Peg’s husband Robbie sat in the normally empty chair as if he’d done it every day for the past ten years, instead of living in a completely different town.
“Ye’ve met me da,” Patrick said shortly, sitting down at the table next to me.
“Um, not really.” My face heated in embarrassment at his blatant disregard of common manners. “I’m Amy. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Robbie,” he replied back with a nod, lifting his arm across the table to shake my hand. “It’s lovely to finally meet ye, too.”
“Brought some pastries home,” Peg announced cheerfully, bringing them to the table. “Didn’t realize our men would be here.”
It felt like I was in a Twilight Zone episode as all the people around me ate quietly as if it was any other day of the week. As if the last time we’d all been in the same room, Robbie and Patrick hadn’t been ready to come to blows and Peg hadn’t been on the cusp of a nervous breakdown. What the hell was going on?
“I’m glad ye two are gettin’ along,” Peg announced, looking between Robbie and Patrick.
Tension at the table rose as the two men glanced at each other, and I jumped in my seat as Peg’s fork went clattering to the tabletop. Her entire body stiffened as she looked back and forth between them. I didn’t understand what was going on, and all of a sudden I was really sick and tired of having no idea what was happening in my family. From the very beginning, I’d tried not to overstep, afraid that if I did my place at that table would disappear. But marriage, or perhaps time, had erased those worries. I wanted to know what the hell was going on. Now.
“No…Tell me ye didn’t, Robert,” Peg hissed. “Tell me ye didn’t bring our boy into yer bullshite.”
“Margaret—”
“Mum—”
The guilt shone plainly on both men’s faces.
“How could ye?” she screamed, making the hair on my arms stand straight up.
“We did not have a choice!” Robbie said back, pleadingly.
“There’s always a choice!”
“Mum—”
“Not a word out of ye, Patrick Gallagher!” Peg ordered, never looking away from Robbie.
“I didn’t know until it was too late.” Robbie insisted.
My mind was spinning and my stomach clenched as all three stood from the table. I was frozen in my seat as I watched it play out in front of me, terrified to know what they were talking about, but unwilling to try and calm the storm before I knew exactly what was happening.
“Ye could have done somethin’! Ye could have got him out!”
“Dere is nuttin’—” Robbie’s arm swung out, and I flinched in my seat at the movement, “Dere is nuttin’ I could have done. Dey would have killed me and pulled him in anyway, ye know dat I wasn’t on de best terms!”
“That’s not true!” Peg argued, wrapping her arms around herself and placing one hand over her heart. “I would have died. I would have killed myself if it meant that our son wasn’t pulled into this madness ye’ve been so intent on being a part of.” Her anguish was palpable, her small body shaking with anger as she took two steps forward and struck him across the face. “I begged ye!” Another slap. “I begged ye to keep him out of it!” Another slap.
Robbie didn’t do one thing in his defense, just stood there and let her beat on him as I watched in horror. When Patrick started to move around the table, yelling for his mom to stop, his dad just raised one arm, motioning for him to stay back. Peg was sobbing, and I’d never before seen her so out of control. Her husband was twice her size, but he did nothing to stop her, even as his face turned red with handprints and his lip split where her wedding ring caught it.
And still, I sat, frozen to my seat. I couldn’t make my body move. I couldn’t organize my thoughts into any semblance of order. They were just a jumbled mess of dawning horror and disbelief at what I was witnessing.
What in God’s name had Robbie pulled Patrick into?
Chapter 26
Amy
“What’s going on Patrick?” I asked as he pushed me into our room. The screaming had gone on and on, until finally, Robbie had pulled Peg into his chest, comforting her as she slumped against him. He’d lifted her and carried her into her room, closing the door behind them and we hadn’t heard a peep since.
Patrick hadn’t met my eyes after his parents had disappeared, and now he was moving around the room, grabbing a fresh button down shirt out of the closet and doing anything he could to refrain from looking at me.
“Get dressed. I’ll take ye to dinner.”
“I want to know what the hell is happening.” I insisted, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Get out of dat uniform and get dressed,” he replied flatly.
“What the fuck is going on, Patrick?” My voice was getting louder as he turned his back to me, his shoulders tight as he pulled off his sweatshirt and t-shirt. Suddenly, he spun to face me, giving me a glimpse of his bare chest that I didn’t have time to appreciate before he started speaking in a low, angry tone.
“Oh, now ye want to know? After all dis time, livin’ here and eatin’ our food and contributin’ absolutely nuttin’ to dis fuckin’ house except extra dirty laundry—now ye want to know what’s happenin’ around ye?”
My jaw dropped in surprise and my heart started to race as he glared at me. My stomach began to churn at the derision in his stare, and I honestly thought for a moment that I was going to vomit all over the bedroom… contributing even more dirty laundry to the house I gave nothing to.