Free Bang by Ruby McNally

HOME displayed in all caps accompanied by the world’s cheesiest ’90s picture of him and his siblings in colorful sweaters for a Christmas shoot at Sears. It makes Mari laugh every time she sees it. “Hi, Mom,” Jackson says as he picks up.
    â€œHi, baby.” Jack can hear a dog barking in the background, Rocko, the newest yellow lab in the string of yellow labs his parents have had ever since he and Terry and Meredith were kids. “I’m just calling to see what time you thought you might come over tomorrow.”
    Fuck.
    Tomorrow, as in the nineteenth. As in, his dad’s birthday.
    â€œUh.” Jack stalls, feeling like a piece of shit for forgetting. Birthdays are a big deal in the Ford house, your favorite dinner and a surplus of off-key singing. Meredith has been in the hospital for two of hers but Jack’s mom never let that stop them, the whole family parading through the corridors of the eating disorder clinic with an enormous chocolate-layer cake. “Could get to you around four, maybe?” Then, although he has no fucking idea if this is going to play or not, “Was thinking maybe I’d bring Mari.”
    â€œOh?” There’s a clatter, and Rocko woofing again. “Of course, we’d love to have her.”
    Jack tries to read her tone for something beyond mild surprise, but can’t. “Yeah.” He scratches at a piece of stuck-on grime beside the sink with a thumbnail. Then, like he and Mari have already discussed this, “She’s just gotta make sure someone can take Sone.” He’s good at lying about Mari now. All through his hospital stay he made up bullshit stories about why she wasn’t at his bedside, lied to his parents and his brother and sister and any other cops that happened to show up. He kept figuring she’d make an honest man out of him eventually, show up with apologies and explanations.
    Obviously that didn’t happen.
    His mom shushes the dog. “Well, we’ve still got the baby seats from Aunt Krissy’s twins kicking around somewhere, plus the high chair. Tell Mari we’d love to have her daughter visit again.”
    Again, as in only once before. The last time Mari got down to Jack’s parents’ place was right after the baby was born, a double date with her and Andre and whoever Jack’s girlfriend was at the time, a blonde named Susie. Jack remembers Susie thought it was weird. “Sonya’s too big for that chair now, Mom,” he says. Then, “Sure, I’ll pass it along.” Back when they were rookies, Mari used to come all the time. Once the Fords even threw her a birthday party. Then Andre happened, and Sonya. Jack guesses at some point he stopped extending invites.
    He chats with his mom for another five minutes, Rocko’s new fear of the step-ladder and how his dad is convinced this is the year for the Bruins. Then his dad comes on to discuss his convictions himself. Meredith grabs the phone away for a second to whisper noisily that she can include Jackson on her card if he needs. Jack tells her to go screw.
    â€œJust get the beer he likes,” Mer says, lowering her voice for real. “Easy.” Jack huffs.
    After everyone hangs up, he puts the phone back in his pocket and stands staring at his half-cleaned kitchen, the wine he’d planned to serve Mari tomorrow. Then he grabs his keys. On the way out the door he shoots a text to Terry, why the hell didn’t you remind me it was dad’s birthday?
    So you’d fuck up and make me look good , is the reply. Jackson rolls his eyes.
    The liquor store is yet another place in GB where everyone knows his face, both because he’s a frequent customer and because he and Mari get called out here a lot, homeless guys trying to pocket loose beer cans. Jackson buys the faintly girly craft stuff his dad can’t get enough of and does a round of hellos. Everyone asks about the shooting—how it