by Chloe Walsh
62
Persuasive Fathers
Johnny
Shannon blamed me for what happened today. I fucking knew she did, and the worst part of it was knowing she was right. It was my fault. They did that to her because of me. I watched her leave school with her brother earlier, knowing full well that I needed to step in and say something to make it right, but I didn't have the words. I didn't know how to fix this for her.
Jesus Christ, I was so mad I could practically taste it.
I went to training this evening for no other reason than if I had to sit at home alone with my thoughts and feeling useless, I would lose it. It didn't help one bit to curb the fury thrashing around inside of me. I couldn't concentrate worth a damn. Throughout training, my mind was stuck on Shannon. Physio was the same. I couldn't get her out of my head. I had a little over four days to prepare for what would be the most important meeting of my life and still, I couldn't get my head in the game.
Fucking Bella.
I knew I messed up letting her go home with Darren, but short of shoving her in my car and driving away, what could I do? She said she wanted to go with him. It was a lie. Shannon never wanted to go home.
Doubt was setting in, unfamiliar and unnerving, and like usual, I began to overthink everything. I had an issue with my brain. It moved too quickly, thought up too much crazy shite, whizzed around too fast. Most of the time, I managed to remain in control with routine and structure, but I was struggling today. That phone call this morning, added with what had happened at school, had thrown my mind into a spin. Everything was up in a heap, my braincells were shot to shite, and I was second guessing everything.
When I finally parked up at the back of my house a little after nine that night, I was still bursting with energy. No amount of drills, laps, and practice plays had doused the fury blistering inside of me.
Pissed off and anxious, I grabbed my gear bag off the passenger seat and stalked inside, with every intention of hoofing down the contents of whatever Mam had cooking on the stove. However, my appetite evaporated and my feet faltered when I stepped into the kitchen and saw Joey slumped at the island with his head in his hands. Mam was sitting on the stool opposite him.
Pausing in the doorway, I watched as she pushed a cup towards him.
He didn’t take it.
"I think it does matter, Joey," Mam told him in that tone of voice she used when she was coaxing something out of us when we were kids. We being me and Gibsie, because he was the closest thing I had to a brother. "And I think you matter, too."
"You're wrong," Joey replied in a voice so low I had to strain to hear him. He glared at the coffee cup in front of him, jaw clenched, expression mistrusting and wary. "So just give up."
"Joey," Mam said gently. "You've been traveling down a very long road, love. Maybe it's time to rest those feet and let someone else carry the load for you?"
Silence.
"Let me help you."
More silence.
"Let me save you, Joey."
"You can't," he strangled out, cracking his knuckles anxiously. "There's nothing left to save, Mrs. Kavanagh. So please just stop."
Clearing my throat, I dropped my gear bag at the door and walked in. "You're out."
"Yep," Joey muttered, not bothering to lift his head.
"Oh, love, you're home." Mam offered me a smile, but it was laced with concern. "How was training?"
I gaped at her. Shit, this was bad. She never asked about training. "Grand," I replied warily. "What's going on?"
"Are you hungry, Johnny?" Mam asked, ignoring my question as she moved for the stove. "I made roast beef with pepper sauce."
Shaking my head, I walked over to the island and pulled up a stool. "Jesus," I muttered, taking in the swelling under Joey's right eye. "Cormac got you good."
"Yeah, and I got you good," he shot back, gesturing to my busted lip. "Sorry about that." Grimacing, he added, "Poor communication skills."
I shrugged it off. "So, what's happening now?"
"I'm in a bit of shit, Kav," Joey deadpanned. "That's what's happening now."
"Yeah, I gathered that much." Resting my elbows on the marble countertop, I leaned forward and studied his guarded expression. "Are you being charged?"
"He's not going to be charged with anything," Mam answered for Joey, tone confident. "Your father has made sure of that."
My brows shot up. "You're off the hook?"
