I hold out the bouquet, and she takes it with a brief nod,bringing the flowers to her nose for a quick, unimpressed sniff before lowering them again. Her gaze slides past me to Jhene. Her expression shifts from weary to guarded.
“Who’s this?”
“This is Jhene.” I rest my hand on the small of Jhene’s back. “My girlfriend.”
Ma’s sparse eyebrows jump. “Your girlfriend?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Since when do you have a girlfriend?” she grills. Her blue eyes sweep up and down Jhene, hardly disguising the scrutiny in them. “You’ve never been much for dating, Killian. Too busy with your... other activities.”
For her part, Jhene handles it better than I thought she would. She’s been honest about not exactly being a people person and preferring to avoid any situation involving socializing.
But she simply smiles politely and extends her hand. “Hi, Mrs. Rourke. It’s great to meet you. Happy birthday.”
Ma stares at Jhene’s outstretched hand before giving it a brief, limp shake. “Mmhmm. Well… come in, I suppose.”
The apartment’s as depressing as I remember. It hasn’t changed in the last fifteen years since I got the hell out of here and went to live on my own.
Cracks zig-zag down the walls. The carpet’s stained and matted and some weird brown-gray color signaling how much dirt it’s infested with. Stenches like cigarette smoke and fried food cling to the air. The cigarettes courtesy of Ma. The fried food smells a markerhestill lives here.
A couple footsteps inside, my gaze pans the living room and finds him parked in his usual spot in front of the TV.
Colm Rourke sits slumped in a worn-down armchair, his vacant eyes fixed on the TV screen where a rerun ofThe Price is Rightplays ata low volume.
He doesn’t look up when we enter. He probably doesn’t even have the ability to process that we have.
My father’s as good as braindead.
He can only string together a handful of sentences and often drools on himself because he leaves his mouth hanging open for too long (slobber Ma happily wipes up).
I’mthe one who made him like this. Beat him so badly his brain never fully recovered. Yet even so many years later, I don’t feel an ounce of guilt about it.
“Sit down if you want,” Ma says, gesturing vaguely toward the sagging couch. “I’d offer you something to drink but I haven’t made it to the store yet this week.”
“We’re fine.” I pull the card from my back pocket and hold it out to her. “Here. Figured this might help.”
She opens the envelope and peers inside. The lines on her brow deepen, and her nostrils curl as if catching whiff of a repugnant smell. You’d think I handed her an envelope full of dog shit the way she reacts.
She slaps the envelope against my chest for me to take back. “I told you before, Killian. We don’t need your money.”
I heave an irritated sigh, grabbing the envelope before it slides to the floor. “Ma, will you just take the damn money? Buy yourself something nice. Get the carpet cleaned. I don’t care what you do with it. It’s yours.”
“We get by just fine on my salary from the drugstore. We don’t needcharity.”
I catch Jhene’s eye and shake my head to express my frustration. She gives my arm a sympathetic squeeze though she remains silent and stays out of it.
She obviously gets these family dynamics are complex.
One glance around the apartment—at the fucking water stains and mold and occasional roach that scuttles by—and anybody with sense would agree Ma’s delusional.
They need all the help they can get.
They’re already receiving some of it, even if they don’t realize it. I pay half their rent and have for years. Every time their landlord raises it, I discreetly make up the difference and more. Otherwise, they would’ve been put out on the street a long time ago.
I gesture to the ancient refrigerator humming like it’s on its last lifeline. “This is just fine? You’re living in a dump, Ma.”
“We live like this because your father can’t work,” she snaps. She glances over at the armchair where Colm sits staring at a car insurance commercial. “I do what I can on what the drugstore pays me. It would be different if he could still contribute, but he can’t, can he?”
