careful if I were you.”
Fannie stood up quick and pulled a twenty-ounce claw hammer from her purse. She raised it high as she stepped around her desk and told Bentley he better get going.
“I heard you were one crazy bitch,” he said.
“You heard right,” Fannie said. “Now get the hell out of here.”
“You don’t get it, ma’am,” he said. “You don’t know what kind of folks you’re messin’ with.”
Fannie smiled. “Son,” she said. “I think you have it the other way around.”
• • •
M illy’s father, Washburn L. Jones, who most folks just called Wash, hadn’t said two words to her since she got off her shift and brought him home his damn Subway sandwich. Extra ham with extra mayo.He grunted as he ate, watching a rerun of
Dancing with the Stars
with his live-in girlfriend, Charlotte, a woman who weighed about three hundred pounds on her lightest day. Charlotte snatched up the pickles he’d tossed aside, munching on them as she tried to tell Milly who had talent on the show and who had flat feet. Charlotte knew she was an expert on the matter since she taught dance and tumbling at a strip mall out by the highway.
“Wadn’t that girl’s daddy killed by a sea snake?” Charlotte said.
Wash grunted and shook his head. “Got barbed by a fucking stingray right in the chest,” he said, wiping the lettuce off his T-shirt. “Where the hell you been, Milly? You said you’d bring me a sandwich.”
“What’s that in your hand?”
“Damn about starved to death,” her daddy said, still chewing. “I said, where were you?”
“Work.”
“They change your shift?”
“I got a second job.”
“Good for you,” Charlotte said. “Baby, you gonna eat those chips?”
“Yeah, but you can have a couple,” Wash said. “Don’t eat ’em all. Shit. Second job? Where?”
“Walmart,” she said. “Pet section.”
“Hmm,” Wash said, turning his eyes on her. “Pets? Ain’t what I heard.”
Milly didn’t say anything, waiting until he swallowed that big wad of sandwich in his cheek. Wash just took another bite, more fixings landing on his white T-shirt, as he watched Bindi Irwin launch into a slow routine with some boy with wild blond hair. She dedicated the dance to her late father, who she called a ray of sunshine.
“I know that boy with her is queer as a three-dollar bill,” Charlottesaid. “But to look at ’em, you’d think they was in love. He’s got a lot of grace about him.”
“Sick,” Wash said. “This goddamn country is headed into the toilet. Damn, don’t eat all the chips. I said, just eat a couple. Son of a bitch.”
“Good night,” Milly said. “I’m beat.”
“You gonna tell us the truth or just lie to our faces?” Wash said, tapping at his chest with his knuckles to stop a burp. “Charlotte got a call that you was out dancing at the titty bar tonight.”
Milly shook her head.
“Right or wrong?” Wash said.
Charlotte looked to Milly and gave a weak smile before shifting her eyes down to the carpet, unsure what to say or do. Charlotte never knew what to say or do unless Wash Jones told her the way. She had on a pair of XXL pink sweatpants and a huge sweatshirt that said DANCE LIKE NO O NE’S WATCHING . Milly didn’t think there was much trouble with that.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Milly said.
“You just like your momma,” Wash said. “Let you loose and you’re a wild-ass whore.”
“Wash,” Charlotte. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t talk that trash.”
“Her momma tosses her out and I open my gosh-dang home,” Wash said. “But I ain’t giving no shelter if she’s gonna whore it out. You know how embarrassing that is? You don’t think people gonna be talking about it?”
“Like when you got busted for running drugs?”
“Shit,” Wash said, shaking his head. He turned away from staring at her and concentrated on the television. The couple had dressed up like they were in
Dirty
Fannie stood up quick and pulled a twenty-ounce claw hammer from her purse. She raised it high as she stepped around her desk and told Bentley he better get going.
“I heard you were one crazy bitch,” he said.
“You heard right,” Fannie said. “Now get the hell out of here.”
“You don’t get it, ma’am,” he said. “You don’t know what kind of folks you’re messin’ with.”
Fannie smiled. “Son,” she said. “I think you have it the other way around.”
• • •
M illy’s father, Washburn L. Jones, who most folks just called Wash, hadn’t said two words to her since she got off her shift and brought him home his damn Subway sandwich. Extra ham with extra mayo.He grunted as he ate, watching a rerun of
Dancing with the Stars
with his live-in girlfriend, Charlotte, a woman who weighed about three hundred pounds on her lightest day. Charlotte snatched up the pickles he’d tossed aside, munching on them as she tried to tell Milly who had talent on the show and who had flat feet. Charlotte knew she was an expert on the matter since she taught dance and tumbling at a strip mall out by the highway.
“Wadn’t that girl’s daddy killed by a sea snake?” Charlotte said.
Wash grunted and shook his head. “Got barbed by a fucking stingray right in the chest,” he said, wiping the lettuce off his T-shirt. “Where the hell you been, Milly? You said you’d bring me a sandwich.”
“What’s that in your hand?”
“Damn about starved to death,” her daddy said, still chewing. “I said, where were you?”
“Work.”
“They change your shift?”
“I got a second job.”
“Good for you,” Charlotte said. “Baby, you gonna eat those chips?”
“Yeah, but you can have a couple,” Wash said. “Don’t eat ’em all. Shit. Second job? Where?”
“Walmart,” she said. “Pet section.”
“Hmm,” Wash said, turning his eyes on her. “Pets? Ain’t what I heard.”
Milly didn’t say anything, waiting until he swallowed that big wad of sandwich in his cheek. Wash just took another bite, more fixings landing on his white T-shirt, as he watched Bindi Irwin launch into a slow routine with some boy with wild blond hair. She dedicated the dance to her late father, who she called a ray of sunshine.
“I know that boy with her is queer as a three-dollar bill,” Charlottesaid. “But to look at ’em, you’d think they was in love. He’s got a lot of grace about him.”
“Sick,” Wash said. “This goddamn country is headed into the toilet. Damn, don’t eat all the chips. I said, just eat a couple. Son of a bitch.”
“Good night,” Milly said. “I’m beat.”
“You gonna tell us the truth or just lie to our faces?” Wash said, tapping at his chest with his knuckles to stop a burp. “Charlotte got a call that you was out dancing at the titty bar tonight.”
Milly shook her head.
“Right or wrong?” Wash said.
Charlotte looked to Milly and gave a weak smile before shifting her eyes down to the carpet, unsure what to say or do. Charlotte never knew what to say or do unless Wash Jones told her the way. She had on a pair of XXL pink sweatpants and a huge sweatshirt that said DANCE LIKE NO O NE’S WATCHING . Milly didn’t think there was much trouble with that.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Milly said.
“You just like your momma,” Wash said. “Let you loose and you’re a wild-ass whore.”
“Wash,” Charlotte. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t talk that trash.”
“Her momma tosses her out and I open my gosh-dang home,” Wash said. “But I ain’t giving no shelter if she’s gonna whore it out. You know how embarrassing that is? You don’t think people gonna be talking about it?”
“Like when you got busted for running drugs?”
“Shit,” Wash said, shaking his head. He turned away from staring at her and concentrated on the television. The couple had dressed up like they were in
Dirty
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