Free Pipeline by Brenda Adcock

bitter.
    Chapter
Eleven
    I
COULD'VE SLEPT in Wednesday morning, but I'd been restless since returning to
the ranch. The sun was just beginning to break through the treeline in front of
the house when I carried a cup of coffee out on to the front porch and settled
into my father's favorite wooden rocker. Except for the chatter of a few birds
and the repetitive squeaking of the rocker on the wooden porch, everything was
peaceful.
    The
quiet of the morning was broken by the roaring sound of a car engine, and I
squinted down the road leading to the house. A cloud of brown dust was
billowing up from the unpaved road, and I knew Lena was on her way. I like
being left alone but never got the hang of housekeeping. I hired Lena Rubio to
come out once a week to dust, wash, and do other little household jobs.
Wednesday was Lena's day in the country.
    She
was a no-nonsense woman of forty although she looked older. I hadn't asked many
questions about her past and wasn't interested in credentials when I met her at
a local bar. Best guess was that once upon a time she had been a real
heartbreaker. Now she was usually a little overmade and hadn't missed many
meals over the years. She always had an off-color joke to tell, smoked like a
chimney, cussed like a sailor, and threw back drinks with the best of them. I'd
met some rough-around-the-edges women in my life, and Lena ranked at least in
my top ten most memorable women. But she had a heart of gold and was a sucker
for anyone's sob story after a few beers.
    Her
old car slid to a stop near the porch, sending a cloud of dust toward me. I
leaned against a porch post to wait as she hauled herself from the vehicle and
had to smile when I saw her. Her black hair was piled haphazardly on top of her
head with several strands falling down onto her face and neck. She reached into
her car and pulled out a large fabric bag and slung it over her shoulder before
slamming the car door shut.
    "Rough
night?" I asked as she trudged toward the front steps.
    "Fuck
you, Jo," she said as she continued up the steps and past me into the
house.
    From
her response I knew immediately that she had overslept and hadn't had her
coffee yet. I caught the front screen before it slammed shut and followed her
into the kitchen. She threw her bag onto the kitchen table and grabbed a coffee
cup from the cabinet next to the sink. When she turned around, I was already
there with the pot of hot, black heart-starter. She shoved the cup toward me, and
I poured. Carrying the cup to the table and sipping noisily as she sat, she
stopped long enough to dig through the bag, finally fishing out a pack of
generic cigarettes and a scratched-up Zippo lighter. She took a long drag on
the cigarette as she snapped the lighter closed with a metallic click.
    "God,
I hate mornings," she said through exhaled smoke.
    "Then
come later. I don't give a shit when you get here," I said.
    "Too
damn hot later." She smiled at me, showing teeth that would have made an
orthodontist drool. "Maybe I just move in here with you, sugar," she
continued, squinting as smoke slowly rose over her face. "Then Lena won't
have to worry about gettin' too hot...'cept maybe at night."
    "Afraid
I couldn't handle that one, Lena."
    "You
skinny women all alike." She laughed loudly. "Shit, I squash you like
a bug in bed."
    "But
if you're any good, it'd be worth dying for, right?"
    "Don't
you worry youself 'bout that. Lena good enough. What you got today? Same as
usual."
    "Yeah,
I haven't been back long enough to make much of a mess."
    "It
ain't like you use all the rooms or nothin'. Three, four at the most." She
leaned toward me. "I tell you the truth, Jo. I a'most feel guilty 'bout
takin' you money."
    "I
don't feel guilty about giving it to you, so what's the difference?"
    "You
know, some of the nosies in town are thinkin' you and me got somethin' goin'
out here."
    "Really?"
I chuckled, remembering Cate's questions about Lena.
    "You
bet you ass. 'Fore long everbody gonna believe