Mickey - The View From Here PART TWO - Gallavich

Not Too Toxic

I was sitting in the grass with my back rested against the chain-link fence separating Lip's property from his neighbor's when Ian tossed me a bag of frozen peas and sat next to me. Pressing the chilled bag to my wounded eye, I couldn’t help but commend Fiona on her right hook. The lady could throw a punch.

“I'm gonna have a shiner,” I grumbled.

Ian shrugged. “You look hot with a shiner.”

“You just like seein' my ass get beat,” I joked, spurring a grin from him.

“Hey,” he said with excitement before changing the subject. “Got Carl to make some calls. Joey's fucked up in the hospital. Police report says a delivery truck hit him.” Ian gazed at me happily. “I think we got away with this.”

Staring at him with a stern expression on my face, I inquired with genuine concern, “are you fucking stupid? Why the fuck would you tell Carl? You tryin' to get us both thrown back in the pen? The fuck is wrong with you?”

Ian made a face and laughed. “Calm the fuck down. You know we can trust Carl.”

“He's a cop!” I reminded my husband. “We kinda attempted to murder someone today. Maybe it isn’t appropriate fucking dinner conversation, Ian!”

“You’re overreacting,” Ian said with a sigh and shake of his head.

“You’re under-reacting!” I countered peevishly.

Ian met and held my gaze before we both began to chuckle. “You're weird.”

“Pft,” I waved him away dismissively. “I'm not weird. You're fuckin' weird.” I set the bag of peas down at my side and grasped Ian in a headlock, giving his orange hair a mock-noogie.

Giggling, Ian twisted and wrestled with me until he was laying in the grass on his back, his head resting in my lap. Without shame, I leaned down and kissed him. As I nuzzled my forehead against his, I spoke softly. “No one’s takin' Franny. I won't let it happen. I promise.”

Ian furrowed his brow in thought. “Maybe Fi's right. What we…what I did today…” he stopped himself, unable to say it out loud. “Maybe Franny isn’t safe with us.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Is she safer with any of these other idiots?”

“Yeah,” he replied adamantly. “Lip and Tammy, Fiona, even Carl,” Ian said with dismay. “She’s right. We're the last people that should be takin' care of Franny. Like, you’re an attempted murderer and I was practically a terrorist for a minute with my fuckin' followers--”

“Your cult,” I corrected.

For the 700th time, Ian groaned, “it wasn’t a cult!”

“You're overthinking,” I told him.

“You're under-thinking,” he quipped back to tease me.

Placing my palm to his cheek, I said with love, “maybe we are too toxic. But I would never hurt Franny. Would you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then stop worrying. She's safe with us,” I assured him. “Don’t let Fiona get in your head about shit she doesn’t know about.”

Paying no mind to our private conversation, Liam marched up to us and cleared his throat to get our attention. In his hand was the letter from Franny's school. “I got this note a few times over the years,” he told us. “I couldn't always find Frank to talk to them, but I figured it out. I know how you can get out of this without Debbie.”