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LUSTFUL LOOKS AND HOVERING MOTHERS

Hugh

JUNE 30, 2000

I T TOOK A HERCULEAN EFFORT ON MY PART TO PERSUADE M AM TO LET ME STAY AT Old Hall House for the summer. I went into negotiations armed and ready with receipts in the form of countless awards for athletics, academics, and good behavior. The proof was in the paperwork, and I pulled out every dirty trick in the book to bend her will.

The fact that I was, by far, her most responsible child and had never given her so much as a whisper of trouble in almost thirteen years—unlike a certain curly-haired, demon wild child and her equally wild, equally curly-haired sidekick—didn’t hurt my cause either.

The killer blow to her argument came when I reminded her that she had no qualms about allowing Gibsie to stay with Claire for months after Joe and Beth died.

The moment those words came out of my mouth, I knew I had her over a barrel. Mam couldn’t deny the truth, and she couldn’t forbid me from offering the exact same comfort to Lizzie without displaying favoritism. I knew no such favoritism existed in my mother’s heart, but I wasn’t above emotional blackmail. Not if it got me back to her.

In the end, and after a strained phone call with Catherine, Mam agreed—albeit reluctantly—to a two-week stay, with strict stipulations that included me sleeping in the guest room and coming home every second day for dinner. While I had zero intentions of following through on Mam’s terms, I accepted the deal because it was a start, and asking for forgiveness was a lot more favorable than asking for permission in this instance.

The following morning, when I was finishing up packing, with my mother hovering anxiously in my bedroom doorway, she decided to try a manipulation tactic of her own.

“Hugh, do you think it’s sensible to spend this much time alone together?” Mam asked, worrying her lip. “Surely this cocoon you’ve built around yourselves isn’t healthy.”

“Funny, because I didn’t hear that argument when Gibsie practically lived in Claire’s room for six months after Joe and Beth died,” I replied, glancing over my shoulder. “Or when Dad holed himself up in the fucking attic five years ago and forgot to come out.”

“Hugh!”

“Sorry,” I forced myself to say, even though I wasn’t.

The truth hurts, Mam .

“Listen, all I’m trying to make you see is that staying at Old Hall House isn’t something I’m comfortable with.”

“Why not?”

“Because of the feelings involved,” she explained with a sigh. “Because of the way you look at Lizzie.”

“How do I look at her, Mam?” I tossed back, busying myself filling my bag with enough clothes to last the summer.

“With lust , Hugh.”

“Lust,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, okay, Mam.”

“I’m serious, son,” Mam argued sternly. “I’m not blind and I’m far from stupid. Don’t you think I know what’s happening to your body at this age? It’s frighteningly obvious that puberty has set in, and you’ll be heading off to secondary school in a couple of months, which will only exacerbate matters.” She blew out another pained breath. “Things are changing, Hugh, and rules need to change, too.”

“How is the way I look at Liz any different to the way Gibs looks at Claire?” I protested, spinning around to glare at my mother. “Well? The whole world knows those two are obsessed with each other and yet you have no problem allowing him to sleep over.”

“Oh please.” Now Mam was the one to roll her eyes. “Those two are children, Hugh.”

“And what am I?” I demanded, pointing to myself. “A geriatric?”

“You were born old,” Mam quipped, lips tipping upward. “Even as a toddler, your dad used to say there was a cranky, old pensioner trapped inside of you.”

“Wow,” I deadpanned. “How flattering.”

“Listen, how would you feel about Lizzie coming to stay with us instead?” Walking over to my bed, Mam sat down and plucked a T-shirt from the pile. “I’m sure a change in environment would do her the world of good,” Mam hedged, as she folded my shirt. “It can’t be easy for her all alone in that big house with only her parents for company. Especially with her mother still undergoing treatment.” Handing me the folded T-shirt, Mam plucked another from my haphazard pile. “If Lizzie was to come to our house for the summer, I could look after her.” Another neatly folded T-shirt came my way. “I would feel a lot better about this if you were both under my roof, where I could keep an eye on you.”

“I would love that,” I replied evenly, shoving another T-shirt into my bag. “But it won’t work.”

“Why not?” Mam probed, unwilling to give in. “I’ve told you that she’s always welcome at our house.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, closing the zip of my duffel bag. “And I’ve told you why she can’t come here.”

“Mark’s gone,” Mam urged. “You know that, Hugh. He won’t be back for a very long time.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “He’s not the problem.”

