Junkyard Dog(7)

“Andrew doesn’t want me to discipline them,” Honey says when her older two kids throw fries at each other. “He feels his way his better.”

“Marriage is a fascinating institution,” I say rather than what I’m really thinking.

I turn to her six-year-old daughter Allison. “Stop throwing the fries or I won’t let you go in the jungle gym.”

“No!” she yells at me.

“No what?” I ask.

“I’m gonna play.”

“Not if you don’t stop throwing the fries. I will hold you on my lap while everyone else plays. You can fight me, but I won’t let go. I’m very, very stubborn. You can scream and kick, but I won’t let you go. I will make you sit here and watch the others play. Aunt Candy doesn’t mess around. So are you going to stop throwing your fries?”

Allison looks at her mom for assistance, but Honey only stares at her food. Exhausted by her life, she wants someone to fix what she’s broken. I’d feel sorry for her if I wasn’t the middle child and forced to figure everything out in life myself.

“Well?” I ask again.

Allison doesn’t respond, but she eats her food without throwing them at Evan. Her brother sitting across the table gets the message too.

“Thanks,” Honey mumbles to me.

“No problem. I like bossing around small humans.”

Honey stares at me, and I realize how much she looks like our mom. “I’m tired all the time.”

Nodding, I say nothing. I’m not someone who offers advice. I don’t believe people really want anything besides sympathy when they ask for advice. I know I don’t.

“Before we move into a house, you should bring the kids to the hotel so they can swim,” I say instead of pretending to know how to fix her problems.

“That would be nice.”

Her lackluster response steals my interest in talking to her. I focus on Chipper nibbling at his chicken nuggets. I imitate him, and he laughs. He’s such a mellow kid. I feel lucky to have done the hard work with the kids when they were little. Now I have them pretty well trained.

Once all six kids finish eating, I give them permission to use the play area. I see Allison peeking back at me to see if I’m watching her. When she finds me eyeballing her hardcore, the kid stiffens. Yeah, Aunt Candy is a big old meanie.

“What’s it like working for the scariest man in town?” Honey asks as soon as we’re alone.

“A little boring. Hayes won’t let me do much. I figure he’s worried I’ll quit. Once I don’t, I hope he gives me more to do.”

“Is he horrible?”

“No. He yells a lot, but mostly at other people, so I don’t care.”

“I’ve heard a lot of things about him.”

“Like what?”

“That he kills people for pissing him off. That he owns half of the businesses in White Horse. That he will see a woman and order her to sleep with him. If she doesn’t, something bad happens to her family.”

I roll my eyes. “Who told you all that?”

“People talk.”

“People are morons,” I say, realizing I sound like Hayes. “I don’t doubt he breaks rules and laws and does what he wants, but he’s not a monster.”

“You should be careful.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Life is about taking chances and expecting most of them to end up in the dumper. I like my job, and I find Hayes interesting.”

“He is attractive. Rough, if you like that sort of thing.”

Something about her tone makes me curious. “Do you like rough?”

“I married Andrew.”

Arching my eyebrow, I say, “Yes, you did, but that’s not what I asked.”

Honey shrugs, but I know she’s thinking of someone in particular that ain’t Andrew.

“I admit I’m curious about Hayes,” I say, allowing her to weasel out of admitting who she likes. “By curious, I mean freakishly attracted to him. I want to keep my job, so I plan to behave. Not all risks are worth it.”

A few minutes pass while I watch the kids play and Honey stares at her uneaten fries.

“I’m not a bad mother,” Honey says, but her words sound like a question.

“No, you’re not.”

“It’s Andrew’s rules about disciplining them.”

“I understand.”

“But you don’t like him.”

“Have I ever pretended otherwise?”

Honey narrows her eyes. I catch a hint of her temper hiding beneath her broken-down-woman mojo. “No. You’d still be at the house if you could pretend.”

“I like the hotel better.”

“If you can see the good in Hayes then you should know Andrew’s not a monster either.”

Focusing on my sister, I stare into her eyes and again see our mother looking back at me.

“You want me to lie and say he’s a good husband and father. Not going to happen. I think he’s a thin-skinned wuss who takes his f*cking issues out on you. You know that’s what I think. So you either expect me to lie, or you're looking for a way out with him and think I’ll give it to you. Which is it?”

Honey’s been so beaten down these last years that she doesn’t even look hurt by my words. She only stares at me and considers what I said.