Page 57 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

“Yeah, they are,” Bobby agreed, pulling back to catch Tommy’s eye. “They’ve saved me from choking you a few times.”

“That’s why I keep ’em around,” Tommy teased, pulling Bobby farther away from the kitchen.

Bobby grinned. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

“Linen closet? Bathroom? I wanna test their skills at keeping your mother’s attention.”

Two days after the visit with Judy, Cheryl showed up on their doorstep. The weather was still miserably cold, and lethal-looking icicles hung from the gutters. Tommy was careful about shoveling the steps and keeping the front walkway salted, but no one in the neighborhood bothered with the sidewalks. When he found Cheryl with a bruise on her forehead, sprawled out on the wet welcome mat, he assumed she’d taken a tumble or two on her way there.

He had the twins with him. They were wearing hand-me-downs from all the other kids and a few from the neighbors. They looked like walking patchwork quilts, but they were warm. Tommy had a bag of groceries in one arm and his other hand held tightly to the leash strapped to the twins. Screw anyone who thought those things were inhuman. Letting one of them get hit by a car because they got away from him on the street would be a lot worse.

“Hey, Tommy,” Cheryl said, not in greeting so much as in complaint. “Did you change the locks or something?”

Tommy suppressed a groan as he helped Max and Zoe up the steps. Cheryl didn’t comment about how big her two kids were getting or how fast they were growing, but it didn’t surprise him. She was around so rarely they didn’t even go to her or call her “mama.” “I had to change ’em the last time you lost your keys,” he told her as he dug in his pocket for his set so he could unlock the door.

Cheryl blinked at the key in her hand and said, “Oh. Guess I found the old one.”

Tommy glanced down. “That’s a car key, Cher. Wouldn’t have worked anyway.”

“Huh. Where the hell did I get that?”

She asked the question as if she really thought he could answer it for her. Tommy assumed it belonged to some poor slob who got himself a blowjob and a bonus mugging at a rest stop outside of town somewhere, but he didn’t say it out loud. He figured the twins knew enough about their mother, they didn’t need any more information about her character.

Tommy got the door open and blocked Cheryl while Zoe and Max toddled inside. He didn’t help Cheryl up off the floor, but he did ask, “Where’s Pop?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

Several answers ran through Tommy’s head at once. You’re married to the bum… and Shit tends to attract flies… were among them, but he didn’t say anything.

“Lemme in,” she demanded. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

Tommy moved inside, and Cheryl crawled in after him. Not even two years old and her babies were steadier on their feet than her.

“Thought Cal might be here.”

“Haven’t seen him since you two flew the coop at Christmas.”

What a fucked-up two weeks that had been. Life with their father and Cheryl was always messy and loud, but it seemed even worse when everyone was happy and doing well and getting on with things until they showed up. Tommy had nearly come to blows with his father two nights before Christmas when he came home from work and found them stuffing the presents from under the tree into a big garbage bag. He knew they were both useless on many—maybe all—levels, but stealing from their own kids at Christmas seemed even lower than usual.

The next day Cal and Cheryl were gone. The presents were still there, and Tommy found something on the kitchen counter that rocked him to his core. A twenty-dollar bill sat beside a note addressed to Tommy written in his father’s shaky scrawl.

It said: It’s not much, but maybe it’ll help. Tell the kids I love them and Merry Christmas.

That had been so out of character for their old man, it had sent a chill through Tommy. It was something he might have done a decade or two earlier, back when he was still in the ballpark of shitty father and not on the outskirts of total degenerate.

Cheryl was staggering into the kitchen, and Tommy followed her. “When’s the last time you seen him?” he asked. He had an uneasy feeling now.

She dug around in the cupboards and pulled out a pack of ramen noodles. “I’m not sure.” She looked like she couldn’t remember what the next step was in preparing the food, so Tommy figured it was remarkable she’d even noticed Cal hadn’t been around. “Few days, maybe?” She started to open the plastic pouch and Tommy wondered if she was going to eat them dry right out of the package. Then she asked, “You got any candy or anything?”

By February, snow had started falling again. This time, it covered a thick sheet of ice over the roads and sidewalks. Traffic was a mess and business at the pub was slow. As usual, Gene still let Tommy work, but after a few nights in a row with very little to do, it was starting to feel like charity. He decided to take off early and head for home. Cheryl had been around more often than not, and they still hadn’t heard from their father. Tommy figured the more time he spent at home keeping an eye on things, the better.

The phone on the wall was ringing off the hook while Tommy bundled up with the scarf and gloves Judy had knitted him for Christmas. Gene was less than a foot away, pointedly ignoring it. “You want me to get that?” Tommy asked after the fifth ring. Gene rolled his eyes and looked irritated. “It’s probably just Danny. He’s called six times tonight lookin’ for his wife.”

That was a fairly usual routine and it never ended well. The last time Danny called that night, Gene had nearly ripped the phone off the wall. Having someone else blame him for a loved one’s alcohol problem probably got old quick.

Tommy felt bad for him, but he laughed when Gene walked over to the phone and lifted it from the hook before slamming it down again, hanging up on whoever had been calling.

After he’d walked a few blocks down the road, Tommy pulled out his phone. Bobby had a shift that night, and he wanted to check in. The damn thing was out of minutes, and he had no idea how long it had been like that. Tommy considered stopping at the gas station to get a phone card, but he was cold and tired. The card could wait.

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