“Don’t get up on my account,” he said, his voice low. “I’m here to talk, Maddy.”
She looked at him earnestly. “I’m glad,” Maddy said. “I hate the way we ended things yesterday.”
Thuy saw Drill’s Adam’s apple bob, and his eyes looked melancholy. “I… it took me by surprise,” he admitted.
Maddy looked sad in response. “I know,” she said. “I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it up to you, and I think I’ve got a couple…”
“I think you should sell the farm.”
Maddy sighed. “I know. But I’m not going to. I hope you can understand that.”
Thuy felt a little out of place. “Maybe I should let you guys discuss this in private,” she hedged.
“No. You’re staying. This affects you, too,” Maddy said. Thuy knew that while Maddy was including her because this was her future, too, she also looked like she needed some moral support. Thuy nodded, taking a seat next to Maddy.
Drill turned a chair backward, straddling it, so they all sat at the table, like it was a business meeting. Which, Thuy supposed, it was, even if it was filled by a hugely pregnant woman, a menacing bald biker, and a dirt-smudged Asian woman.
“I don’t think it’s fair that you get to make this decision without my say-so,” Drill said, his voice sharp.
“I didn’t set up the will, Dad did,” Maddy countered. “He wanted it to stay in the family. He wanted someone to work it. So whoever was willing to work it got to keep it. I’m willing to stay, you aren’t. So, it’s going to be mine.”
Drill sighed. “Here’s the thing, though. You can’t work it.”
Maddy bristled. “And why not?”
Drill looked at her like she was insane. Then he glanced down at her stomach.
“Being pregnant doesn’t make me useless,” Maddy said, her blue eyes sparking. “Lots of mothers before me worked the land, believe me.”
“Yeah. With their husbands,” Drill said. “They had help. It wasn’t just a pregnant woman plowing the back forty.”
“I’ll have help,” Maddy protested.
“Besides that,” Drill said, in a reasonable tone that had Thuy’s teeth on edge, “it’s not like it used to be. Family farms are harder and harder to stay afloat, you know that. Most farmers I know have a day job, too, just to make ends meet.”
Thuy saw Maddy’s expression falter a bit. “Well, if I need to…”
Thuy felt a rumbling of unease.
“You’re going to, what? Have a day job, and do all the work that a farm needs? All while you’ve got a baby to take care of?” Drill’s voice gentled. “And who’s supposed to take care of the baby while you’re working, huh? I don’t know a lot about it, but sounds like daycare costs a whole wad of cash.”
Thuy sank a little lower in her chair. She hated to admit it, but he was making sense.
“I’ll keep working with the nurseries,” Maddy said. “Dad has a good business set up there. I can work with farmer’s markets once I get produce set up. I can have the baby with me while I’m working in the greenhouse. And besides, Thuy is going to help me.”
Thuy immediately felt Drill’s scrutiny as his sharp blue gaze turned to her.
“Ever worked on a farm before?” he asked, even though she was sure he’d guessed that she damned well hadn’t.
“No.” She straightened, lifting her chin pugnaciously. “But I can learn.”
“You got the side-by-side stuck in a ditch,” he said. “Getting the mail.”
She looked over at Maddy, whose eyes widened almost comically.
“Are you all right?” Maddy asked quickly.
Thuy felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Yes, I’m fine,” she reassured her friend. She then glared at Drill. “It was my first time driving it.”
“Do you know how easy it is to get hurt? A cow steps on your foot. You get a piece of clothing caught in some machinery. You flip the tractor over on you.” He stared at her, as if by sheer intensity he could burn the words into her brain. “And even if you don’t have anything go wrong, there’s the sheer work of being on a farm. You need to move hay bales, and feed cattle. Maintaining farm equipment. Taking care of the million little things that need taking care of. It’s not some day job you can call in sick to, or leave at the office.”
Thuy felt a little sick to her stomach. She’d been a city kid, admittedly, all her life. What the hell did she know about any of this?