Joey shrugged, looking at a complete loss. "Apparently." He gave me this strange look then and I swear I could see terror in his eyes before the shutters clamped back down and he looked away. "According to your parents."
"Where's your Ma?" I asked then, bracing myself for the backlash I knew would come with a question like that. "Did she go down to the station for you?"
Joey shot me a look that said what the fuck do you think, asshole, and in that moment, I felt a surge of sympathy flood my chest. "She's working," he explained tightly. "Couldn't get through to her phone."
"That was Principal Twomey," Dad announced, breezing into the kitchen with his phone in his hand. "The school board held an emergency meeting tonight."
I stiffened. "And?"
"And Bella will not be returning to Tommen to finish out the school year," Dad replied.
Joey blew out a harsh breath. "Thank Christ for that."
"She will be allowed to sit her leaving cert in one of the local schools, but she will not be welcome back at Tommen. Her locker has been cleared out, her phone has been confiscated, and all photos she took of Shannon have been erased," Dad explained, sliding his phone into his pocket. "Natasha O Sullivan and Kelly Dunne have both been given a week's suspension for their roles in the incident – though, due to Shannon's statements, and following a lot of discussion, it has been decided by the board that both girls will return to Tommen after their suspension, and will be permitted to sit their exams there."
"That's bullshit!" Joey and I both hissed in unison and then turned to frown at each other.
"Pick your battles, boys," Dad replied. "This is a good result." Mam handed Dad a cup of coffee and he kissed her cheek before turning his attention back to us. "Take emotion of out the equation and look at the result for what it is; a win."
"And Cormac?" I said, locking eyes with my father. "How'd you manage to pull that off? He was hell bent on pressing charges earlier."
Dad winked. "With a great deal of persuasion."
"Well, shite." I blew out a breath, impressed. "Remind me never to go against you."
"It's not all good news," Dad warned, turning his steely-blue gaze on Joey. "You have been expelled from Ballylaggin Community College. Apparently, you were on your final warning following seven suspensions this year alone and countless others tracing all the way back to your first week of first year." Dad pulled at his tie, loosening it. "I did what I could, Joey, but they're not budging. Committing an act of violence against another school while wearing your BCS uniform is against their policy and punishable by immediate expulsion."
Joey shrugged wearily. "It's okay."
"Okay?" I gaped at him. "But you're supposed to sit your leaving cert next month?"
"Doesn't matter," he muttered.
"Yeah, it does," I shot back. "It does fucking matter."
"I wasn't going anywhere anyway," he replied. "So it's all the same to me."
"What the hell, Joey?" I snapped. "This is important." Turning to my father, I asked, "Is there anything you can do for him?"
Dad sighed. "My hands are tied, son. Joey here has a record for violence that makes Gibsie look like a saint. They're unwilling to negotiate having him return to school – not even to sit his exams."
"What about Tommen?" Mam interjected.
"Tommen is private, sweetheart," Dad replied.
"Another public school then?" I offered.
"Not in the area," Dad replied. "Nothing public, at least."
"Then the city?"
"No school will touch me with a ten-
foot barge pole," Joey said flatly. "Your dad's right, Kavanagh. My record is shocking, no one's going to want me, and it doesn't matter anyway, because I don't care. So don't waste your breath talking about it."
I looked to my father who confirmed this with a small nod.
"Jesus," I muttered, dropping my head in my hands. "What a disaster."
"Can I use your bathroom, please?" Joey asked as he rose from the stool and looked at my mother.
"Of course, you can, Joey," Mam replied, tone thick. "You don't have to ask, love."
Nodding stiffly, he walked towards the hallway door, only to hesitate in the doorway. "Thank you," he said in a low voice, glancing over his shoulder. "For everything."
"No problem, Joey," Dad replied. "Remember what we said. The offer's on the table and it has no expiration date."
Nodding stiffly, Joey muttered, "I'll think about it," before disappearing down the hallway. The sound of the front door slamming reverberated through the house a few seconds later.
