Women Within

by Anne Leigh Parrish

  Eunice put down the pen and massaged her forehead. When she saw the ink all over her fingers, she realized she’d gotten it on her face, too.

  She turned on the shower, got undressed, and waited for the hot water to come up. The landlord had promised to replace the water heater the winter before and hadn’t. As she stood there, wrapped in a towel, with her hand in the freezing shower stream, waiting, waiting, waiting, her phone rang just as the water turned lukewarm. She turned off the shower.

  It was Barry, inviting her for lunch. He and Moonshine had just broken up, he said. He realized they had different goals, and that kind of situation never worked out in the end.

  “So, you’re on the rebound,” Eunice said.

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about seeing a man who just got out of a relationship.”

  “I’m making roast beef sandwiches. The cook had a lot left over from yesterday. No one ordered the French Dip. Can’t remember the last time that happened.”

  “That’s a non-sequitur.”

  “Agreed. It’s also what’s for lunch.”

  “Give me half an hour.”

  Eunice showered and dressed in gray stretch pants and a pink turtleneck. She was still thin, “wiry,” Moonshine said. In the years they’d known each other, Moonshine had put on a fair amount of weight. She complained about it, then ate another cookie. Eunice wondered if she was doing the right thing by accepting Barry’s invitation, and wanted to ask Moonshine’s advice. Under the circumstances, though, that would be a really bad idea.

  They ate in a separate room at the back of the bar. Sometimes people wanted to have private parties, and the noise of the front room was unpleasant, Barry said. The wooden chairs were very comfortable, and Eunice liked the soft light from the red lampshades on the wall sconces. The tablecloth was a cheerful red and white checkerboard. Barry asked if she wanted a beer, and she said an iced tea would be great. He look distracted for a moment, trying to remember if they had any tea. The guy who served them, a college kid with the name “Nick” on his shirt, assured Barry that they did.

  “Of course. For Long Island Iced Tea. I must be getting old, not remembering a thing like that,” he said.

  Eunice picked the beef off of her sandwich, which left mustard, horseradish, and mayonnaise smeared over the sourdough roll. Barry watched her closely.

  “I’m a vegetarian,” Eunice told him. That had been a recent development. Coming back from visiting her mother in the country on a beautiful spring day, Eunice had stopped on the road to watch a bunch of pigs wandering a nearby sty. The piglets were charming, and her heart filled with love. She’d always admired cows, but they didn’t stir her quite as much as those little pigs. She’d grown fond of chickens, too. Jean kept a number at her place, and they boldly approached Eunice, and chirped in high, pretty voices when she extended her hand.

  “You want a salad, maybe?” Barry asked.

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  He finished his sandwich and dabbed his lips daintily on the heavy linen napkin. He wore a pinkie ring with a red stone. On the other hand was a class ring on the fourth finger, and a thick gold bracelet. His hair was thick and neatly combed. His face, though, was where age had taken hold. He had bags under his eyes, and his neck sagged into the collar of his shirt. Eunice knew she didn’t look as old. She was blessed with good genes, maybe, and the fact that she stayed pretty thin no doubt helped.

  “I need to pick your brain about something,” she said.

  His hands were around his coffee cup, which he hadn’t touched.

  “I’m thinking of going into business, starting a home-care agency. I could run it from my place, I think, so I wouldn’t need a physical space. I just don’t know what’s involved—how much money, I mean. And all the hoops to jump through. I figure, you’re a business owner, yourself, though home care and running a bar aren’t the same at all, really.”

  “I take care of plenty of people right out there, every day,” Barry said, nodding to the main room. “But, your point is well taken.”

  He looked thoughtful for a moment.

  “You need a license. That would be a state thing, not federal. You have to hire people—they have to be credentialed. You need to pay salaries, insurance, and stay on top of your bookkeeping. Payroll taxes are a bitch. Then you have to file estimated income tax with the IRS every quarter, including Social Security and Medicare. And, this is probably the hardest thing about being in business for yourself, you need to fire people when it’s called for, and that’s not always easy. You get all kinds of sob stories, but in my experience, when someone screws up, you know in your gut if they’re likely to do it again. Learn to trust that gut. I’ve had to fire a lot of people here over the years, and in a small town like Dunston, you run into those same folks from time to time, no getting around it. So, always keep it amicable.”

  “Like a divorce.”

  He looked at her sharply. She had no idea why she’d said that. The server took their plates away.

  “You need to put up some money in the beginning, for the license and advertising. Have you thought about advertising at all?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Lindell might help.”

  “Don’t see how. I’d be sort of a competitor.”

