Emmett threw open the door. "Your purse is playin' music and I can't hear the television for it. Who in the hell are you anyway? Jarod, I told you not to bring women in here. She better be gone 'fore Mavis comes home with the groceries or she'll throw you off this ranch on your ass."
Daisy brushed past him on her way inside the house. "Jarod didn't invite me here. You did. Don't you remember? I'm Jarod's wife and Mavis passed on a while back."
"Ah, hell, I forgot. Sometimes I do that but you got to tell your purse to stop playin' music."
"I'll go turn it off right now."
She found her purse sitting on her suitcase at the foot of the staircase. Caller ID showed that the call had been from the Honky Tonk.
She poked in the numbers and waited.
Cathy picked up on the first ring. "Thank God you called back. There's a big fellow named Tinker who's trying to throw me out."
"Put him on the phone," Daisy said.
"Miss Daisy?" Tinker said.
"Tinker, that's Cathy. She's my cousin and she'll be moving in with me and helping at the Honky Tonk. What are you doing in town on Sunday?"
"Out riding my cycle and saw her sitting on the front porch. Told her the Honky Tonk ain't open on Sunday. She swore she was here because y'all was kinfolks. I'll be on my way now. See you tomorrow night. Good-bye, Miz Daisy," Tinker said bluntly.
Daisy held the phone out and sure enough the connection was broken. Before she could hit the buttons to call Cathy back, it rang again.
"Hello."
"Daisy, that is one big, scary man," she said.
"He's my bouncer."
"Why didn't I ever meet him?"
"Because you've only been to Mingus one time and that was on Sunday. Everything else all right?"
"I was watching the sunset. It's gorgeous from here. I may never leave. This Honky Tonk may be my new love."
"I've heard that story before, girl. Only it was named Darrin or Bob or Blake or Jimmy. Six weeks and you'll be ready for a high-powered business suit type job."
"We'll see. There's peace here, Daisy. No wonder you squatted and never came back to Mena. See you tomorrow. I'm dyin' to hear what's goin' on with you and that handsome hunk you let drive your car."
"I'll tell you tomorrow. Good night," Daisy said.
"Good night and thanks for everything," Cathy said.
She hung up before Daisy could even tell her that she was welcome.
When she turned around Jarod was only inches from her face. She gasped, threw up an arm, and took a step back. "You scared me," she said.
"Who hit you?" he asked. The look on her face said it all and enraged Jarod to the point that he wanted to beat half to death whoever had laid a malicious hand on her. Hell, he might even beat him all the way to the cold stage. Daisy was too precious to be anyone's punching bag.
She was still stunned and answered before she thought, "His name was Chris and it was a long time ago. You startled me."
"Tell me about it."
She shook her head. "Nothing to tell. It's in the past. That was Cathy. Tinker stopped by and was fixing to throw her out in the street. Had to clear it up with him. Never thought about him coming into town on Sunday but he was out riding his cycle."
Jarod sat down on the steps. "Why don't you want to talk about Chris hitting you?"
"Dragging it up won't make it different, and besides, it's not a damn bit of your business," Daisy said.
"You are my wife," he said.
"Then I'll tell you a pretend story since I'm a pretend wife. You want the poor pitiful Cinderella story or the one where Daisy O'Dell pumped up her shotgun and made a believer out of a sorry bastard?"
"I wouldn't believe either one and it would take a saint to be married to you in real life," Jarod said.
"I don't see any halos or wings on you," Daisy smarted off.
"Why do I have to pull every damn thing out of you? Why didn't you tell me you were a vet?" Jarod asked.
"I'm not. I'm a vet tech. What I work at doesn't make me who I am, so what the hell difference does it make? You can either like me for who I am or forget it. What I am isn't only a paycheck."
"You are a hard woman, Daisy."
"Yes, I am."
"We've got a couple of hours before bedtime. What do we talk about if you are so picky about your ex?"
Two hours? Daisy looked at the hideous black plastic cat clock hanging on the wall in the foyer. Its eyes blinked and its tail wagged with each second that ticked off. It was only eight o'clock and Jarod expected her to go to bed at ten o'clock?
"Your old girlfriends," she suggested, hoping it would take him until two in the morning to tell about them all.
"Which story do you want?" he asked.
She propped her chin on her hands on the banister, the rails between them like a fence. "The true one," she said.
He shook his head. "You don't show me yours then I don't have to show you mine. You ready to tell all?"
"Not me. I'm going up for a long soaking bath in that claw-foot tub in the bathroom and then I'm going to read a romance book I've brought along. Do I really have to be up and cooking at six?"
"Long before that. He'll be sitting at the table at six cussin' a blue streak if it's not in front of him. Schedule keeps him as sane as possible and at that it barely keeps him livable. After that you just keep him happy. If you don't want to cook, I'll roust something up when I get home."
"I'll have supper ready. Dutiful little wife should cook or else Uncle Emmett might trade me in for Chigger."
