Page 9 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

A genuine bark of laughter slipped from Bobby before he said seriously, “If I thought I could do that and keep my balls for New Year’s, I would.”

“I know what you coppers make. You don’t have that kind of cash lyin’ around. And I would have your balls for it.” The image sent a quick spark of heat through Tommy, and he could feel himself flush at it, glad he was looking straight ahead with his face tipped down to avoid the rain, which was getting heavier. He could hear Bobby mumble something next to him but didn’t catch it. He hoped it was at least the end of the debate. “Where’s your car?” he asked suddenly, wondering why the guy was walking when the sky looked ready to storm.

“Back at the bakery. I felt like a walk.”

“More like you felt like harassing me.”

“That too.” Bobby laughed softly, amused.

Tommy hadn’t realized how far they’d gotten. They were nearly home now. “Speaking of, how the hell did you afford that car on your wages? You on the take, copper?” he asked as they turned up the walkway to the house.

Bobby practically snorted at that. “Me? Seriously?” He stepped up to the porch as he reached down to help lift the stroller up the front stairs. “I, uh… I live with Mom, so I have some disposable income.”

Tommy stopped halfway up the steps and laughed out loud. “You live with your mother?”

It was Bobby’s turn to narrow his eyes. “It’s not like that.” He tugged the stroller so Tommy would move again. The two of them lifted the babies and their ride up easily to the porch. “When Dad died, she was having a hard time—lonely, couldn’t keep the house up by herself—so I moved back in.”

Unlocking the front door, Tommy pushed it open and went to get Max out of the stroller, but Bobby already had the boy in his arms. He picked up Zoe instead. “Don’t you have brothers and sisters that could help out?” he asked, trying not to feel as curious as he actually was.

“Nope, just me. They always wanted a big family, but I was all they got.”

“Not such a bad deal,” Tommy murmured to himself. He stopped in his tracks when he found Cheryl and Cal still facedown on the floor at nearly noon. “Christ,” he whispered, the sound of defeat and frustration hanging in the air as he exhaled. He let Bobby in and closed the door. “Get up.” Tommy tapped Cal with his foot. “Lazy fuckin’… Christ, what I wouldn’t give….” He continued to mutter to himself as he made his way through the house, setting Zoe down with a small pile of toys in the living room.

“Did you bring my money back, Tommy?” Cheryl asked. She got up onto her knees and looked around the room like it hurt to be alive. Her bleached blonde hair was matted down on one side of her face and her shirt hung open over her sagging tits and ratty bra.

“No, I gave it to the doctor so your kids could get their shots.” The house reeked of vomit and it hit him like a punch even from six feet away. “Did you use the can we left for ya?”

Cheryl blinked in confusion and then tipped the can to look inside. “Guess so,” she muttered. “Where’s my money, Tommy? You can’t just steal from me.” She looked at Bobby. “He’s a cop, ain’t he? You, tell him to give me my money back.”

“She can’t even remember their fucking names half the time, but me taking her money to pay for the doc, that she remembers,” Tommy growled to Bobby as he went to the kitchen.

Bobby still held Max like he didn’t trust to put him down near Cheryl. Tommy heard him ask her, “Uh… do you have proof of having had money? Proof of where you got it?”

“What?” she asked, confused, her head obviously still spinning.

“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.”

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