  “Completely different market. You take care of people in their homes before they’re ready for a place like Lindell. You could become a referral source. Lindell might like that, even though they probably have a waiting list. Do you know if there’s a waiting list?”

  “No.”

  “Well, find out. If there’s not, say what you’re thinking of doing and ask if they’d be interested in having you spread the word, for a modest monthly fee, of course.”

  “Why would they help me? I’d be quitting them to do this.”

  “They wouldn’t take it personally. At least, they shouldn’t. Never take anything personally in business.”

  Eunice considered everything he’d said. It was overwhelming. Maybe she should forget all about it and resign herself to being a Lindell employee until the day she retired.

  He said he had to go see a distributor over in Corning. Did she want to come along for the ride? Unless she had plans for the rest of her day, of course. Eunice had none.

  Barry’s car was huge and quiet, so quiet that the passing country took on a strange, eerie quality. The trees swayed in the brisk wind, as though filled with the spirits of an ancient race. At first, Eunice was uncomfortable and thought she should start some cheerful banter to fill the gap, but after a while, with neither of them talking, she became easier in her mind, if not exactly peaceful. Gliding through the world was always calming, and sometimes she took herself out for a drive just for that very reason, but her car wasn’t in the best shape with almost one hundred and fifty thousand miles on it.

  “You ever been married?” Barry asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Ever come close?”

  “Once.” Only in her own mind, she told herself, since it had never crossed Carson’s once.

  “Any kids?”

  “What is this, an interview?”

  “Just trying to get to know you a little better.”

  “Sorry. I’m just not used to anyone…”

  “Giving a shit?”

  Eunice took in his profile. His snub nose was the only problem. It lent his face a childish quality she found troublesome. She supposed she could get used to it, in time.

  “More or less,” she said.

  The road followed a creek. On one side, the land rose in a long, gradual slope. The fields were d
otted with cattle and sheep. She thought about her mother, living at Jean’s. For the first time, she wondered if she were happy there.

  “Your parents living?” Barry asked.

  “My mother. Dad died a while ago.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Delivered liquor.”

  “Man after my own heart.”

  “Siblings?”

  “Just me.”

  Eunice flipped down her sun visor. It had a light that went on when you slid the panel over the mirror open. She looked at herself. Her reflection was uninspiring.

  “I should dye my hair,” she said.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Not crazy about all this gray.”

  “Women worry too much about how they look.”

  “You say these things to Moonshine?”

  Barry laughed.

  “Truth be told, I don’t think Moonshine had much use for me,” he said.

  “I’m not sure how much she likes men. I don’t mean that she’s gay or anything, but the opposite sex seems to make her mad, more than anything else. That can’t have been easy, given she’s got two sons.”

  “She has kids?”

  “She didn’t tell you that?”

  Barry shook his head.

  “Weird.”

  The wind picked up, and dirt from a newly plowed field rose madly in swirling plumes. She imagine a barren plain where there was nothing to stop the wind, nothing to stop the endless dust it carried.

  “You like silent movies?” Eunice asked.

  “Can’t say I ever saw one.”

  “Really?”

  “How old do you think I am?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Barry’s smile said he was just pulling her leg.

  She told him about The Wind, where Lillian Gish plays Lety, sought after by three different men, one of whom she agrees to marry although she doesn’t love him. He lives in the middle of nowhere, where the wind howls day and night without end. He takes a job herding cattle to earn the money to send her home, where’d she be more comfortable and away from the dirt that coats everything, even the pillow where she lays her head. In the end Lety survives the madness brought on by nature’s cruelty, and discovers that she loves her husband after all.

  “Sounds like a tough lady,” Barry said.

  “I always wanted to be like her.”

  “Like who? The actress, or the character she played?”

  This distinction had never occurred to Eunice. Though she went by many different names, in all sorts of places, Lillian was always just Lillian in her mind.

  “Everyone needs a passion. That’s what my mother used to say,” Barry said.

  “And you? What’s your passion?”

  She could see him thinking about it.

  “I thought once I wanted to help people,” he said.

  “That’s a worthwhile ambition.”

  “Police officer, firefighter. Something like that.”

  “And?”

  “I got married, had kids, my wife wanted me to earn a living, so I bought the bar from my dad. And here I am.”

  Was there bitterness in his voice? Or just resignation that things hadn’t quite gone the way he wanted them to? They were essentially in the same boat, he and Eunice, weren’t they? Though her goals had never been quite as clear as his, life had still gotten in the way—in the form of Baxter Bain ripping her off. It didn’t matter that she knew she’d been foolish and would never repeat the same mistake again. That money would have made one life possible. Without it, she’d been stuck with another.

