Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

Sitting in the front row pew in St. Patrick’s Church on a beautiful summer’s day in May, with my brothers on either side of me, I felt a mask slip into place as countless faces stepped in front of me, shaking my hand, telling me how sorry they were for our loss. I wasn’t sure which loss they were talking about; our mother, who had been murdered, or our father, who had murdered her.

All five of my brothers looked smart in identical black suits, crisp white shirts, and black ties Mrs. Kavanagh had delivered to the house before the rosary on Saturday. She had bought me a knee-length black dress and cardigan to wear, with small black heels. In the midst of my turmoil and my world crashing down around me, all that kept popping into my head was that my dress fit. It was the strangest, most inconsequential detail, but it kept swirling around and around in my mind.

My eyes were glued to my parents’ coffins laying side by side in front of the alter.

His coffin was on the right.

Our mother was on the left, closest to us.

Like the steps of the stairs, my brothers and I were lined up according to our age, with Darren sitting at the edge of the pew, Joey to his left, followed by me, and then Tadhg, Ollie, and finally Sean.

Darren was thanking everyone that sympathized with us, like the head of the family did during these ordeals, while Joey sat rigid, eyes glued to our mother’s coffin in a trance-like state, ignoring everyone who shook his limp hand. Ollie was crying softly into his tissue, while Tadhg scowled at anyone who tried to pat his head. Sean was looking around at the Stations of the Cross hanging on the walls, and the beautiful, stained glass windows all around us.

Sean didn’t seem to understand what was happening and his lack of awareness gave me immense comfort. He had a fighting chance to survive this. The couple sitting behind my brothers gave me hope for all of their futures. John Sr. had his head bent between Ollie and Tadhg, whispering something in their ears, that was amusing enough to draw a smile from Tadhg and a sniffling thumbs up from Ollie, while Edel had positioned herself on the kneeler behind Sean, quietly entertaining him and explaining all the different pictures and statues.

Beside Mr. and Mrs. Kavanagh sat my mother’s sister Alice, her husband, Michael, and my eighty-one-year-old maternal great-grandmother, Nanny Murphy.

That was it.

That was all the family my mother had to show for thirty-eight years on this earth.

I knew mine and my brothers’ friends and their families were filling up the pews behind us. I’d seen them all earlier when they had come up to sympathize, and it gave me the strength to not look at the other side of the church, to where his family were sitting, weeping and wailing loudly. None of us knew our father’s side of the family, and I had no plans to start now.

Every time one of his family members sobbed too loudly, I felt Joey stiffen beside me. Darren noticed too because he reached down and placed a hand on Joey’s knee to stop him from shaking. Hooking my arm through Joey’s, I held onto him for all I was worth, terrified of what he might do if they didn’t stop. The Lynch side had caused terrible trouble over the funeral arrangements as it stood, making a big deal of the family plot, and demanding that they both be laid to rest together. Darren had hit the roof, insisting on cremating our mother before he allowed her to be placed with him, before Mr. Kavanagh stepped in with his wallet and organized for my mother to be buried in her own fresh plot. My parents would share a service and a cemetery, but at least she could finally rest in peace.

‘We’re nearly there,’ I whispered in Joey’s ear when one of our father’s sisters wailed particularly loudly as the priest sprinkled holy water on our parents’ coffins. ‘Another little bit and we’re done.’Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

Joey nodded stiffly, never once taking his eyes off the photograph of Mam that was sitting on top of her coffin.

Trembling, I leaned back in my seat, seeking the comfort of the hand hooked under the back of my seat and stroking my side. I knew in my heart that the only reason I was managing to hold it together was the boy who was sitting in the pew directly behind mine. Every instinct inside of me was demanding I climb over the pew and seek comfort in my boyfriend’s arms, but I held firm, staying strong for my brothers.

When the mass ended and my father’s family stood up to shoulder his coffin out of the church with the second priest on the alter, I reached down and gripped Johnny’s hand tightly, needing the connection to build up enough courage to hold my ground. All six of us remained seated and turned our heads away, refusing to watch as our mother’s killer was shouldered away by his friends and relatives.

The emotions I was desperately trying to wrangle in got the better of me and a pained sob tore from my throat, but then I felt him right behind me. I heard the words, ‘You can do this,’ in my ear as his lips brushed against my earlobe. Nuzzling my cheek with his nose, he whispered, ‘I promise.’

Shuddering, I nodded and pressed his hand to my chest, clutching it so tightly that it had to be uncomfortable for him – he clearly had to kneel behind me in order to give me so much of his arm – but I couldn’t physically let him go. Not when I’d already lost so much today.

