Page 62 of Mourner for Hire
That is not at all how I think this town sees me. Fuck up? Tortured? Angry? All of the above. But golden boy?
Yeah, this lady doesn’t know me at all.
As if reading my thoughts, she says, “You build birdhouses,Dominic. You volunteer with the animal shelter. I’m willing to bet your friend is going to waltz through that metal door with a first aid kit, and you are going to watch him bandage me up and feed me Tylenol and butterscotch candies.”
This makes a small breath of a laugh escape my nose.
“And I’ve had at least ten people tell me what a sweet boy you are and only one of those people was your mother.”
At the mention—and reminder—of my mother, my jaw tightens. I open my mouth to say something angry and unforgiving, but the door to the women’s bathroom swings open with a loud creak, and Eli comes in.
“How’s she looking, doc?” he teases.
“Unfortunately, she’ll live,” I answer, and Vada says, “Hey!”
Eli ignores me. “What happened?”
“There’s this scary, tatted bartender that hates me. He scared me when I was looking at birdhouses, and I hit my head on one,” she answers.
“Ouch,” Eli says, crouching next to her.
I pull my hand away as he goes in to examine the wound. I don’t know if I’m relieved or frustrated to no longer be touching her. I stand and take two steps back while my brain reconciles this visceral reaction my body is having to protect her… from a scratch.
“Are you a doctor?” she asks, looking up at Eli while he cleans the wound.
“Paramedic. I’m definitely not the doctor.” He glances at me, and I shoot him a glare.
She misses the interaction. “Do you think I need stitches?”
Eli thinks a moment. “No, but maybe superglue. Head gashes just bleed like it’s shark week.”
She tilts her head back, and a real laugh tumbles out of her.
A strike of affection warms inside me and it pisses me off.
“See, Dominic? All your dramatics for nothing,” she says as Eli continues to clean the wound.
“I wasn’t being dramatic. You were bleeding after hitting your head at my booth.” I cross my arms and tip back on my heels.
“Ah, yes.Yourbooth. I should probably sue.”
“That sounds like something an embezzler like yourself would do,” I counter.
“Financial exploiter. Please, Dominic. If you’re going to accuse me of something, at least let it be close to the definition.”
Eli’s mouth twitches like he’s about to smile. He clears his throat. “What do you think, Dunner? Superglue?”
I don’t even have to look at it. I know it needs glue. I step forward anyway and pretend to examine it and turn to Eli. “That’ll work.”
Eli applies more pressure to the wound so it stops bleeding enough to apply the glue. He nods at his first aid kit. “There’s some glue in there.”
“Glue?!” Vada shrieks, grabbing onto Eli’s wrist.
“Relax. It’s medical grade.” I crouch down and show her the tube.
“You do the honors?” Eli suggests.
I nod, washing my hands and putting on gloves.