Jarod shivered. "Jim Bob can have her. She's loud and crass and—" He stopped when Daisy held up her palm toward him.
"And she's my friend so don't talk about her if you don't want a fight on your hands. Good night, Jarod. Tell Emmett I'll see him at breakfast."
"Good night, Daisy." He moved to one side so she could get past him and wished to the devil she hadn't left him with a visual of her naked in a tub big enough for two.
Chapter 9
Daisy parked Emmett's truck at the side of the Morgan Mill store. It was a combination gas, grocery, hay, and feed store as well as a café. By the time she made it around the tail end, he had the door open and was reaching for his walker. She followed him to the front and opened the door for him.
Inside, the usual convenience store items were stacked on shelves to the left. The checkout counter was to the right, and a couple of tables were in the middle of the store. Four elderly gentlemen looked up from one of the tables.
"Good morning. Coffee any good this mornin'?" Emmett called out.
"Naw, it ain't nothin' but murdered water. These younguns don't know how to make good strong coffee. It'll have to do until we can get home and make up something where you can't see the bottom of the cup if you look down through it. Bring Emmett a cup, darlin', and put it on my tab. Sorry old codger ain't been here in so long I figured he'd done died. We'll celebrate him still kickin'," one fellow said.
The lady that brought the cup of coffee couldn't be classified as a youngun in anyone's language. She was middle-aged, graying, and wore a wedding band on her left hand. She set the coffee in front of Emmett when he sat down and asked, "Where you been keepin' yourself? I ain't seen you in two months."
"Been busy. This is Daisy. She used to own the Honky Tonk up near Mingus until she married my nephew, Jarod, that's come to help me out this summer. She's been my vet for years. Takes care of my dogs and my cattle."
One of the men pulled out a chair and motioned to Daisy. "Well, don't just stand there, sweetheart. Come on over here and sit a spell and visit with us old fellers. What're you drinkin'?"
"Coffee is fine," Daisy said.
"Emmett, you might tell who these good lookin' men are," she said.
He glared at her with narrowed eyes and went on as if she hadn't spoken. "So what's the news?"
The man with the gray rim of hair around his bald head said, "I'm Bob. That'd be Gordon with the mustache. Tillman over ther
e with the bald head and Martin next to him. Emmett's got so old and mean he probably don't even remember our names."
"I know every one of you fools and ain't a one of you good lookin'. Woman who just got married oughtn't to talk like that." Emmett narrowed his eyes again.
"Bullshit," Daisy said.
Emmett shook his finger at her. "Don't you sass me."
"Don't you ignore me. It's nice to meet you, Bob, Gordon, Tillman, and Martin," she said.
"I wasn't ignoring you. If I'd have wanted you to know these old farts' names I woulda told you at first," Emmett argued.
"We going to fight all morning or you going to drink that coffee before it gets cold?" Daisy asked.
He picked up the coffee and turned his shoulder away from her. "Anyone died?" he asked.
"Dick Tompson did," Bob said.
"Damn, he ain't nothin' but a kid." Emmett shook his head slowly.
"Wasn't but sixty-six," Tillman told him.
"That's too bad. What got him?"
"Had a ridin' accident. Horse fell on him and crushed his chest. They say he went in a flash," Martin said.
"That's the way to go. Better'n dyin' an inch at a time," Emmett said.
"Been hot enough for you?" Tillman asked.
"Oh, hell, it gets any hotter and the damned old horny toads is going to start off for the north in search of water," Emmett said.
"Leave them to their cussin' and discussin' and come on over here and talk to me," the lady whispered when she'd refilled the coffee cups.
Daisy nodded and followed her to the other table. "I'm Daisy. You run this place?"
"I'm Nita. My family owns and runs this place. When did you and Jarod get married?"
"Week ago Sunday."
"Y'all known each other long?"
"Just a few weeks." The hole was getting deeper and Daisy didn't know how to stop digging.
"One Wing in the Fire" by Trent Tomlinson began playing on the radio sitting beside the cash register. Tomlinson sang about his father being an angel with no halo and one wing in the fire.
The waitress looked at Emmett. "That singer had to have known old Emmett. He's a good man but a rough one."
Daisy was so glad to have the subject changed she would have discussed the price of a bag of cow manure. "Well, he hasn't got a halo and if he's got wings one is definitely in the fire."
"That's the gospel truth. Don't know how Mavis put up with him. She was the saint, I'm tellin' you, and it's a good thing she went before him so she could talk God into lettin' him inside the pearly gates. Without her up there beggin' and pleadin', Emmett wouldn't have a fart's chance in a class five tornado of gettin' past the pearly gates. Heard he only had a few weeks to live. That right?"
Daisy nodded. "Kidney failure, old age, and Alzheimer's."
"Don't let him fool you. He hasn't got Alzheimer's. He's got pure old mean and cantankerous. There's a difference."
Daisy smiled.
"Y'all women through jawin' about us men?" Emmett called across the room.