Finally, when he was gone, and it was our mother’s turn to be shouldered from the church, I watched Darren and Joey rise to their feet. Everyone was crying behind us, sobbing loudly as my mother’s two eldest children carefully removed her picture from her coffin and handed it to Father McCarthy, before folding the pall and returning that to him, too. But then Darren and Joey just stood there, staring at our mother’s coffin, looking completely lost, with tears dripping down their cheeks.

Exhaling a shaky breath, I let go of Johnny’s hand and stood up. Keeping my back straight, I walked up to my brothers and whispered, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘We need six people to carry her,’ Darren whispered back. ‘I didn’t think –’ He shook his head and sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to do…’

Everyone in the jam-packed church was staring at us. Some in confusion. Most in pity.

‘Johnny?’ Darren called out in a hoarse voice, turning his attention to my boyfriend, who was sitting next to Aoife in the second row, and pulling faces at Sean.

Snapping his attention to us, Johnny straightened up, looking like he’d been caught red-handed doing something he wasn’t supposed to. ‘Yeah?’

‘Will you shoulder our mother with us?’

Clearly taken aback, Johnny sank back in his seat. ‘Are you sure?’ His uncertain blue eyes flicked from me to Joey before settling on Darren. ‘You want me?’

‘There would be four white coffins up here if you hadn’t done what you did,’ Darren replied, gesturing to our brothers and me. ‘We want you, and she would want you, too.’

Emotions flooded Johnny’s eyes and he quickly rose to his feet. He didn’t have his jacket on, just his white shirt and tie, as he stumbled out of the pew and walked up to stand beside me at the side of my mother’s coffin.

Our aunt’s husband walked over to us then, shaking hands with Darren just before Alex, who’d driven down from Belfast on Saturday, joined us in front of the alter. ‘I’ll stand with you, baby,’ he whispered in his ear. Ignoring the priest who was giving them a peculiar look, my brother’s beautiful boyfriend leaned in and kissed Darren right on the lips. ‘Always.’

Darren sniffled and gripped Alex’s hand. ‘We just need one more.’

‘Gussie,’ Joey said shakily, pointing to Gibsie, who was sitting in the third row with our friends. ‘I need a favor, lad.’

‘Say no more, buddy.’ Gibsie rose from his pew and walked straight up to Joey. ‘Gussie’s here,’ he said, patting him on the shoulder.

Trembling, I returned to Tadhg and Ollie, clasping their hands tightly in mine as the undertakers carefully raised her coffin onto their shoulders and then quickly reorganized the boys by height before giving them the go-ahead.

Father McCarthy walked down the aisle and everyone got to their feet. With their arms banded around each other, Darren and Joey shouldered our mother’s coffin from the front, with Alex and Michael in the middle, and Johnny and Gibsie at the back.

Sobbing quietly, I slowly trailed after the coffin as they slowly walked my mother out of the church and into the glorious sunshine in the adjoining cemetery. ‘Sean,’ I mumbled to Tadhg when we stepped outside. ‘Oh, god, we forgot Sean.’

Glancing around me, I looked through the crowds, frantically searching for my baby brother, only to find him a few feet behind me swinging happily between Johnny’s parents, blissfully unaware of that fact that we were about to lay his mother to rest. My eyes landed on Aoife then and her golden hair as it blew around her face in the light summer breeze. She wasn’t looking at me. Her entire focus was on my brother as she watched him like he was a precious jewel that could vanish at any moment.

‘Mammy,’ Ollie sobbed, burying his face in my side.

‘Shh. It’s okay.’ I tore my gaze from Aoife and wrapped my arm around his small shoulders, holding him to my side, keeping Tadhg’s hand firmly in my other hand. I continued to walk us after the coffin, keeping my eyes trained on Johnny’s white shirt – the only white shirt in a sea of dark jackets.

When we reached the freshly dug grave in the far corner of the graveyard, I watched numbly as they shifted my mother onto the boards next to the plot. Wordlessly, Joey and Darren returned to stand beside us as Father McCarthy continued to pray over my mother’s grave.

Johnny was standing so close behind me that I could smell his aftershave and feel the light movement of his shirt against my back as he breathed in and out.

Slow and steady.

In and out.

Thump, thump, thump.

I allowed myself to lean against him, taking all the comfort he was offering me, allowing him to be my strength in this moment.

When Father McCarthy finished the final part of the service, I watched as Patrick Feely stepped up to the microphone the priest had been using and gently strummed on the guitar strapped to his chest. Father McCarthy had asked if there was a song we would like to be played during the service, and Johnny had mentioned to Darren that his friend played the guitar and would be honored to play for us. With the help of Feely, Darren had picked some lovely songs for the ceremony but it was Joey who had chosen the song to be played when Mam was being lowered into the ground. He was adamant that it had to be that specific song.

When Feely began to sing the words of Live’s Lightning Crashes, his voice so beautiful and haunting, the lyrics so cutting and deep, I lost the battle with my emotions. Knowing that Joey had chosen this song for Mam made it almost unbearable to hear. The pain in my heart was too much to handle.