She looked over at Maddy for help, and saw her best friend’s expression, pleading with her.
“Thuy is stronger than you think,” Maddy said to her brother, but her eyes never left Thuy’s face.
Suddenly, Thuy remembered their sophomore year at Berkeley. The year everything had changed. She’d lost all hope. But Maddy had been there, believing in her.
You’re stronger than you think, Maddy had said stubbornly.
Thuy had never had someone believe in her like that. Someone who had supported her, and convinced her that her wild dreams of getting a college education and making something more of her life were more than just dreams.
Maddy needed her help now. And she’d be damned if she let her friend down.
Thuy turned to Drill, feeling purpose and determination well up in her like a geyser. “I will do whatever it takes to help your sister keep the farm,” she said, in a low-voiced oath. “I know it’ll be hard. But I’ve done hard things in the past, and trust me, I can do this.”
Drill stared at her for a long minute.
“I’ll bet you have,” he said, his voice tinged with a grudging admiration.
Maddy sighed. “I have been thinking about how to make this more equitable,” she said. “I was thinking some profit-sharing, until I can buy you out…”
Drill waved his hand. “That’s making the assumption that there will actually be profits,” he said, pissing Thuy off. Even if she’d initially had similar thoughts.
Maddy’s mouth pulled into a tight line.
Drill stood up. “Listen. I know this is what you want now, but I want you to think about it. It’s going to be winter here… we’ve got the holidays coming up, and nobody’s going to want to buy farmland until early spring,” he said, his voice imminently and infuriatingly reasonable. “And you haven’t even had the baby yet. You still might change your mind.”
“I’m not,” Maddy said, her voice flat.
He looked at Thuy. Thuy glared back at him.
He sighed heavily. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, heading for the door.
“If it’s about me selling,” Maddy called after him, “don’t bother.”
He shook his head, then left.
“Oh my God,” Maddy said. “Could he be more condescending? I know how hard running a farm can be! It’s like he forgot I grew up here, just like he did!”
Thuy reached over, patting her on the shoulder. “We’ll just have to prove him wrong, then,” Thuy said.
But even as she said it, her stomach knotted. Her burst of confidence slowly wilted, as Maddy continued to rant.
Can I do this? Thuy thought, feeling suddenly shaky. Because the last thing she wanted was to let her friend down.
Chapter Fourteen
To Drill’s surprise, Catfish was waiting for him at the Dragon Bar, perched on a barstool and watching the door. “We need to talk,” he said without preamble, motioning Drill to follow him.
Ah, shit, what now? After his disappointing and frustrating talk with Maddy, the last thing he wanted was to hear more bad news. Catfish was wearing his serious expression — pretty much the only expression he wore, for the past six months — and his edgy impatience and hawk-like pounce meant that whatever it was, Catfish wanted it dealt with. Immediately.
They were in the office, and Dirty Dave was waiting there, throwing a knife at a dartboard. He looked over, taking a swig from a beer bottle. “So? You take care of things?”
Drill blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”
Dave scowled at
him. Catfish’s expression grew more irritated. “The farm, Drill. When’s it going up for sale?”
Drill scowled back at both Dave and Catfish. What the fuck was Catfish doing, talking to Dave about this, anyway? “It’s not,” he said. “At least not right now. My sis… Maddy dug her heels in. She’s being stubborn, hasn’t thought it through. She keeps saying she wants to keep it.”
“Women.” Dave spat the word out like a curse. “Always fucking things up.”
Catfish’s face went carefully blank. “That’s not what I wanted to hear.”
“I know. Trust me, it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, either.” Not because of the club, either, or at least not only because of it. He was genuinely worried about Maddy and Thuy, and their chances on the farm without any help. It was going to be a brutal undertaking, one he wasn’t sure either woman fully understood or was prepared for. He thought of Thuy, stuck in the ditch.
Jesus wept. They were in for a rough road.
“You say she hasn’t thought it through,” Catfish said, drawing out his words. “So, you’re thinking she might come to her senses?”
