DECEMBER 17, 1994
“I KNOW YOUR SISTER” WERE THE FIRST WORDS THAT CAME OUT OF MY SISTER’S MOUTH when Lizzie’s sister stepped foot through our door on the last Saturday before Christmas. “She’s my best friend at school, but Gerard’s my best friend at home.”
“Is that so?” Caoimhe laughed, allowing Claire to drag her upstairs to see her doll collection.
“We’ll be home for half one,” Mam told me, while applying her lipstick in the mirror. “If you need anything or feel unhappy about something, I want you to call Sadhbh, okay?”
“I’m not calling Sadhbh,” I replied, scrunching my nose up in disgust. “She’s got that man sleeping over again.”
“Hugh,” Mam admonished. “It’s not our business, remember?”
“Yeah, whatever, but Joe’s way better,” I grumbled.
“You would say that,” she chuckled. “He’s your godfather who spoils you rotten.”
“No, I’m saying it because it’s the truth,” I shot back with a huff. “I’ll call Joe if I need a grown-up.”
“Joe has the kids this weekend,” Mam reminded, adjusting her dress. “So please just call Sadhbh if you need to.”
“I’ll call Grandad Healy and that’s my final offer,” I replied, standing firm.
“Fine, you can call Grandad,” Mam conceded with a chuckle. “Oh, and Caoimhe asked if her Mark Allen can come over to watch a movie when you guys are gone to bed. I told her that he could but has to leave by eleven, so just keep an eye on everything, okay?”
“Mark Allen?” I gaped at my mother. “As in Sadhbh’s boyfriend’s son?”
“Hugh.”
“Ugh!” I growled, scowling “Why would anyone want to watch a film with him?”
“That’s not your business, either.”
I’d met Mark a few times and Gibs wasn’t lying when he said the guy was a creep. He thought he was so much tougher and cooler than us because he was a teenager, when in fact, all he was better at doing was being a fucking creep. “I hate that guy!”
“Hugh!”
“You taught me not to lie, Mam,” I reminded her.
“I also taught you to have manners,” she shot back with a smirk. “Now, I know Caoimhe’s the babysitter, but you’re the man of the house when Dad’s not home, so I expect you to look after your sister.”
“Jesus, Mam, you look beautiful,” I told her, eyeing the tight, sparkly red dress she had on. “You’re way skinnier than I thought you were.”
“Why thank you, son,” Mam chuckled, squeezing my cheek. “What a little charmer you are.”
“He gets that from his old fella,” Dad chimed in, appearing from the kitchen with both his and Mam’s coats flung over his arm. “Right, love, let’s get cracking. The taxi’s outside.”
“Wait, wait, wait, I think I’ve forgotten something,” Mam laughed as he carted her to the door. “I need to kiss my babies before we go.”
“Your big baby is right here,” Dad drawled, opening the front door and lifting Mam down the porch steps. “And you can kiss him in the taxi.”
“Ugh,” I groaned, slamming the door behind them. “Good riddance.”
Two hours later, I had to admit that being babysat by Caoimhe Young was way better than Mrs. Grady. I felt bad for thinking it, but it was the truth. Caoimhe had plenty of energy to keep up with Claire, which meant that I didn’t have to chase her around the house in case she was on the loose, had the scissors, or had gotten into Mam’s makeup. Instead, Caoimhe did all those things while I got to play my computer game in peace.
“We made you cookies,” Claire squealed, blowing my bedroom door inward then, and I mentally cursed myself for being a jinx. Goddammit. “Come on, Hugh. Come downstairs and taste them.”
I didn’t want to eat anything my sister had put her grubby, little fingers on. I was all too familiar with the creepy crawlies that she collected in jars with Gibs, but knowing Claire, she would try to feed them to me in my sleep if I didn’t give in. It was a battle I couldn’t win, so I switched off my game and trudged downstairs to the kitchen.
As I expected, the cookies looked like something the neighbor’s dog shat out, but I picked one up and took a bite to placate the curly-haired demon pirouetting around the kitchen.
“Mm,” I mumbled, rubbing my stomach. “It’s delicious.” It wasn’t, but it wasn’t terrible either. “Good job.”
Caoimhe rolled her eyes and laughed. “My sister was right; you are sweet.”
My cheeks reddened and I practically choked down my mouthful of cookie to answer her. “Liz said I was sweet?”
“Uh-huh.” Grinning, she leaned her hip against the island and dried her hands with the tea towel. “Among other things.”
“Like what?” I blurted out, trying and failing to play it cool. “I mean, uh, she said stuff about me?”
“Aw, look at you blushing over my sister,” Caoimhe crooned. “This is too cute.”
“Hugh’s in love,” Claire chimed in then. “He wants to smooch your sister.”
“Claire!” I snapped, feeling my face grow hotter. “Stop it. You know I don’t.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Claire teased, while she danced over to our babysitter. “He’s always asking me questions about her.”
“Oh really?” Caoimhe’s eyes danced with mischief. “What kind of questions, Claire?”
“Like what’s her favorite color, and does she like dinosaurs, and who’s her favorite author, and does she talk about him at school,” my sister replied with a snicker. “He even draws her pictures, and writes little notes, and makes me bring them to school for her.”
Groaning, I fought the urge to run upstairs and die from my shame in private.
“Lizzie draws pictures for Hughie, too,” Claire continued, spilling my secrets, as she led Caoimhe into the lounge. “And she writes notes with love hearts on them, and I have to bring them home for him.”