Mam was quiet for a while before the penny finally dropped. “Gibs.”

Bingo .

“Oh, Hugh, love. You know Gibsie has nothing to do with that mess.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, jaw clenching. “ I know that.”

“Lizzie must know that, too,” she pushed. “Gerard is her friend. They’ve been thick as thieves for years.”

“I know , Mam,” I bit out, feeling the pang of anguish in my chest. “You’re not telling me anything I’m not aware of.”

“Then surely she has to know he’s not at fault,” Mam urged. “She has to believe he’s innocent.”

“Oh, she has to believe.” My tone was hard and laced with sarcasm. “Well, maybe Liz is a little short on belief these days, Mam, especially considering nobody has shown her the same grace.”

“Hugh.” A deep sigh escaped her. “Please don’t bring that up again.”

“I believe her, Mam.” I went right ahead and brought it up. Again . “I believe Mark raped Caoimhe, and I don’t blame Liz one bit for wanting to stay as far away from this street as possible. It kills me that she’s projecting her pain onto Gibs, but I can’t honestly blame her. Because if the shoe were on the other foot and something happened to Claire, I would lose my mind, too.”

“You know what the Gardaí said. Mark was cleared of those accusations.”

“Yeah, and I know what my girlfriend said, too.”

“Hugh, you know I adore Lizzie. She’s like one of my own. But you also know that she’s a very troubled—”

“Don’t say it,” I warned, instantly on edge, as I held a hand up in warning. “Don’t use her bipolar disorder against her. Don’t be like the others.”

“It’s not like that, and you know it,” Mam countered, voice thick with emotion. “I love Lizzie like she’s my own flesh and blood. I always have.”

“But?”

“I’m concerned , Hugh!”

“You should be concerned,” I wholeheartedly agreed. “Her sister killed herself, Mam.” Had everyone forgotten that tidbit of information? “Liz was there when they pulled Caoimhe’s body out of the river. She saw that.”

“I know.” Tears filled my mother’s eyes. “That poor girl.”

“Her dad’s a walking zombie since the funeral,” I continued, unyielding. “And her mam’s a weeping corpse. My girlfriend is completely alone in that house, and I won’t let that stand.” Steeling my resolve, I looked my mother dead in the eyes and said, “And I won’t allow everyone to label her a liar, either.”

“I don’t I think she’s lying,” Mam hurried to defend. “I believe that Lizzie believes every word.”

“That’s the same fucking thing,” I snapped back. “Jesus, why do you insist on speaking to me like a child? I have a firm grasp on semantics, Mam, and that’s exactly that you’re doing right now.”

“Hugh, this isn’t helping anyone,” Mam urged, looking devastated. “Two families are in ruins right now, and instead of fanning the flames of resentment, we should be supporting them and encouraging healing .”

“Then why don’t you do that, Mam?” I countered, giving her a hard look. “Why don’t you practice what you preach and visit Catherine? I mean, she’s your friend, too, after all. Or does Sadhbh Allen hold the deciding factor on who you can offer support to?”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” Mam shot back, looking wounded. “Sadhbh is family, Hugh.”

“No, Mam, Gibs is our family,” I argued, finally allowing myself to say what I had been holding in for half a decade. “The Gibsons are our family and Sadhbh is not a Gibson anymore. She’s an Allen.”

“Hugh!”

“I told you about him,” I hissed, losing my cool and visibly trembling with tension. “I told all of you, but ye wouldn’t hear a word of it.” Furious, I stalked over to my television and started unplugging my PlayStation. “That prick tormented Gibs for years, and we all saw how he mistreated Caoimhe.” Wrapping the cables around my console, I shoved it into another bag as I continued to rant. “Caoimhe was miserable with him, so why is it so implausible to even consider that Liz might be right about him?”

“Because the authorities said she is wrong .”

“Yeah, and maybe the authorities are wrong ,” I snapped back. “Jesus, why can’t you try to see it from the other side, Mam? Why can’t you be unbiased?”

“I am trying, sweetheart,” Mam offered with a sigh. “But as you well know, it’s not so easy when you’re stuck in the middle of friends.”

“Yeah, I do, and I have a hell of lot more to lose than anyone else,” I snapped back, verbalizing my deepest fears to my mother. “Gibsie is my oldest friend in the world, and Lizzie is the only girl I’ll ever love.”

