Page 15 of Property of Bull
“It’s no secret that the town’s betting on whether I’ll get married again,” he replies, suddenly looking a decade older. “But I really thought Ginny would be burying me. I can’t imagine going through this again.”
“I bet you’re thankful Margo could join you,” I comment, feeling the woman next to me tensing up.
“She’s my favorite grandchild, always has been,” he replies, smiling fondly in her direction. “And the timing couldn’t have been better for her.”
With his last sentence, Margo sucks in her breath and I wonder what I’m missing.
“Where are you from, Margo?” I ask, suddenly realizing how little I know about her. I remember hearing that her dad spent most of his life in Oklahoma, but that could mean anything from a good-sized city to a farm community.
“South.” She succinctly answers my question.
“Most of the country is south of here, any place more specific?”
My words are drowned out as the announcer comes on and kicks off the game. For the next couple of hours, Margo proves Clem right as far as being the ringer—with the exception of heavy metal, so I’m able to help out a bit.
“I’m impressed,” I tell her, nudging her with my elbow as I slide her my ten-dollar coupon for the grocery store. “I never would have won that round without you, fair is fair.”
“She’ll take it!” George laughs, having no shame in accepting it on her behalf even as she’s shaking her head, and I’m pleased he’s calmed down about my presence. Of course, he won the ‘grand’ prize for the evening, which seems to come with bragging rights around the hall.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask Margo, and I can see all the effort I spent disarming her going down the drain.
“It’s supposed to snow. I’ll be on call,” she informs me. I know damn well that’s bullshit and besides, I need an alibi and over the course of the evening I decided she’d be perfect for that.
“Tell me the truth,” I drawl back, leaning to whisper the next words into her ear. “You enjoy playing whack-a-mole with the mailboxes, don’t you?”
The snort she unwittingly lets out has me chuckling. And becoming more determined to spend time with her.
“I gotta get going. I’ll keep an eye on the forecast, Go-Go,” I tell her, brushing my lips against her cheek. “Town’s too small to avoid me for long.”
I work the room on the way out, stopping to tell the announcer reach out to me, sponsoring the occasional week of Bingo prizes can only work in my favor. My funeral home pays annual dues to the VFW, yet it’s to keep our name on literature and not becauseI ever had any interest in hanging out here. At least, not until now
Margo
Town’s too small to avoid me for long.Bull’s words have been echoing in my mind since he left, but looking at the number scrawled across my mirror has my heart racing for the second time in an hour.
This time in fear. It’s a solid minute before I can focus on the numbers long enough to realize that it’s a local area code. Once I do, I immediately dial the number.
“Good to know you’re home safe,” his voice comes across the line as a purr.
“You break into my house again and I’m calling the sheriff,” I growl back at him before hanging up.
He won’t hurt me. He won’t hurt me. He won’t hurt me. I chant over and over again, praying that my words are true as I scrub away his number. Picking up the lipstick, I consider tossing that out but this shit’s too expensive nowadays.
Crawling under the covers fully dressed, I squeeze my eyes shut, holding onto my childhood memory of him, barely into manhood and protecting me from the others.
He’s not like David.
I wake up a few hours later and reach for my phone again, a new habit of mine since taking over the snowplow job. Before I can get to the weather forecast, I notice a text message from the number I dialed earlier.
Fair enough. Just so you don’t shoot the delivery person, you should know I ordered some salve for your thighs, it’ll be there in the morning.
Shaking my head at his nonsense I try, repeatedly, to compose a witty text back to him. He must be awake because I nearly jump out of my skin when a new text comes through.
Still mad at me?
My jaw drops open as I lay there considering my answer.
Cat got your tongue?