‘I can’t –’ Crying hard and ugly, I spun around and buried my face in Johnny’s chest, unable to watch Joey and Darren slowly lower her into the ground. ‘I can’t do it!’

‘I’ve got you, baby,’ Johnny whispered, wrapping me up in his arms. ‘I’m right here.’

‘No! The worms – it’s too dark! Stop! Mammy – Mammy, no!’ Ollie started to scream so loudly that I jerked away from Johnny with the intention of cuddling him, but he pushed his way through the crowd and ran straight for Mr. Kavanagh. Crouching down, Johnny’s father lifted Ollie into his arms and quickly walked him away from the grave and back towards the gates to where Mrs. Kavanagh was standing with Sean.

My brothers carefully lowered her into the ground and then blessed themselves.

Sobbing hard, Darren walked straight over to Alex.

Like he had when she was alive, Joey remained right by our mother’s side, staring into the hole in the ground that would be her final resting place. A lone tear drop fell from his cheek and I watched it as it disappeared into the grave with her.

Patrick finished his song, and the crowds of mourners slowly scattered away until it just a few of our close friends remaining.

Sniffling, Tadhg walked over to where Joey was standing and placed his hand in his. Never taking his eyes off the grave, Joey draped an arm around our little brother and pulled him into his chest. ‘You have to go, Joe,’ Tadhg told him. ‘Those guys are waiting down at the gates with John and Edel to take you to the hospital.’

‘I’m, uh…’ Clearing his throat, Joey patted Tadhg’s head. ‘You go on with Darren. I just need some time.’

‘But you have to go now –’

‘Come on, Tadhg,’ Darren cut him off gently as he led him away from Joey. ‘Give him a minute.’ Squeezing Joey’s shoulder, he whispered, ‘I’ll be up to see you as soon as you’re allowed visitors.’

‘Come back, okay?’ Sniffling, Tadhg wrapped his arms around Joey’s waist. ‘Get better and come back to us, you fucker.’

‘Yeah.’ Joey nodded weakly. ‘That’s the plan, kid.’

‘He’s going to get better,’ Darren told them. ‘You are. You can do this, Joey Lynch. You’re the strongest, most headstrong person I’ve ever known in my life.’

‘Just take him, Darren –’ Exhaling a ragged breath, Joey dropped his head. ‘I can’t do this with them here.’

Without another word, Darren led a crying Tadhg away from the grave.

‘Joe,’ I croaked out, tears dripping down my cheeks, as I clung to my boyfriend. ‘I don’t want you to –’

‘Don’t say it, Shan,’ he begged, tearing his gaze off the grave to look at me. ‘If you say those words, I won’t be able to. And I really need to do this –’ His voice cracked and he dragged in a sharp breath before turning his bloodshot gaze on Johnny. ‘Kavanagh, can you do me a favor and look after –’

‘Consider it done, lad,’ Johnny replied gruffly, tightening his hold on me. ‘No worries.’

Aoife, who had been standing to the side, silently observing everything, stepped forward then. Without a word, she walked right up to my mother’s grave, dropped a single red rose inside, and turned around to face my brother.

‘I told you not to come,’ he told her, trembling.

‘And I told you to save your breath,’ she replied, tipping her chin up to face him.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he strangled out, shaking his head. ‘You know it’s not good –’

‘I don’t care,’ she cut him off by saying. ‘Now put your arms around me and hold me like you’re not going to see me for another three months.’

‘Jesus –’ Shuddering, Joey pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers. ‘You don’t wait, do you hear me?’ Sniffling, he cupped her cheeks in his trembling hands and looked into her eyes. ‘You live your life, okay?’

‘You shut up, Joey Lynch,’ she sobbed, gripping his sides. ‘I love you.’

‘You shut up, Aoife Molloy,’ he shot back gruffly and pressed a kiss to her brow. ‘I love you, too.’

‘I’ll be here when you get out,’ she told him.

‘Don’t be here,’ he strangled out. ‘Be somewhere better.’

‘I don’t take orders from you,’ she squeezed out. ‘You should know that by now.’

‘Because you’re crazy stupid,’ he whispered. ‘You’re wasting your life on me. You know this. Everyone keeps telling you, but you won’t listen –’

‘Because it’s my life to waste,’ she shot back defiantly. ‘Now, you get your sexy ass better and come home to me.’ Reaching a hand behind him, she pinched his ass for emphasis. ‘Because I’m going to need you healthy, okay?’

‘Aoife, I’m a bad bet –’

‘Okay?’

He heaved a heavy sigh and nodded. ‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Now, give me a kiss and tell me you love me,’ she instructed, lip wobbling. ‘And make it a good one.’

