Chapter 6
RISING TIDES
Ialways aim to hit Marge at lunchtime, because she’s a feeder and because most of the time I skip breakfast and it means I can eat whatever she makes for me.
But on the way to my first appointment, the strange cheese-and-squashed-chips sandwich that Rig made for me tastes like the best thing in the world, and my whole morning takes on a brighter hue.
I’m making myself this sandwich every day, even when Rig has gone on his merry way.
Coffee and cake are sitting on Marge’s kitchen counter when I arrive at midday.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I say as she totters around, finding me a plate and a cup, her small dachshund, Dolly, waddling behind her.
Dolly is as old in dog years as Marge is in human years.
She has one of those whiskery dog faces that you could draw for hours.
“How is that last set of meds the doctor gave you working?”
“I’ve been a bit sleepy, dear. Once the television is on in the afternoon, I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. I keep dozing off in my chair.”
I frown at her. “Really?” I dive into the pantry to find her medicine and examine the packet.
“Has Jeffrey been by?” I ask. Jeffrey’s her son and a good-for-nothing. He doesn’t visit his mom much and has an opinion on everything.
“Oh, that boy! He showed up asking for money like he always does.” Her eyes twinkle at me underneath her gray curls. “He did tell me about the fight last night, though. He said you were there.”
I laugh at this. “I was. Come on, you old gossip, we have to get you into the shower for a wash.”
“I used to love going to those fights,” she says as she makes her way slowly toward the bathroom with her hand on the wall. Is she less steady than the last time I saw her? Maybe that is her new tablets. I need to have a word with her doctor.
“I was treating the guys that were injured,” I say.
When we reach the bathroom, I start helping her undress. “Dr. Moreno was there. He had to take someone to the hospital and asked me to step in.”
“You’d be good at that,” she says.
Gah, that’s a kind thing to say. I don’t know why these old ladies are always so nice to me.
“Was it a good fight?” she adds, and the relish in her voice makes me laugh.
“The best. No holds barred.”
“I hear the Bear was down from Chicago, that they were fighting for big money.”
“Did Jeffrey tell you all this, Mrs. McKinnon?”
“Call me Marge, dear. I keep telling you that. And no, I found that out from the man who cleans the streets for the county. He does a bit of fighting in his spare time.”
Someone else who fights in their spare time?
Is this town full of guys who fight? But fair enough—this place would drive you to violence.
Or maybe it’s simply that in a town where there are fighters, other people become fighters, too.
Like for self-protection or even because it’s what everyone does.
In a weird way, it brings people together. There’s money in it, too, obviously.
“He makes some extra cash doing that, I think. But he told me that they ask him to throw games a lot, and that Rigger was up against the Bear. Tough as old boots Rigger was as a kid. I knew his father, Jeremiah.”
“Oh, really?” Finally, some information. I don’t remember Rig from when I was younger.
“Jeremiah owned that farm out on Patterson Way, at least he did until he gambled it away to Tom and Jim Clancy.”
“He lost it gambling? I thought that kind of thing only happened in Westerns or something where the hero goes all out for revenge.” God, imagine losing your home suddenly like that as a kid.
“Oh, there was revenge all right. Jeremiah didn’t take it seriously, and they had to drive him off the land with guns.
Of course, it all went to court, but the judge ruled that it was lawful.
Then Jeremiah went after the Clancy boys, started killing their livestock, and terrorized the families that were living on the farm.
He ended up in jail and was killed in a fight with another man he’d been gambling with inside.
Then one of the cowhands on his old farm turned up dead, and to this day that murder has never been solved. ”
Jesus. “Who lives on the land now?”
“Rig’s mom. She took up with another man after Jeremiah died and persuaded him to buy the land back.
She never forgave Jeremiah for gambling it all away and getting himself murdered.
But there’s no love lost between the boys and their stepfather.
Although I shouldn’t say stepfather: She never married him. ”
She’s stripped off now and I put my hand under her arm as she steps into the water.
Her skin is soft and wrinkled in my hand, fragile like I’m holding bone china, and my throat closes.
I swallow it down and grab the shower cap from the wall, popping it over her gray curls.
“That warm enough, Mrs. M?” I ask as I stick my hand into the spray.
“Lovely, dear,” she says as I pass her the soap. “I never think I want a wash, but I’m always glad when I’ve done it. It’s a bit like sex that way.”
I catch my grin in the mirror over the sink and try to tamp it down. “Do you want me to hold on to you?” I say.
“No dear, I’m fine.”
I pull the curtain across. “You said boys? Rig has brothers?”
“Three sons,” Marge says through the curtain. “A lot of bad blood there.”
“Really? What about?” This is riveting.
“No idea, but they were always fighting. None of them had anything good to say about each other. Both his brothers left here as soon as they could. Rig’s the only one that comes back to help his ma.”
I peer around the curtain at her, and her eyes twinkle at me from under her shower cap. “He’s got a bit of a reputation in town,” she says.
I smile at her as she turns the soap over in her old, gnarled hands. “I’ll share my information if you share yours,” I say, still smiling.
Her wrinkled face beams. “Word has it that he’s very popular with the ladies, for specific reasons,” she whispers.
“And what would that be?”
For the first time since I’ve known her, Marge’s cheeks go pink. “I’ve heard he does particular things in the bedroom, if you get my drift.”
I lean forward, whispering, “I’ve heard that, too.” Not that I’ve seen much evidence of his use of liquids so far.
“Ooo, Lordy!” Marge says and flaps a soapy hand over her face like she’s fanning herself. I giggle. I could complain about this job and how they exploit staff and pay me for shit, but is it that bad? These old ladies are a hoot.
“Not a man to stick with a woman,” she adds as she runs the soap down her arms and across her chest, and a sharp spasm knifes through my gut. Damn my traitorous stomach. I’ve only spent two nights with him.
“Why’s that?”
“He never has. And why would he? All the ladies just come running.” She tries to snap her fingers and wobbles on her legs for a moment, so I put my hand under her elbow again.
He never has? He said he was in a relationship for a couple of years.
“A guy like that …” She shakes her head, scrubbing the soap under her arms.
“He’s not what I’d describe as a typical ladies’ man, though,” I say.
Marge leans forward. “He’s been through hundreds of women, or so I’m told.”
I laugh even as my stomach does another flip. “Is someone counting?”
Marge gives me a crooked grin and taps her nose. “We old gals know everything. Nothing better to do with our time.”
I pull down the showerhead and use it to wash the last bits of foam off her.
“I heard he was in a longer relationship once,” I say, swallowing.
“Oh! I forgot about that. That’d be Sadie. Now there’s a girl who likes to lead a man around by his hoo-ha. From what Agnes tells me, it’s been on and off for years. More on from Sadie’s point of view if you know what I mean.”
On and off for years? Ugh.
“I don’t think, given what happened with his family, that he trusts people much,” Marge adds.
With so many women waiting in the wings, is it likely he’ll take up with someone who’s been around the block and is a little too fond of her drink?
No. No, it isn’t. No matter how nice he is with making me sandwiches and coffee.
And curious though I am, I can’t ask more about this Sadie character or the hundreds of women.
Because all he wants is a place to stay for a few days.
Why has he chosen to shack up with me? I have no idea whether he even likes me or it’s just that the sex is good.
Someday, I’d like to be stronger, something better than a pushover.
But I know in my heart of hearts that that day is going to be a long time coming.
I always end up getting too attached. Either way, I need to pull myself together and remember to treat this for what it is: an amazing time while I have it.
He’s kind of stuck and I’m convenient. Convenient sex, too.