"Don't," Dad warned, stopping Mam who was moving for the door. "Just let him be, Edel."
"Who's going to take care of him?" Mam demanded, swinging around to glare at my father. Her eyes were full of unshed tears and her voice was thick with emotion. "Well? His own mother couldn't be arsed to show up to the Garda Station to check on him, John, and his father's a psychopath." Her shoulders sagged and she sighed heavily. "There's something very special about that boy, but he's lost, and if somebody doesn't step up and do something, he'll never find his way back."
"I hear you, sweetheart, I really do. But he's legally an adult."
"He's a child, John," Mam strangled out, sounding fiercely protective. "He's a broken, little boy, trapped in a grown man's body, and he needs us."
"Edel, I know –"
"They're not a pick and mix," Mam continued to rant, not giving my father a chance to speak. "You don't get to pick and choose your favorites and leave the rest in the box. There's five of them, and broken, bent, or out of shape, I want them all!"
"The Lynchs?" Awareness hit me smack in the chest and my jaw fell open. "You're taking them?"
"I'm taking them," Mam confirmed with a determined gleam in her eye. "All of them."
"Jesus," Dad muttered, running a hand through his hair in clear exasperation. "I don't know how I've survived living in a house with two bulldozers."
"Great food and even greater sex, that's how," Mam shot back, not missing a beat.
Dad smirked. "That's true."
"Hold the fuck up," I strangled out. "Someone please explain to me what the hell is happening here."
"Language," Mam scolded.
"If you knew the half of what was going in my head right now, you wouldn't giving out to me for saying the word fuck," I growled. "Someone start talking."
"Do you remember when we lived in Dublin?" Dad began. "The little girl who lived with us for eighteen months?"
I gaped at him. "No. What little girl?"
"He was only a toddler, John," Mam explained, sinking down on the stool next to Dad. "He wouldn't remember Rayna."
"Who?" I gaped at them. "Who the hell is Rayna?" I narrowed my eyes. "Did you two smoke something with Joey?"
"We fostered a child in Dublin," Mam explained. "Her name was Rayna. She was a year older than you, and you were mad about her."
"I find that hard to believe considering I have no fucking clue who you're talking about," I muttered under my breath.
"If you start listening to me instead of your own voice, then maybe you'll start understanding," Mam snapped.
Huffing out a breath, I gestured for her to carry on.
"We had Rayna from the age of two until just before her fourth birthday," Dad jumped in and said. "We classed her as your sister," he added. "There was no difference – not to us."
"What happened to her?"
"She was returned to her birth parents," my father replied and Mam sniffled. "It was very hard for your mother," he added, wrapping an arm around Mam. "So, we made the decision not to foster any more children. It was too hard for us – handing Rayna back after spending so much time with her."
"We considered her our daughter," Mam whispered. "Just the same as we consider you our son."
"Just the same as you consider me your son?" What the hell? I scratched the back of my head, trying to take this all in. "Are you trying to tell me that I'm adopted?"
Dad threw his head back and laughed. "No, Johnny, you're one hundred percent the fruit of my loins."
"And my eggs," Mam offered with a smirk.
"You just cost a small fortune to cook up in a lab," he added, still laughing to himself.
"Worth every penny." Mam winked. "Our little test tube baby."
What the… "That's a fucking horrendous thing to tell me," I choked out, outraged. "You make it sound like they cooked me up in a microwave and sold me down a backstreet alley!" They both laughed like my humble embryo beginnings was a big joke to them. "You know what?" I huffed out a breath. "I reckon I was adopted."
"The point we're trying to make, Johnny," Dad said, struggling to sober his features as he smothered his laugh, "Is that we have experience working with the foster care system."
"And we want to foster Shannon and her brothers," Mam came right out and told me. "We've been approved." Grabbing an envelope off the counter, she thrust it at me. "It just came through this morning."
"Tact, baby," Dad groaned, dropping his head in his hand. "In sensitive situations, you need to use a little more tact."