“Oh, stop it,” Mam sighed, rolling her eyes. “You have a crush on the girl. A little less of the dramatics please, son.”

“ No , I don’t have a crush on the girl ,” I countered evenly. “I’m in love with the girl , and contrary to your dismissal of my feelings, I assure you that not only are they very real but very permanent.” I scowled back at her amused expression. “But it’s good to know where you stand on my relationship, Mam. Let’s rehash this conversation in twenty years when I swing by the house with my wife—previously known as the girl —and our children.” Narrowing my eyes, I added, “I look forward to your apology—although I can’t promise I won’t gloat.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” Mam demanded, turning pale. “Because I am two seconds away from locking you in this bedroom for the summer, young man.”

“You can try,” I mused, standing my ground. “But I’ll still find a way to be with her.”

“See, this is exactly why you shouldn’t go,” Mam erupted, jerking to her feet. “And on top of that, the son I raised would never speak to his mother like this.”

“Maybe because the son you raised knows the difference between right and wrong,” I countered angrily.

“And I don’t?”

“Not recently,” I shot back. “No.”

Mam looked up at my face like she didn’t quite understand what she was seeing. “Why are you being so disrespectful to me?”

“Because you are the only parent I have, and you’re not listening to me.”

“I always listen to you.”

“Not about Mark Allen, you didn’t.”

“Hugh, I am not having this fight with you again.”

“And I’m not letting it go,” I argued back. “I will never let it go, Mam.”

“It’s not our business.”

“ She’s my business.”

“And you’re my son,” Mam shouted, losing her cool with me. “A child. A minor in my care. Remember your place in this family, Hugh.”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so difficult if I actually knew what that role was,” I tossed back.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“You know what, you can forget about going to Lizzie’s house,” Mam snapped, looking both hurt and furious. “You’ve clearly forgotten your manners, and until you find them, you can stay home,” she continued, prodding my chest with her index finger. “In fact, you are officially grounded until I say otherwise, young man,” she added, folding her arms across her chest and glaring up at me. “Is that clear?”

“The only thing that’s clear, Mam, is that in this family, good behavior is punished,” I countered, mirroring her actions by folding my arms across my chest. “I get straight A’s at school. I achieve countless academic merits. I make the team in every sport I play. I never bring trouble to your door. I follow all the rules. I look after Claire and Gibs. I cook the meals and iron the uniforms when you get called into work. I clean my room. I do my laundry. I mow the lawn. I take out the rubbish. I change the light bulbs. I don’t break curfew. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t take drugs. I don’t mess around with girls.” Chest heaving, I blew out a breath and hissed, “I do the right thing, Mam.” Reaching for my duffel bag, I slung it over my shoulder and moved for my other bags. “Every single time and you are punishing me for it!”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do, Hugh!” Mam cried out, throwing her hands up. “Why can’t you see that I’m trying to protect you? You are too young to handle the sadness in that house!”

“And you think this place is any better?” I demanded, chest rising and falling quickly. “When Dad’s depression blankets every room in this house!”

“Hugh!”

“I’m not Claire,” I strangled out, feeling too damn much in this moment. “I see. I hear. I observe. So don’t try to keep me from her when you would never leave him!” No matter how badly he drags the rest of us down . “I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, does it?”

“Hugh, wait!” Mam started to say, but I’d had enough.

Ignoring my mother’s pleas, I stormed out of my room, bags in hand, and moved for the staircase at top speed.

“Whoa—where are you going in such a rush?” Gibs asked, hovering on the top step of the stairs, clad in a dinosaur onesie and balancing two bowls of cereal. “Hugo?”

“Get out of my way, lad” was all I could reply, too consumed in my anger to think clearly. The hypocrisy in this house was stifling and I’d had enough.

Beyond furious, I stalked out the front door without a backwards glance and moved for my bike.

“Wait!” Mam called out, running out of the house after me. “Hugh, please just wait a minute!”

“Don’t bother,” I warned, balancing the saddle between my legs, while I adjusted my bags over both shoulders. “I’m going.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” Sighing in defeat, my mother plucked her car keys from her pocket. “I’ll drive you.”

I looked at her, feeling uncertain. “You will?”

“It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, now, does it?” Another weary sigh escaped her and she moved for her car. “Pop the boot and load your bike in—and for the love of God, call me if you need anything. I mean anything, Hugh. Just pick up the phone and I will come to you.”