Scrumptious Read Online Free Page B

does.” He glanced around the bar. “She’s a heartbreaker, but totally worth it.”
    “Good to know.” Joe didn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
    The bartender shrugged and moved down the bar to take an order. Did he look like a chump? A sensitive, bleeding heart? If so, it would be the first time in his life. Usually guys warned him away from a girl because they didn’t want him poaching on their territory or ruining a “good” girl with his two-night maximum policy. This was the first time someone had tried to cushion his fall.
    For a second, Joe thought about calling the bartender over and telling him not to worry, that he didn’t fall in love. Didn’t want to, hadn’t tried. Making a commitment just caused complications when you broke it. Even true love, the real stuff, couldn’t put the brakes on a Rafferty. Joe’s latest reminder in that vein was still so new that it hollowed out his chest and made him clench his teeth.
    When he had visited his mother in the hospital that last time, she had reminded him of a pirate, with a bright head rag and a jolly expression in her hollow-eyed skull. Joe had hated seeing her like that, but at least the drugs kept her cheerful. Cancer had stripped his mother down to bare bones, removed both her breasts and all of the color from her cheeks, but it had not destroyed her spirit. Her shape was slight under the covers of the hospital bed, but her hand, grasping his, was strong.
    “Joseph, we haven’t set a very good example for you,” his mother said without preamble. “Your father and I love each other very much, you know.”
    Joe stared at her. What the fuck?
    “It’s not easy. You can’t judge a marriage unless you’re in it. It never meant anything. He stayed, right? He never left us. Your father is a good man.” Joe tried to interrupt. He didn’t want to hear this, but his mother squeezed his hand even tighter, and he could see that it cost her to speak, not only physically but emotionally. She could have her say, then, if it mattered that much to her. It wouldn’t make any difference to him.
    “People talk, Joe. I hear about you. You don’t bring any girls home, but I know you have them. A lot of them. Do these women make you happy, soothe your soul? You need to find someone who makes you a better person. I do that for your father. He does that for me. The rest doesn’t matter.” His mother shut her eyes and leaned back against the pillow, but she didn’t let go of his fingers.
    “You were a good boy, Joe, be a good man.” His mother’s voice was a whisper, as thin as the rise and fall of her chest under the flimsy blanket. The lines between her brows were pronounced, drawn with pain, but her lips tilted up at the corners. Slowly, her eyes opened again. They were clear — painfully clear.
    “Find a real girl, Joe. Quit screwing around. If it hasn’t made you happy by now, it isn’t going to.”
    “That’s not fair, Mom. The whole do as I say, not as I do thing just doesn’t work for me. It never has.”
    Helen’s smile was gentle and chiding. “Promise me you’ll find a nice girl.”
    Joe said nothing. He wasn’t going to argue with her today.
    “Joseph.”
    Joe pulled his gaze from the floor and looked into his mother’s bright eyes. She was his anchor, the one thing that pulled him through. The only one who was always on his side. He couldn’t deny her.
    Joe nodded slowly, once.
    “You’re just saying that because I’m dying, but I’m going to hold you to it, see if I don’t.” For a moment, the air in the hospital room felt charged. Helen Rafferty had never claimed her Irish roots, but she had ways. “I’m not done yet.”
    “Of course you’re not,” he said.
    “That’s not what I meant, love. I have one more thing to ask of you.”
    “All right.”
    “You’ll have to take care of your father.”
    Joe stiffened. He glared at his mother and pulled his hand out of her grasp.
    “Give him some time — not too much