The Untouchables by J.J. McAvoy Page B

easier,” he snapped, causing Declan and I to laugh.
    “It won’t cost us so much anymore,” I replied, pouring more water over the stones.
    “Care to share?” my father asked. The nosy prick.
    They all waited and I rolled my eyes. “We just donated to a few cemeteries.”
    “This helps how?” Declan pushed.
    “Soldiers die. What better way to bring our product into the country but with the help of Uncle Sam?” They all just stared, as the possibilities sank in.
    “That’s fucking brilliant,” Neal said. “It will become even easier when Colemen becomes President.” He grinned.
    “Mel’s idea?” My father looked at me.
    I glared. My inner brat wanted to say it was teamwork, but it really was Mel’s idea.
    “We’ll also be smuggling in marijuana seeds as well. All of which will be growing in Colorado,” I added, changing the subject.
    Neal looked confused. “Why Colorado?”
    I sighed, feeling the urge to throw a hot rock at his face.
    “Don’t you ever watch the news?” Declan snapped.
    “No, it’s too depressing,” he said. “They start the night off with a ‘good evening’, and then they go on to tell you all the reasons why it’s a shitty night all across the country.”
    My father sighed like he did when we were kids, when we did, or said, something he couldn’t understand.
    “They legalized weed, dipshit,” he said, and I couldn’t help but laugh. It was just a regular Saturday morning with the family.
    “I wonder if the girls’ conversations are like this.” Declan laughed.
    “It’s not and it’s probably killing my poor wife.” I could see her now, thinking of clawing her eyes out with a fork. “One wrong move, you may want to watch the news tonight, Neal.”

MELODY
    “Kill me…” I uttered out loud as they brought another painting for us to bid on. The money they raised would go towards the building of some stupid elementary school.
    “Now come on, ladies, get out those checkbooks, call your husbands if you must. This school is just too important not to!” the peppy woman up front yelled.
    In my fingers was a small fork. I knew I could throw it with just enough force to shut her up. However, Evelyn placed her hand on my wrist—again—and took the fork from me.
    I sighed and sat back in my seat, watching the women pay anywhere from five to nine hundred dollars for any given artwork.
    “Thank you all so much, we’re doing so well, we only have nineteen paintings left! Come on, ladies, I know you want them,” the stupid woman called out again.
    Nineteen more? Nineteen motherfucking paintings more? I can’t do it. I can’t. I will claw my own damn eyes out with a spoon if I have to sit through one more painting.
    Standing up caused them all to turn and look at me, and I put my Stepford wife smile on. “Will $250,000 cover them all?”
    There were gasps, followed by a round of applause as the woman stared at me flabbergasted.
    “Mrs. Callahan, you truly are a Godsend. Thank you so much!” she said, starting the applause all over again. I smiled and waved like a broken doll before taking my seat again.
    “Now we’re going to have to sit through art shows every damn month.” Olivia sighed.
    Then I would buy the paintings every damn month to get it over with.
    “This concludes our afternoon. Your artwork will be shipped to you this evening!” the woman said. I wrote a check, waving it for one of her art-boys to come snatch it up like a wild animal.
    We all but ran out of there, and it wasn’t until we were in the car that Coraline broke out into laughter.
    “Thank God. We came late and it still felt like we had been in there forever.”
    “Now you all know how I feel. How dare you leave me all alone with those people?” Evelyn scoffed, pulling out her phone.
    “I’m sorry, but God comes first, what can I say?” I added, finally able to relax into my seat.
    “I can’t believe you bought all those paintings. Where’re you going to put them?” Olivia