Page 2 of A Very No Strings Halloween
He smacks me up the side of the head.
“What?! People loved it!”
My grandad grabs his glass of Guinness and stands up at his table. For an old guy, he’s still got a booming yet somehow melodic voice. “Thank you. From the bottom of me heart, I thank all of you. After livin’ the near century that I have lived, you do, indeed, learn a thing or two along the way. But alas, when you live long enough, you also start forgettin’ many of those things. Which is why it’s important to meet a person. And to make that person your family.” My grandad looks lovingly at my granny. She absolutely beams up at him. Their skin is wrinkled as a nut sac that’s been boiling in a hot tub for too long, but the look in their eyes makes them seem seventy years younger.
“And then you gotta make more people with ’em…” Grandad continues suggestively. People laugh at him, totally charmed by him. He didn’t even have to waggle his eyebrows. Granny giggles and blushes again.Because Irish accent. “So that those people you make can grow up and find their people and make them family.” My grandad looks over at Pops and Ma, his eyes slick and shiny with pride. “So they can make more people to meet people and make more family.” He glances at Mark and my cousins and all of his grandchildren. Somehow he’s able to scan the entire room while overlooking me. It’s actually pretty impressive. “And so on and so forth, so that a long life becomes fuller the longer you go. And these people in your family can teach you the lessons and remind youwhat’s important every single day when you live so long that you start to forget. And aye, adventure is grand. But all adventure stories reach a final page. ’Tis love and family that brings immortality. So here’s to lovin’ and livin’ forever.” He raises his glass and everyone follows suit.
It was a good speech. Mine was objectively more fun. But no word of thanks about me organizing this here party. For getting everyone here. For delivering a kick-ass speech after Mark nearly bored everyone to death.
Grandad clears his throat and fixes me with his dark-eyed stare. Here we go. He didn’t forget. He was just saving the best for last. “So, what are we gonna do with this one? Heh? Billy, my boy,whenare ya finally gonna find someone? When are you gonna find a nice lass to make you immortal?”
“When he finds one that’s blind, deaf,anda Tomcats fan!” Nolan shouts out.
Oh yeah, that gets a big laugh.
Let’s all laugh at Billy Boston for being single and wicked awesome!
“Maybe when I fly to Vegas and find one drunk enough to accidentally marry me!”
Record scratch. Seriously. The one second there isn’t a Dropkick Murphys song blaring from the speakers. That does not get the response I was hoping for. Possibly because most of the people here aren’tsupposed to know about how Nolan and Cora woke up married in Vegas. From the look Nolan’s giving me, I’d say I might not live to see my next birthday.
Moving on.
“Hey! Another round of drinks on me!” I shout, to everyone in particular. Literally all of the drinks have been on me tonight, but that’s the one sentence I can yell out at this gathering that guarantees me a positive response.
“What’re we gonna do with you, though, William?”
Uh-oh.
I turn to find my ma resting her chin on her fist. Her elbow slips off the edge of the table, but she straightens herself up and then refolds the napkin in her lap, like she did that on purpose. She only calls me William after she’s had three glasses of pinot grigio. Four and she starts picking fights with Granny, and five… I shudder at the very thought. We cannot allow her to get to five.
Ma’s from New Jersey. She’s been living in Boston for, like, thirty-five years, but nobody here understands what she’s saying half the time. But they can hear her! When I was ten she woke us all up in the middle of the night, screaming from down the hall:Billy, you get down from there right now! This is very bad for my heart—you get down from there! Gimme a kiss, baby, that’s my good boy.She was fast asleep. Pops saysshe still wakes him up by dream-yelling at me a few nights a year. Usually after someone in our family gets married.
“Come over here, sweetie! I love you—look at this face—will you look at this handsome face on my boy?!” she exclaims to no one in particular. “I love this face—but how are you gonna meet someone special if you’re always gallivantin’ around town, huh?”
“My point exactly,” my aunt Mamie says. Mrs. Cannavale is the unspoken boss of everyone in the entire family, and my ma’s fine with it since she can only give so many fucks about so many people.
“Come ’ere. Give your ma a kiss.” She holds her arms out toward me.
“Maaaaa. Come on.”
“Not on the lips—calm down,mistah. C’mere to your ma who loves you!”
I do. I give my ma a kiss on the cheek. She tries to slick back my wavy hair, but I step away from her. “Maaa.”
“It’s gettin’ too long in the back!”
“It’s, like, half an inch below my earlobe!”
“Come back to the house and lemme trim it for you! You think I don’t know what’s right for my boy?”
“Ma. I swear to God. Not now.”
“Leah! Leah!” Suddenly she’s yelling at the waitress and waving her over. “Leah, what do you think? You thinkmy son could use a trim?”
Jesus Christ.
Leah’s carrying two trays of pint glasses, and she looks at me like she wants to throw all of them in my face.
