Long Black Curl (36 page)

“Hey, hot stuff,” a voice said as she picked up the coffee carafe for another round of refills. She looked to see Junior Damo seated at the counter.

“Hey, there, Junior,” she said neutrally. “Want some coffee?”

“Only if you stick your little finger in it to sweeten it.”

“Junior, I'm really busy. What is it you want?”

“Your cousin's staying with you, ain't she?”

“Which cousin is that? I'm related to damn near everyone in the county, including you.”

“You know which cousin I mean. Who's that big ol' muscle man she's got with her?”

“Some musician, that's all I know.”

“I doubt that, but it ain't important. Tell her I want to talk to her. Alone, without Andr
é
the Giant.”

“Why would anybody want to talk to you, Junior?”

“Just tell her.”

“If I see her.”

He stood up and headed out the door. He passed Snowy on the way in, and they each nodded a greeting.

Tain came around the counter and quickly grabbed Snowy by the arm. “Sit at the counter, I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” he said.

She made her round with refills, cleaned up a few plates, and brought him a cup of coffee. She leaned close and said, “That black boy with Bo-Kate wants to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“He's finally caught on that she's crazy.”

“Or he's doing exactly what she told him to do.”

“I don't think so, Snowy. He's scared.”

“Or he's a good actor.”

“Do you not trust my ability to tell when someone's lying?”

He'd never seen her so nonsexually serious. “No, I trust you.”

“Then will you just
talk
to him?”

“Sure, but somewhere neutral. Have him meet me at the Pair-A-Dice tonight around seven.”

“I'll do the best I can. Thank you.”

She put her hand lightly atop his. They both looked into each other's eyes, each feeling the same thing but not realizing it. Then he got up and left. Tain gazed after him until one of the other waitresses nudged her roughly in the back. Then she made her way to the kitchen, where she took out her cell phone and dialed the number on Nigel's card. Junior Damo's message to Bo-Kate would be the excuse she needed to tell Nigel to meet Snowy.

*   *   *

When Junior got back home, Loretta threw open the door and yelled, “Some woman called here looking for you!”

“Yeah? What'd she want?”

“That tiny little pecker of yours, that's what, ain't it? Who is she, Junior? Is she knocked up, too? How many little bastards you got running around by now?”

Junior pushed roughly past her and went into the house. He turned on the radio in the kitchen, loud, which made Loretta screech that much louder.

“I won't have your whores calling the house, Junior! You want to see them, you make arrangements on your cell phone, not here! You hear me?”

“They can hear you in China,” he said as he dropped into a kitchen chair. Coming home now reminded him of how it felt to be smacked in the head with a two-by-four, which had happened to him when he was fifteen.

Loretta leaned on the counter and clutched her belly. Junior said, “Are you all right?”

“What do you care?” she snarled through her clenched teeth.

The radio played “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.”

“You need me to call Granny Rogen?”

“Is that all you can ever ask? No, it ain't time yet, he's just kicking me because he knows I'm mad. He gets mad, too, when I do.”

“That'll be great,” Junior said, anticipating a lifetime of everyone in the house always yelling at him.

The phone rang again. He picked it up before Loretta could and said, “Hello?”

“I hear you're looking for me, Junior Damo,” a woman's voice said.

“Is this Bo-Kate Wisby?”

“Who else? I tried calling earlier, but your wife or sister or hound dog for all I know started calling me names. I'm not even sure what some of them were.”

“She gets going. She's eight months pregnant.”

“Well, congratu-fuckin-lations. My slutty cousin says you wanted to talk to me. So talk.”

Why did she always corner him when he was off-balance? He'd worked out the perfect speech in his head, but he couldn't do it with Loretta glaring at him. “Not over the phone. Meet me at the Pair-A-Dice tonight.”

She snorted, “Why the hell would I do that? What could you possibly have to tell me that I need to know?”

“You'll find out when you get there,” he said.

