[isn't family swell?]

Joe had been staring at his phone for the better part of an hour. The Chinese food he'd ordered for lunch had gotten cold and congealed while he stared at it. He didn't care. He didn't have much of an appetite.

He shook his head. Putting it off wouldn't help any. It would make things worse, really. The later it got the more likely someone would be drunk. He didn't need to deal with that.

Sighing, Joe picked up the phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. He hadn't called his parents in more than fourteen years. He'd honestly planned on never calling again. Plans change.

He prayed that his father would pick up. He half-hoped that nobody would and he'd get an answering machine. He wasn't that lucky. At least it only rang three times before someone picked up.

"Yeah, what?"

Joe winced. It was his mother, her voice as sharp as it had ever been. At least she sounded coherent. That was something.

"Hi Ma," he said. He had to catch himself from calling her Mrs. O'Malley.

"What? Who is this? Ya got the wrong number."

"No I don't," he said, wishing he really had. "It's Joey, Ma."

"Joey? Joey! You little shit, are you in trouble again?"

"I was never in trouble, Ma, and I'm not now."

"Then what the hell do you want? You haven't called in what, two years?"

"Something like that," he said wryly. Give or take a dozen. He'd sent a card every year for Christmas and for each of his parent's birthdays. With no return address, and he drove to Boston to do it, so the postmark would be out of state. He felt a vague obligation, but not enough to let them have any idea where he lived.

Not until now, at least. He'd forgotten to block the call. He just hoped nobody had put caller ID on the line. Probably not