“Omigod,” Caoimhe gushed, sinking down on the couch next to Claire. “That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I think Hughie is Lizzie’s boyfriend,” Claire offered. “Like Gerard is my boyfriend.”
“No, I’m not,” I argued, feeling all sweaty and awkward, as I hovered in the archway. “And Gibsie isn’t yours, either.” I shook my head, feeling flustered. “He’s just a boy who’s your friend. Same as me and Liz.”
“Nuh-uh, Hughie,” my sister argued back, gesturing for me to come and sit next to her. “Gerard says he’s going to marry me when I’m a big girl.”
“Aw.” Caoimhe laughed. “My little Gibs told you he would marry you?”
“Yep.” Claire smiled proudly. “Except we’re getting kittens after the honeymoon and not bull guns.”
“Shoot me,” I muttered, sinking down on the couch. “Seriously.”
“Do you have one?” Claire asked then, climbing onto her lap. “A boyfriend?”
“Yep, I sure do,” Caoimhe replied, smiling. “Actually, I think you guys might know my boyfriend: Mark Allen.”
“Ew.” Claire reared back, looking horrified. “Just ew.”
Caoimhe laughed. “You don’t approve?”
My sister shook her head. “His daddy was kissing Gerard’s mammy when he wasn’t supposed to,” she explained, scrunching her little nose up. “Gerard says they were being cheaters on his daddy.”
“Oh boy.” Caoimhe sighed. “Well, that’s not good, is it?”
“Nope. That’s a bad thing.”
“Sometimes grown-ups do bad things,” she agreed. “But just because the grown-ups do bad things, doesn’t mean the kids are to blame.”
Claire looked confused, but I knew exactly what she was trying to do.
“It’s not Gibsie’s fault, is it?” Caoimhe clarified in a gentle tone.
“Nope.”
“Exactly.” Caoimhe smiled at her. “Then how can it be Mark’s fault?”
This seemed to throw my sister, and she frowned. “Huh.”
I arched a disbelieving brow and snorted.
“Got something to say, Hugo Boss-Man?”
“Yeah, Gibsie’s a child,” I told her. “Mark’s a bully.”
“A bully to who?”
“Gibsie.”
Caoimhe’s eyes met mine and I could see that she didn’t believe me. “You’re wrong about him. Mark’s really great once you get to know him.”
No fucking thanks.
“Do you love him?” Claire asked, dragging our babysitter’s attention back to her. “Does he hold the door for you?”
“Yep,” she told my sister with a smile. “He does lots of nice things for me.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What kinds of nice things?”
“Right, I’m off to bed,” I declared, standing up and waving them off.
If staying up late meant listening to my babysitter gush about her asshole boyfriend to my gullible sister, then I’d rather not.
When I reached my bedroom window, I looked across the street to Gibsie’s window. It was dark. The van parked in the driveway across the street made me glad he was at his dad’s house for the weekend.
Kneeling at my bedside, I blessed myself and quickly recited my prayers before climbing into bed. It took a lot longer than usual to fall asleep, and I thought about switching on my television but decided against it. If I did that, I’d be tempted to play on my Sega, and if that happened, I’d be up all night.
A little while later, the sound of the front door opening and closing filled my ears and I strained to hear the muffled voices.
There was a male voice.
This confused me because I knew my dad’s voice and that wasn’t him.
Rolling onto my side, I tried to drift off, feeling my eyes grow heavy, but a strange feeling in my stomach gnawed at me.
That’s when my mother’s words drifted into my mind.
Mark Allen.
He was coming over to watch a movie.
Goddammit!
Throwing off the covers, I climbed out of bed and stomped downstairs to check. When I reached the lounge and locked eyes on the familiar, dark-haired teenage boy sitting on my couch, with my sister on his lap, a wave of unease washed over me.
I couldn’t explain why I felt so uncomfortable or why the hairs on the back of my neck shot up whenever I laid eyes on him. But it always happened. I felt like Peter Parker with Spidey senses, and mine told me that Mark Allen was not good. Not good at all.
“Claire!” I barked, stalking into the lounge. “No.” Not stopping until I was right in front of them, I grabbed my sister’s hand and yanked her off his lap. “You don’t sit on strangers’ laps.”
“It’s okay, though, because he’s going to be Gerard’s brother soon,” my sister explained, looking up at me with big, brown eyes. “So he’s not a stranger.”
“I don’t care.” Keeping ahold of her hand, I walked my sister to the other end of the couch and lifted her onto it before turning back around. “Don’t touch my sister again,” I warned, standing in front of her. “Not ever again.”
“Whoa, Hugh, it’s okay,” Caoimhe said from her perch beside Mark. “We were just watching a movie. Your mam said it was okay.” Smiling, she gestured to the bully with his arm around her. “Do you want to watch the film with us?”
“Are you going to bed?” I asked my sister, ignoring Mark when he tried to speak to me.
“Nope.” Claire smiled and pointed at the television. “I’m staying up for Look Who’s Talking.”
“Fine.” I nodded and plopped down beside her. “Then so am I.”
“You’re being super rude,” Claire whispered in my ear.
I knew I was, and I was worried about getting in trouble from my parents.
I tried to be good, to do the right thing, but I couldn’t stop myself tonight.
I didn’t like it.
It felt all wrong.
“Don’t sit on his lap,” I whispered back.
“How come?”
I don’t know. “Just don’t, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I mean it.” I held my pinky finger up to her. “Promise me.”
“I promise,” she replied hooking her finger around mine before proceeding to curl up in a ball on my lap.
Normally, I would kill my sister for hugging me, but not tonight.
Instead, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and kept her close.
