“It’s late. You know what he’s like at this time of night,” she said, her accent more noticeable in her panic. “Ignore him. Just go. Have fun. I’ll deal with him.”
“Better a faggot than a drunk!” Danny shouted past her fingers, ignoring his mother’s plea for peace. “Have another one you—”
Paul cut him off, doing a far more effective job of stilling his rant by clamping a hand over his mouth from behind and jerking him back so hard he stumbled. “Starting something with him and leaving isn’t fair to your mama,” Paul whispered in his ear. “It’s not nice.”
Danny’s elbow jerked back into Paul’s chest hard enough to leave him winded. Danny pulled away, running a hand through his hair vainly to straighten it, his eyes still blazing. It was obvious he was battling with himself to hold his tongue as Paul suggested. Taking the high road wasn’t one of Danny’s strong suits.
“Why so quiet? Making out with your boyfriend?”
They all turned toward the hallway. Danny’s mother groaned out loud from the comment that could easily start a vicious battle of wills that would ruin everyone’s night. Paul tensed, wondering why that was always the avenue his father took with him. Danny got more girls than anyone.
Danny was breathing heavily as if searching for some way to calm his temper for his mother’s sake, if nothing else.
“Someone needs to clue him in on the fact I’m meaner and stronger than him now,” Danny finally growled at his mother rather than retaliate against his father. He leaned down to her level and pointed a finger angrily. “You wanna keep the peace, you get that through his liquor-clogged brain because one of these days I’m gonna kick his ass, and I’m gonna enjoy it.”
“Oye, so angry,” Mrs. Carlow said, her beautiful face pleading for Danny to be complacent. “You need to go fishing now.”
“We’re going.” Paul put a hand on Danny’s shoulder, steering him toward the back door. Paul couldn’t help but feel guilty leaving Danny’s mother to deal with her husband once Danny had gotten him riled up. He shot her a worried look as he ushered Danny outside. “Sorry, Mrs. Carlow.”
“What’re you sorry for?” Danny asked bitterly once they stepped into the stagnant summer air. It wasn’t until Paul shut the door behind them that his friend whispered under his breath, “She’s the one who married him.”
“That’s not nice. Anyway, what does it matter? You can’t change it. You gotta learn to just go with the flow. That’s what I do.” Paul looked at the apple Mrs. Carlow gave him and turned to Danny when he took another bite of his. “You want mine? I hate apples.”
Danny paused, looking at the apple in Paul’s hand. “You eat them all the time.”
“I was being polite.”
“Have you always hated them?”
“Always,” Paul confirmed, shuddering. “I even told my father I hated them one night at dinner. Big mistake.”
Danny took another bite of his own apple as they made the long trek around Danny’s massive house. “How so?”
“You know, food is fuel. Marines eat what they’re given.” Paul couldn’t help wincing at the memory. “You don’t wanna know what happens when you refuse it.”
“I kinda wanna know,” Danny said nonchalantly as they reached the edge of the horse pasture. “Just throw it out to pasture. One of ’em will find it in the morning.”
Paul turned, throwing the apple as far as he could, watching until the darkness hid it from sight.
“Nice.” Danny took another bite of his apple before he followed suit and threw it out for the horses to eat. It landed before darkness could swallow it, glinting red under the dim barn lights. “So what happens when you tell your father you hate apples?”
“I won,” Paul said, feeling a compulsive need to point out that his apple went much farther than Danny’s, the competitive streak in him not reserved for sports. “By a long shot.”
“Big fucking deal, hot shot, what’d you want, a gold star for it?” Danny snapped as he ran his hand along the fence. “Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”
“Oh,” Paul said, pulling a face. “He made me eat them until I liked them.”
Danny shrugged. “That’s not so bad. By your father’s standards that’s almost nice.”
Usually he would have let it go at that since complaining about his life never improved it, but he knew Danny was feeling melancholic about his own father and to make him feel better, Paul clarified, “You remember when I missed a whole week of school in second grade?”