“God, I hope so,” Drill muttered. Then he cleared his throat. “I mean, she’s pregnant and she only has her city friend to help her…”
“Her girlfriend, you mean?” Dave wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Heard about her in town. Can’t believe your sister’s a lez!”
Immediately, Drill pictured plunging his fist right in Dave’s dirty face. He suppressed the urge. “It’s her friend,” he corrected. “But who gives a shit?”
“She’s not his sister anymore. And I don’t care what she is,” Catfish said, and Dave shut up with a small smirk. “Gay, straight, doesn’t fucking matter. She’s getting in the way of business, Drill.”
Drill felt his muscles lock in surprise. Catfish’s brain was working — he could see that. What worried him was Catfish’s announcement.
She’s getting in the way of business.
“How likely is she to stay stubborn?” Catfish asked, his brown eyes probing.
Drill squirmed. He didn’t want to give Catfish false hope, but he didn’t like where this was going. “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “She can be very stubborn. But I figure by the time spring hits and the baby gets here, she’s going to realize just how tough it really is, and give up. Besides, that’ll probably be a better time to put the farm up for sale.”
“No,” Catfish said, and his tone was patient, like he was schooling a kid. “You want to sell the thing before spring, so whoever buys it has time to plan and… I don’t know, plant and shit. Besides, it takes a while to sell land. If it goes up for sale in early spring, might not get the money until, what, late spring? Maybe early summer?”
Drill shrugged. “How the hell should I know? I don’t know real estate.”
Dave nodded. “There’s stuff like closing, that can take like forty-five days,” he said, sounding surprisingly intelligent. “And there’s inspections. And financing stuff can fall through. You want to give plenty of time — the first buyer’s not gonna work out, more likely than not.”
There was a reason Dirty Dave was their money guy, Drill realized.
Catfish was frowning, thoughtful. “The sooner it goes on the market, the better,” he summarized.
Drill really didn’t like where this was going.
“She needs to see the light, then,” Catfish drawled. “Like, right fucking now.”
“I can keep talking to her,” Drill said immediately. “She might not like it, but she’ll see it makes sense. She’s just got all these hormones and stuff, and she’s still overwhelmed by my dad’s death. She just needs a little time.”
“We don’t have time.” Catfish’s voice was a low growl.
Now it was Drill’s turn to frown. “What the hell is going on?”
Catfish looked at Dave, who shrugged, then walked over, pulling his knife from where it was embedded in the dartboard. “You know we’ve been taking hits. Losing members. Losing some of our biggest money makers,” Catfish said. “Somebody took money, too. Cleaned out some of our hidden reserves.”
Drill couldn’t help it. He shot a look over at Dave.
Dave held up his hands, which would’ve looked more convincing if he didn’t have a switchblade in one of them. “Hey, if I was stupid enough to grab the money, I wouldn’t still be here,” he said, with a chuckle.
Drill thought he might be smart with money, but he might be just that stupid. Still, he turned back to Catfish.
“We’ll make it,” Catfish continued. “But I won’t lie, that farm of yours would mean the difference between scrabbling on the streets like damned losers trying not to get patched over, and being back on top, on our turf. Just like we used to be. We could finance more ops, get more rackets going, attract more than just the dregs. Get some of our own back.”
Drill sighed. He knew, he knew he ought to be more interested in what Catfish was saying. He ought to be on board with Catfish’s plan. But he just felt exhaustion hit him like a wave.
What difference does it make? So what if the Wraiths got taken over by a bigger club? It’d be the same shit, different day.
And I’m getting really tired of it.
“I’ll talk to her,” Drill said again. “I’ll do everything I can to get her to see reason. I can’t promise more than that.”
Catfish tilted his head, then chuckled softly. The sound raised the hairs on Drill’s arms. He’d only heard his friend chuckle like that before they did some seriously questionable shit.
“I think,” Catfish said slowly, “that we can convince the little lady pretty damned quick.”