“I might see you there, then. But don't get your hopes up.”

He glanced at Loretta. “I haven't had any hopes in a long time.”

The call ended. He turned to look at Loretta, expecting another vicious tirade, but instead she just stared at him in half amazement and half horror. “That was Bo-Kate Wisby?”

“Yeah,” Junior said.

“What are you doing talking with her?”

“Maybe I'm going to fuck her,” he said impatiently.

She grabbed him by the arms, and all the contempt and spite were gone when she said, “Junior, please, don't get messed up in this. We're gonna have a baby in less than a month, I can't do it alone.”

He pulled her hands off. “Nothing's going to happen to me.”

“Don't you know the stories about what all went on before? And look at what happened to Marshall Goins. That woman is a monster.”

“Well, I'll wear a rubber, then.”

“This is no joke! I know you ain't screwin' around on me, and I know you ain't meeting' her to screw
her.
That's—”

That set him off. “If you know it, then why the hell have you been giving me all this shit about it?”

She began to cry. “Look at me, Junior. I'm the size of a goddamned Volkswagen. I'll end up looking just like my mama, and she weighs two hundred pounds. Then you
will
start screwin' around on me.” She sank into a chair.

Junior just stared at her and numbly took a seat at the table. All the weeks of her accusations and viciousness had left him unable to comfort her, so they sat in their chairs, him slumped, her sobbing, neither making any real effort to reach out to the other.

*   *   *

Bo-Kate went into Byron's room. He sat on the edge of the bed, his leg brace on the floor beside him. He was strumming idle notes on his guitar. He looked up when she entered.

“When do we leave?” he said.

“Not today. Today we just stay around here. Let the word spread. Then tonight, I have to go meet somebody. He's an idiot, but he'll be useful. It'll get word to the right people without me having to spend days driving around.”

“Can't you use those magic phones?” he said dryly.

She laughed. “Believe it or not, a lot of the people around here are more primitive even than you.”

“I could take that personally.”

“Aw,” she said, and reached out to touch his cheek.

He grabbed her wrist. She winced and pulled back her hand, but couldn't get free. He said, “Don't
patronize
me, Bo-Kate. I'm out of touch, not a moron. I
will
catch up to this world.”

“I know you will,” she said, and tried again to pull away. “Let me go, Byron. Please.”

“I'll sit in this room today. But tomorrow, you better have something for me to do, or I'll hitchhike into town and take care of business on my own.”

“I will, Byron, I promise.”

He glared at her, then let go. She jumped out of reach as she rubbed her wrist. It was one thing to manhandle her in bed, but a whole other thing to do it like this. Venomously, she said, “Don't ever do that again, Byron.”

“Or what? You'll kill me?” He snorted. “You Tufa have already done that. I'm a fucking ghost, I just haven't dropped over yet.”

“Don't talk that way. You can start over here. Make a new family. No, you won't forget your old one, but it'll make you treasure this one that much more, right?”

“With you?”

“Maybe.”

“You think it's that easy?” he said, and gazed back down at his guitar.

“I didn't say it would be easy. I just said it was possible. I was an exile, too. I know a little of how you feel.”

He looked up at her. “Did you ever have kids?”

“No.”

“Then you have no damned idea how I feel.”

He hummed along with his song, a tune Bo-Kate didn't recognize. She backed out of the room and closed the door. When she turned in the hall, Tain was standing right there. Bo-Kate jumped.

“Dammit, Tain!”

“What was the shouting about?” Tain asked coolly.

“He's got a little cabin fever. Maybe you should go in there and take his mind off it.”

“You're not my pimp, Bo-Kate. I fuck who I want, when I want.”

“Shouldn't you be at work?”

“My shift's from five to one.”

Bo-Kate's expression changed as something occurred to her. “Tell me something, then: Who have you been fucking since I got back?”

“What difference does it make? I haven't touched your British boy toy, or that lummox in the guest room.”

“Makes a big difference if you've been pillow-talking about me.”