  “You ever wanted to kill someone?” she asked.

  “Sometimes.”

  “I guess that’s normal.”

  “Until you actually do it.”

  Eunice laughed. He got her, she could tell.

  The road bent sharply, and he took it a little too fast. She didn’t mind. He seemed to, from the set of his jaw and how he shifted in his deep leather seat. Maybe he was one of those men who didn’t like making even small mistakes in front of a woman, though somehow she didn’t think so.

  The land was opening up now, with the steep slopes falling back and away. She told him about Baxter Bain. She left out the romance part, framing it in terms of a straightforward swindle made possible by her trusting nature. The way Barry smirked for a moment said he understood exactly what had taken place. Then his face became serious again.

  “I just read something in the paper about that guy. He served his sentence, been out for a while now, and works with a developer in Binghamton.”

  “You’re kidding! Who the hell would hire that crook?”

  “Guess he rustled up some money to sweeten the pot.”

  “Someone else’s money.”

  “Good PR, having a human interest story. ‘You’re never too old to change your ways.’”

  Eunice snorted. Barry looked at her quickly before turning back to the road ahead.

  “Give him a call. You’re clearly interested,” he said.

  “I give him anything, it won’t be a call.”

  “My kind of girl.”

  Eunice considered his remark.

  They were on the outskirts of Corning now, passing through a run-down light industrial area. Barry pulled into the parking lot next to a one story concrete building and turned off the car.

  “You’re welcome to come in and meet Joe,” he said.

  “Sure, if you like.”

  Barry reached across her, opened the glove compartment, and removed a gun that he slipped into his waistband. He didn’t look at Eunice. He asked her to close the compartment for him. She did.

  “Maybe I should stay here,” she said.

  “Come with me.”

  She followed him. They entered the building through a back door, went down a short hallway, and into a small office where a man sat at a desk sorting a stack of papers. He looked up at Barry, nodded, and gestured to one of two empty chairs on the other side of the desk. He glanced at Eunice and made no further acknowledgment of her. Barry and Eunice sat.

  Barry and the man—Joe—exchanged a few pleasantries about the good weather, the easy drive, how well Barry’s business was doing.

  “College towns are always good business,” Joe said, ruefully. Eunice sensed some opportunities missed out on, some chance he wished he could get back.

  “Rich kids like to party,” Barry said. He reached into the pocket of his sport coat, removed a thick envelope, and put it on the desk.

  “Same as last time. Tell Kelly I need it tomorrow,” he said.

  Joe took the envelope and put it in the drawer on his side of the desk. He locked the drawer and put the key in his pants pocket.

  “His mother’s sick. Might not get there until the day after,” Joe said.

  “Tomorrow,” Barry said.

  Joe nodded.

  Barry stood up, Eunice did, too. They left the office, returned the way they came, and got back into Barry’s car. He put the gun in the glove compartment. He didn’t start the engine.

  “There’s a reason I wanted you to see that,” he said.

  “To show me the real you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you ran a bar.”

  “I do. I sell liquor. I also sell other things in demand by a college crowd.”

  “What makes you think I won’t tell the police?”

  Barr
y looked tired all of a sudden.

  “What would you tell them?” he asked.

  “Everything.”

  “Did you hear us mention drugs?”

  “No.”

  “Did you see what was in the envelope I passed Joe?”

  “No.”

  “So you heard nothing incriminating; you saw nothing incriminating.”

  “Your gun.”

  “Purchased legally.”

  Eunice stewed. She was being manipulated, that much was clear.

  “Why are you trusting me with such a big thing?” she asked.

  “Because I like you.”

  “Why?”

  Barry stared at her for a long moment.

  “You don’t think much of yourself, do you?” he asked.

  “Never saw a reason to. But I don’t think I’m shit either. Which is why I’m not going to get jerked around.”

  Barry started the car.

  “You’re straightforward and unpretentious. I like that. I like that a lot,” he said.

  “Then you must have spent time with a bunch of stuck-up flakes.”

  “Indeed I have.”

  Eunice wondered if Barry included Moonshine in that group.

  They drove in silence for a long time. Eunice decided Barry was on the level, but probably not the sort of person she wanted to get close to. She’d be the first person to admit that her life was boring as hell and that she despaired often over her lousy prospects, but getting involved with a guy who could end up in jail wasn’t a good solution.

  “Give it up,” she said.

  “What?”

  “The drugs. Stop selling them.”

  “Money’s too good.”

  “What do you need money for? The bar does okay, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You got out-of-control debts or something?”

  “No.”

  “You’re just greedy, then.”

  Barry shrugged.

  “You get used to things,” he said.