Dave cackled. Drill’s blood went ice cold.
“Catfish,” he said, his voice holding a note of warning. “I said, I’ll talk to her.”
Catfish’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not your sister. She’s not your family. We are.” He slammed a hand on the desk, emphasizing his point.
“Is this what it means to be in the club now? Terrorizing pregnant women?” Drill put every ounce of disgust he could into his voice.
“If it means saving the Wraiths, hell yes,” Catfish countered. “Are you getting squeamish on me now?”
“There’s worse we could do,” Dave added, with a crooked smile. He threw the knife, which landed with a thunk inside the outer ring of the dartboard.
Drill couldn’t help it. He took a menacing step toward the older man, whose eyes widened in surprise. Dave took a step back. Catfish moved between them, shoving Drill a step back.
“Listen. We came up at around the same time. We’re brothers,” Catfish said. “I know how you feel about Maddy. You always looked out for her, even when you didn’t think anybody noticed. Yeah, I knew,” he said, when Drill made a reflexive sound of protest. “Because I need you on board with this, I’ll give you until December to change her mind. That’s because you’ve put in sixteen years in this club, and I know you’ll do the right thing.”
Drill grunted.
“But if you don’t change her mind,” Catfish said pointedly, “then we’re going to. Got it?”
Drill gritted his teeth. Then he nodded, once, a sharp motion.
“Good.” Catfish sat down. “Now. We’ve got some collections I’m gonna need you to handle. It’s small change — just a couple of G’s — but it’s what you’re built for.”
He means beating guys up. Drill frowned. Gamblers who were late, stupid assholes who decided to take their chances on a quick loan. Drill had done that enough in the past. Darrell and Razor had figured that his farm-boy physique, built from carting hay bales and doing the hard labor of bringing in harvests and taking care of animals, was better used kicking the shit out of people.
“Yeah, okay,” Drill said, taking a seat, glad at least that they weren’t talking about his sister, even as he felt a little… uneasy. “Just tell me who, and when.”
Chapter Fifteen
After the great ditch disaster and Drill’s anti-pep talk,
as well as her inability to access the internet, Thuy spent the weekend going through Maddy’s notes, grocery shopping, and taking back the rental car. Now it was Monday afternoon, and she was driving the big Chevy truck that Maddy’s dad had left behind. She’d made it into town, and was going to the one place she knew would not only make her feel better, it would better prepare her for the challenges ahead.
The library.
She found it more easily than the lawyer’s place, at least, she consoled herself as she pulled into an empty parking spot. She was still getting used to the sheer size of the truck, which was a behemoth next to the old Honda Civic she was accustomed to driving. She scrambled out, reaching down with her toes to touch the ground. With a huff, she slammed the door shut, then headed toward the building. The front windows were decorated for fall, with leaves cut out of multi-color paper and gourds of some sort. It had just been Halloween; they’d be moving on to Thanksgiving soon, then shooting the holiday gauntlet from Christmas to New Year’s. She headed for the front door eagerly.
There was a smell to libraries and bookstores that Thuy always found comforting. She took a deep breath, soaking in the ambiance. Cliché as it probably was, it felt like coming home.
It was a small building — nothing like the cathedral-like libraries at Berkeley, like Doe or the sprawling expanses of Moffitt or Main. Still, there were books, neatly shelved, and plenty of them. There was a bulletin board with flyers advertising local events and services. There was a teen’s night advertised, as well as a local poetry gathering, which she found encouraging. There was a children’s section where she could see lower shelves and a number of colored bean bags. The circulation desk had a woman with curly hair who was helping a patron, discussing something about a mystery author.
Thuy’s gaze stopped when she saw an odd but familiar piece of furniture.
Tell me that’s not a card catalog.
She walked straight to the set of wooden drawers. Holy shit. It really was. She hadn’t seen one of these in years. She pulled out one of the drawers, and sure enough, the little index cards were lined up there like soldiers. For giggles, she picked one at random.
Prose Before Bros Page 8