"We got better things to talk about than an old goat like you," Daisy yelled back.
Tillman slapped Emmett on the shoulder. "She's like Mavis, ain't she? No wonder you're glad she's married Jarod. Be like havin' Mavis back in the house."
"Naw, she's sassier than Mavis. She had to be to run the Honky Tonk, and let me tell you something, ain't nobody gets rowdy in that place. She'd throw them out on their asses so quick they'd wonder if they'd sprouted wings and were flyin'. She keeps a shotgun hid by the door and it's loaded and I reckon she's fired it before."
"You braggin' on her?" Bob asked.
"Damn right. I'm proud to have her in the family. She'll keep my nephew on the straight and narrow." Emmett motioned for her. "Now if you're done tellin' stories on me and Jarod we'll be gettin' on home. It's my nap time."
Daisy didn't move. "And if I'm not?"
"Then I'll leave your pretty little hind end settin' right there and you can wash dishes for your dinner and supper and hitch a ride back to the Honky Tonk tonight to work."
She got up slowly. "Guess I'd better drive you home then."
Maybe Nita had been right. He sure seemed lucid enough in that moment.
She helped him into the truck as much as he'd let her and drove north from the Morgan Mill store. She made a left-hand turn on Farm Road 1188 and in less than ten minutes turned back to the left again onto the Double M ranch.
Jarod came out of the house to the truck to help Emmett when Daisy parked. "Where'd you two go this morning?"
Emmett slapped Jarod's hands away when he offered him his arm for support. "I can get out by myself. I don't need your help. We been over to Morgan Mill. Had to introduce the new member of the family to the boys, didn't I? Wouldn't want anyone to think I was ashamed of her just because she used to run a beer joint."
Daisy's temper jacked up into high gear. "Why should you be ashamed of me because of my job? I do an honest night's work for an honest dollar."
"That sounds like you are a hooker. You ain't been doin' more work after hours in the back room, have you? Good God, Jarod, I told you to make sure you wanted a woman like this before you married her, but oh, no, you had to run off to Oklahoma. Didn't even ask me and your momma if we'd like to be there when you married and you're Frankie's baby son. God Almighty, but she's goin' to be mad as hell when she finds out. I might just tell her tonight when she calls. And where's that jackass that I'm supposed to tell stories to all afternoon? Tell me that, would you, instead of tryin' to help me around like I'm an old man." He fumed and fussed all the way into the house.
Jarod slapped the leg of his overalls. "What in the hell did I say that set him off that time?"
"It wasn't you. It was me. And I'd bet dollars to doughnuts he's not got an ounce of Alzheimer's. When he doesn't want to answer something or he gets caught between a rock and a hard place he goes off the deep end and accuses everyone around of anything he can think of. He's sharp as a razor and knows exactly what he's doing."
"Then let's march in there and tell him we aren't married."
"Not me," Daisy said. "He's already outted me. I'm married to you for better or worse and in sickness and health until death do us part and that means death of one Emmett McElroy."
"Why are you staying if you think he's pulling the wool over our eyes?"
She shrugged. "Guess I'm afraid of the possibility I'm wrong."
"Maybe it won't go any further than Morgan Mill and they'll all think he's crazy and talkin' out of his head about us being married."
"I hope so," she sighed.
***
Daisy pushed knickknacks to one side of the dresser to set her makeup kit down. She looked around the room at all the clutter and shivered. What if all those little beady black eyes looking at her from ceramic animal faces came to life at night like in that movie she'd seen as a child? If she was going to stay in the room for weeks it had to go. Emmett never came upstairs anymore. She'd bring empty liquor boxes from the Honky Tonk and pack it all up in boxes and shove them under the bed. She was putting eye shadow on when Jarod poked his head in the door.
"Yes?" She looked up at him in the mirror.
"You will come back?"
"Yes, I'll be back. He'd have a hissy if I didn't. I'll be up at six for breakfast and then whatever I need to do to make him happy."
Jarod sat down on the bed and the springs squeaked. He pulled the bedspread up to find the old metal springs under the mattress. He bounced and they screeched again. He flipped back and started a steady rhythm by bouncing his butt up and down.
"Stop that," she hissed. "It's annoying as hell."
"What does it sound like?"
"It sounds like we're… isn't the living room right below this room?"
"Yep, it is and if he wants to play the marriage game, we can too. Want to give me a couple of good loud moans and some loud panting?"
"I do not! I'm going to slip out the front door so I don't have to look
at him when I leave. This is embarrassing!" she whispered.
Jarod speeded up and then stopped it suddenly. "How was that? Was it as good for you as it was for me?"
"God, Jarod," she exclaimed forgetting to whisper.
"Ah, Daisy, you were wonderful," he said loudly.
Her cheeks were flame red. "I will get even."
Jarod eased off the bed with a loud moan. He bent and kissed the back of her neck. "That was wonderful, darlin'," he said in the same loud voice.
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