"You want to foster Shannon?" I asked, quite frankly stunned.
"Yes," Mam replied, not missing a beat. "And Ollie, Sean, Tadhg, and Joey."
"Wh–" I shook my head, trying to figure this out. "When did you plan this?"
"March," Mam replied.
"No," Dad coaxed. "We discussed it in March."
"We applied in March," Mam corrected. "The day after I found Shannon and Joey in our house."
"And you didn't tell me?" I demanded. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"
"We didn't want to get your hopes up. It's a long process, and we weren't sure if we would be approved, given our stage in life and our careers," Dad explained.
"You're forty-six and forty-nine," I shot back. "You're hardly over the hill."
"We also didn't want you to tell Shannon," Dad added.
"Why wouldn't I tell Shannon?" I asked, gaping at him.
"Because this is sensitive," Dad replied. "There's a process we have to follow, son. We can't just barge into their home and take them –" He paused and gave me a thoughtful look. "Well, we can't," he affirmed, gesturing to himself and Mam.
Cheeks reddening, I shrugged. "I have no regrets."
"And so you shouldn't, love," Mam agreed, reaching across the counter to pat my hand. "I would've done the exact same thing in your position."
"Jesus, Edel," Dad muttered. "At least give me a fighting chance to put the lad on the right track."
"Well, I would," she huffed. "It's that simple, love."
Shaking his head, Dad turned his attention back to me. "We have everything in order, son," he said. "But we won't make a move unless you're one hundred percent on board with this."
"When you say make a move?" I eyed him warily. "What are you planning?"
"There's a severe case of negligence in that home," Dad replied. "It's blatant child abuse, and your mother's not willing to turn a blind eye to it – and neither am I. So, if I have to play dirty in order prove it and get those children out of that environment, then that's exactly what I'll do."
"Shite," I muttered. "You're serious."
"Deadly," Mam agreed. "They are victims of trauma. Those children need a family. They need healthy guardians, and a stable environment where their needs are met without the fear of backlash or emotional abuse. They need to be given the opportunity to just be children. Their mother can't do that for them, and the system can't promise to keep them all together, but we can."
"But like I said,
this is your decision, too," Dad interjected. "We won't do anything without your blessing."
"You don't need my blessing," I choked out, voice thick with emotion. "I want her – and I'm not talking about sex or any of that teenage shite you're thinking, Ma," I hurried to add. "I want her. I need her safe."
Mam sighed sadly. "I know, Johnny, love –"
"No, you don't," I said hoarsely. "I love that girl. Like I really fucking love her, and I can't cope with knowing she's in that house right now. I lose sleep worrying about her." Blowing out a shaky breath, I said, "I got a call off Dennehy today. They're coming down to see me this Saturday. I'll more than likely know by the end of the week if I'm in or not –"
"What?" Mam blurted, eyes wide. "Oh my god."
"That's fantastic news, Johnny." Dad beamed. "I'm so proud you –"
"No, it's not. It's not fantastic news, Da. It terrifying," I choked out, frustrated. "For months I've been worrying myself to death over how I'm supposed to leave her if I get the call up," I admitted gruffly. "And now that it's right around the corner, less than a bleeding month away, I know that I can't do it."
Dad frowned. "What are you saying, Johnny?"
"I'm saying I can't leave her in that house, Da. Not with that woman, and not with him sniffing around. I can't walk away, not for an entire month, not knowing whether she's safe or not, so if there's a chance I can get her out of that place, then I'll take it." I looked at my parents. "Save her." Swallowing deeply, I added, "Save them all."
Mam's eyes blazed with heat when she said, "We will, love."
"I can't not tell Shannon about this," I warned my parents. "We don't keep secrets from each other."
"We're not expecting you to keep anything from Shannon, son," Dad replied. "We both know you're a hopeless liar."
"The cat would be out of the bag in an hour," Mam agreed, smiling at my father.
I glared at them. "I'm not that bad."
They both smirked back at me.