Free A Trashy Affair by Lynn Shurr Page B

before I had to sell the place.”
    “Merlin wanted the house. He said he was saving his flight and dangerous duty pay to buy it from you.” Jane craned her neck to see if Miss Olive’s grandson returned with the tickets. Not yet. She had a good view of the Fast ’N Fun now that the bushes were trimmed, more’s the pity.
    “Best he start over where there ain’t so many sad memories: his grandpa wasting of cancer, his little sister catching a baby just like her mother before her, having to sell off the pasture and woodlot to a developer, then the cane fields to pay the doctor bills, Doyle going into the army. Not a damned thing Merlin could do about any of it, but he took each blow hard. He thinks he ruined his mother’s life, should have stayed in college and made big money to pay our bills, and been here to prevent Brittney from going with that guy and Doyle from enlisting.”
    Jane watched Merlin emerge from the convenience store trailing several streamers of scratch-off tickets. “He’s coming, Miss Olive.”
    “Only have one more thing to say. I like you, Jane, but don’t you hurt my grandson. It’s bad enough he bought a townhouse from that snake oil salesman, Bernard Freeman, and sits over there brooding day after day.” Miss Olive pursed her lips as if she wanted to spit right on porch, but she held back. “My Merlin smiles when he talks about you. I haven’t seen that smile in too, too long, so you be careful of him, you hear?”
    “I’ll try.”
    With that ground-eating stride and a fearless tendency to jaywalk in the Sunday traffic, Merlin joined them in no time at all. “I got twenty for Granny and ten each for me and you.”
    He broke blocks of tickets off the streamers, shuffled them like a blackjack dealer, and gave each a pile. Olive took three pennies from her change purse and handed them out. They scratched away in earnest until their knees and the porch floor glittered with silver flakes like an unexpected snow. One after another, Miss Olive threw the losing tickets to the ground until she finally came up with a two-dollar winner and then a ten. Merlin won nothing, but Jane revealed a doubler that earned her twenty. She handed her ticket to Olive Tauzin.
    “Here, you bet I didn’t know something, and you were right. I don’t know nearly as much as I should.”
    “Yeah, you can be a showoff smarty pants sometimes,” Merlin remarked, that grin straining to break out. “But you should never bet with Granny. She may seem delicate as a china teacup, but this woman is the steel spine of our family.”
    “I believe that. It’s been interesting getting to know her.”
    “Everyone says so. She’s surprising. You ready to go, Granny?”
    “ Mais, yeah, as soon as you drive me over to the store to collect my winnings. Thirty-two dollars. I think you bring the Tauzin family luck, Jane. But I need to be back at the Villa quick, quick for afternoon bingo. We’ll talk again, cher heart.”
    With Jane moving ahead carrying the walker, Merlin transported his grandmother down the porch steps and set her between the handles. Olive batted him away when he tried to help her balance and offered to bring the truck onto the lawn to make it easier for her.
    “Put ruts in this pretty yard? Mais , no. Go say goodbye to Jane and put some sugar in it. You got merde mouth since you come home from the army.”
    Unlike Merlin, Jane did not suppress her glee. “ Merde mouth, quite the phrase. I love it!”
    “Well, it’s a shitty world most of the time. I work this week so I won’t be around.”
    “On Thanksgiving Day, too?”
    “Someone has to be on duty in case of emergencies. Lots of the guys have families. I don’t. Mostly, we sit around the hangar, play cards, and eat pizza. Usually, the boss lets us off early as long as we wear our beepers.”
    “People eat pizza on Thanksgiving?”
    “Only the lonely.”
    “Won’t your mother be making a dinner for you?”
    He shook his head. “She and