Blow(46)

I wanted Clementine to grow up in an environment like this. Not one where order ruled over chaos and one man reigned supreme.

“Will you take her tomorrow?” Erin asked, jostling me from my thoughts.

I lifted Clementine from her seat. “Take her where?” I asked.

“To church. I know Michael tries not to miss a Sunday.”

“I don’t typically attend Mass with him.”

“Oh,” was her only response.

I didn’t add that I gave up on God a long time ago.

Clementine put her hands on my cheeks, reminding me that this wasn’t my dark past. I shook off my thoughts and looked at her. “Let’s get you changed, silly girl.”

Erin was patting the baby’s back.

“Is his reflux any better?” I asked.

Just then, projectile vomit answered my question. Erin grabbed a burp cloth and wiped the baby’s mouth. “Not at all.” She juggled the baby and cloth without frazzle or tears.

“Can I help?” I offered.

She shook her head. “No. Clementine’s diaper bag is on the couch in the family room. There’s a pair of pajamas in there and a change of clothes, but I have to warn you, she didn’t take a nap. She was too busy watching the boys.”

Erin was no-nonsense and had all her ducks in a row.

“Thanks for the warning.” I smiled.

Clementine was pointing to the milk on the floor. “Messy,” she said.

With a laugh, I leaned my forehead to her. “Speaking of messy, little miss, pajama time for you.”

Erin had Taigh laid across her thighs and was patting his back again. “You’re good with her, you know.”

I looked at her and how good she was with her kids and then at Clementine’s smiling face. “You think?”

The baby burped again, and this time Erin caught the small blob of spit-up with the cloth diaper in her hand. “No, I don’t think, I know. I can see it. Elizabeth always seemed afraid around her, like she might break her. But you’re different.”

I shrugged. “Isn’t everyone?”

She cradled Taigh in her arms. “Yes, that’s true. I’m sure when Elizabeth returns she’ll embrace motherhood. Any word of when that might be?”

The lies were getting to me.

I couldn’t answer her because I had no idea if Lizzy would return and, if she did, what kind of shape she’d be in. I shook my head. “I’m going to get her changed now so I can pop her straight into bed if she falls asleep in the car.”

Erin stood and set the baby in the bouncy seat on the counter. “Elle.”

I turned back.

“I don’t think I’ve told you how much I admire you.”

“Me? Why?”

She picked up some dirty dishes from the table. “You put your life on hold and moved here to help take care of your sister’s daughter. Not everyone would do that.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That’s just it, Erin. I didn’t put my life on hold.” I kissed Clementine. “I started living it.” I didn’t explain any further. I couldn’t. Some emotions were too painful to discuss.

On shaky legs, I turned and left her in the kitchen as she bent to clean up the vomit on the floor.

The family room was quiet, but I could hear water splashing upstairs and Erin talking to Braden and Taigh as she cleaned up.

Their house was messy but it was anything but a mess.

It was filled with laughter, not tears.

It made my heart warm to know Clementine was part of a family that was happy.

And that’s the way every child’s life should be.





LOGAN


The place smelled like piss.

Brighton House was the top facility for elder care in Boston.

And it still smelled like piss.

I hated coming here and hated not, in equal measure.

Gramps didn’t really have to be here, but after his last fall, my uncle insisted on it. Uncle Hunter is my father’s older brother. He was the one who’d been able to stay away. He went to college, and then made his own way, free and clear of his Blue Hill Gang ties. My father had done the same. That is, until my stupidity drew him in. I was the only reason he was pulled into a world my grandfather didn’t want him to be a part of. And I lived with that guilt every day.

Gramps didn’t try to stop it, though.

He couldn’t.

Rules were rules.

A life for a life—dead or alive.

I wasn’t there for the conversation my father had with Killian, but I was certain it went something like it’s either him or me.

Maybe that was why Gramps didn’t try harder to fight it.

Nobody could have seen what was coming. That Patrick owning my father would bring my grandfather down. Looking back now, it seems so obvious. Once Patrick had my father, Gramps was under his thumb. With the tables turned, Patrick moved quickly, merging the smaller Dorchester Heights Gang with the infamous Blue Hill Gang. That’s when he unofficially began running things. Gramps was the boss by declaration, but everyone knew Patrick made the decisions.

I stood in the doorway to Gramps’s room and just watched him for a few minutes. His mind was sharper than a tack. But sadly, it was his body that was giving out. After years of fighting, I don’t know how many gunshot wounds, and myriad broken bones, he had a hard time getting around.