‘Come on, Shan,’ Johnny said, distracting me from Joey and Aoife as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. ‘Let’s leave them be.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Shivering, I leaned into his side as we walked away from the graveside. ‘Thanks for today,’ I told him, slipping a hand around his waist. ‘For everything.’

‘Shan, you were so amazing these last few days,’ Johnny replied gruffly. ‘I don’t know where that strength comes from, but it’s so humbling.’ He shook his head and blew out a breath. ‘I don’t even have the words to tell you how fucking incredible you are, Shannon Lynch.’

‘I’m not an incredible anything, Johnny,’ I croaked out. ‘I’m just trying to keep my head above water and not drown.’

‘You won’t drown – you’re a survivor,’ he told me.

‘I’m not a good swimmer,’ I admitted.

‘Then I’ll throw you a lifejacket and swim out to get you,’ he shot back, tucking me into his side. ‘Because I’m an excellent swimmer.’

‘You talking about your swimmers on a day like today?’ Gibsie quipped when we joined him and the rest of our family and friends at the gates of the cemetery. ‘Christ, Johnny, you sure do pick your moments, lad.’

‘Oh, shut up, you big eejit,’ Lizzie grumbled, slapping the back of his head. ‘You need to pick your moments.’

‘It’s called looking on the bright side,’ Gibsie shot back, glaring at her. ‘And that’s called assault.’

Lizzie rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever. Don’t talk to me.’

‘Fine,’ Gibsie countered. ‘Don’t touch me.’

‘No problem,’ Lizzie muttered. ‘I need hand sanitizer anyway.’

‘Yeah,’ Gibsie bit out. ‘For your tongue.’

‘Can you two pack it in for one bleeding day?’ Johnny hissed, bristling. ‘Christ, look at where you are.’ He inclined his head to where my younger brothers were standing with his parents, watching their interaction with curious eyes. ‘Just call a truce for an hour,’ he added, smoothing a hand up and down my arm. ‘We don’t need any more fighting.’

‘Yeah,’ Lizzie said, cheeks reddening. ‘Of course.’

‘Ignore them, chickie,’ Claire said, stepping forward to wrap her arms around me. ‘You did such a good job today. I’m so proud of you.’

‘Thanks, Claire.’ Shivering, I hugged her back tightly before taking a step back and smiling weakly. ‘Thank you all for coming.’ I looked up at Feely who was standing between Hughie and Gibsie and said, ‘Thank you so much for doing that for my family.’ Clasping my hands together, I nodded to the guitar case at his feet and smiled. ‘You have a very beautiful voice.’

His cheeks turned bright pink. ‘I was honored to be asked.’

‘He’s our dark horse, this fella,’ Gibsie interjected good-naturedly, slapping a hand on Feely’s shoulder. ‘Pa’s full of surprises.’

‘John, did you have to give him chocolate buttons?’ Mrs. Kavanagh groaned loudly and it caught my attention. ‘It’s twenty-four degrees outside and he’s wearing a custom Ralph Lauren.’ Kneeling down in front of Sean, she pulled a tissue out of her designer handbag and dabbed at my baby brother’s chocolate covered face and fingers. ‘What did he give you, Seany, hmm?’

‘He wanted a snack.’ Mr. Kavanagh chuckled, not sounding one bit sorry. ‘And you’re worse for putting a six-hundred-euro suit on a toddler, baby.’ Slipping his hand into his tailored suit pants pocket, he pulled out a handful of mini bags of chocolate buttons and passed them around to Tadhg and Ollie, who were grinning in delight.

‘Don’t be jealous,’ Johnny warned Gibsie who was scowling at my brothers. ‘You’re on a diet – and you’re a grown ass man.’

‘Don’t worry, my old flower,’ Mr. Kavanagh said before tossing a packet to Gibsie. ‘I’ve got some for you, too.’

‘Score,’ Gibsie snickered as he ripped open the packet and hoofed them down in one mouthful.

‘I don’t know about you, Gibs,’ Feely said with a pained sigh. ‘I really don’t.’

‘Take the boys back to the car, will you, love? I need to have a word with Joey before we go,’ Mrs. Kavanagh said as she straightened up and smoothed down her dress. ‘You’re all more than welcome back to the house for some lunch.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Yeah, thanks a million, Mrs. Kavanagh.’

‘Sound as a pound, Mammy K,’ Gibsie chimed in. ‘I’ll be there with bells on.’

‘And don’t you dare give those boys anymore treats before their lunch, John.’ Smirking at her husband, Mrs. Kavanagh leaned up on her tip-toes and pressed a kiss to his clean-shaven cheek before saying, ‘Or you won’t be getting your treat.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Johnny strangled out, scrubbing a hand down his face. ‘Come on, Shan –’ Gagging, he grabbed my hand, and moved for the gate. ‘Let’s get out of here before we both start anxious puking.’