“You're not that interesting,” Tain said with a humorless grin. As she started to walk past, Bo-Kate suddenly grabbed her by the hair and slammed her face-first into the wall. She twisted one of Tain's arms behind her and pushed it up painfully until Tain let out a cry.

“Your arm may break, or just come out of its socket, I don't know which,” Bo-Kate hissed. “And I don't care. Answer my question.”

“Fuck you!” Tain said, and struggled to escape, but Bo-Kate pulled her head away from the wall and then slammed it again. Blood trickled from her nose.

“That's not the answer I'm after, Tain. Try again.”

“Let me
go
!”

A door opened, and Byron stepped out. He was shirtless, and seemed larger than a human man should be in the old house's corridor. “What the hell's all the caterwauling about?”

Bo-Kate released Tain with a final shove into the wall. “Nothing. Just cousins being cousins. Go back inside.”

“I will when I feel like it,” he rumbled. To Tain he added, “Are you all right?”

“Why? What do you care?” She wiped the blood from her nose, leaving a smear on her arm. “I hope you rot in hell, Bo-Kate. I hope you get buried up to your neck and covered with honey near an anthill. I hope you live to see your children die.”

Bo-Kate smiled. “I had no idea you had such strong feelings for me, Tain.”

Tain's eyes grew wet, but she turned and stomped off downstairs before she actually began to cry. Bo-Kate crossed her arms and considered going after her, but figured the results wouldn't be worth the effort. Whatever Tain might've passed on, it couldn't possibly upset her plans at this point. It might even help.

“That how you all treat each other?” Byron rumbled. “All you Wisbys?”

She faced him. “Shut up, Byron. Get back in your room and wait for me.”

He looked at her steadily for a long moment, then went inside his room and closed the door.

*   *   *

Snowy was asleep on his couch when the doorbell rang. He sat up and looked at the clock; it was barely eight thirty. Who would be at his house on such a cold, miserable evening without calling ahead?

He opened the door. Tain Wisby stood at the bottom of the steps, a battered old suitcase in her hand. She'd been crying, and her nose was swollen and bloody. “What happened?” he said in alarm.

“Bo-Kate beat me up,” she said. “Want a roommate for a while?”

He stepped aside so she could enter. While she sat at the kitchen table, he got some ice in a sandwich bag and wrapped it in a dish towel. She put it on her nose.

“Thanks,” she said.

“So why did she beat you up?”

“Because I wouldn't tell her about you.”

“Tell her what about me?”

“That I've been telling you about her.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “You want a beer?”

“Good God, yes.”

He got them each a bottle, opened them, and handed one to her. He leaned against the wall beside her as she drank. She asked, “So can I stay here?”

“For how long?”

“How long do you want me?”

“Are you proposing to me?”

She shook her head. “No. But…”

“What?”

“I like other men a lot, Snowy. I like the variety, and the adventure, and the sense of new countries to explore. I'm not going to give that up just to keep a roof over my head.”

“Yep, that's definitely not a proposal,” Snowy agreed.

“No, let me finish. I … I'll live with you, and I'll help you, and I'll—” She took a deep breath to muster her courage. “—I'll make you first choice. But if you're busy, or working, or not in the mood…”

“How hard did Bo-Kate hit you?”

She laughed and clinked the beer bottle against her teeth. She put it down, and the laughs morphed into tears and from there to hard sobs that started her nose bleeding again. Unsure exactly how much comfort to offer, Snowy got her some tissues and waited until she calmed down.

“I'm sorry,” she said at last, holding the blood-soaked tissue to her nose. “It's been a stressful day.”

“Just so I can be clear … you're asking me if you can live with me despite us being from two different groups, but still go out with other men when they attract your attention.”

She nodded.

“Why? I mean, I know why you're here right now, and of course you can stay until this blows over, but why turn this into something semipermanent? Why not just say you need a few days to get back on your feet or something?”