A neon OPEN sign flashed up ahead, indicating a 24/7 liquor store was back in business after the storm. The windows were mostly boarded up, and sandbags lined the front, but otherwise, it was business as usual.
Businesses that were so resilient that they could get back up on their feet as though nothing had happened always impressed me.
At that moment, I was also very tempted to support the local store by buying and drinking a fifth of rum, but I thought better of it; perhaps some gum would be good.
“She doesn’t prefer Cameron,” Butch said reassuringly. “Or at least, she didn’t until the toilet comment.” He shook his head, almost certainly marveling at the mess I’d gotten myself into.
Butch waited on the sidewalk while I went in and bought gum at the liquor store. While I waited in line behind the customers, I mulled over what Butch had said.
Could it be true? I loved my mom more than anyone else in the world, but was it possible I was scared of her? I’d faced down bulldog lawyers and seedy landlords alike in my job, so it hardly seemed logical that a diminutive middle-aged woman frightened me, but then the lawyers didn’t have the power of holding passive-aggressive guilt trips over me.
I thought back to what my mom had said.
Muriel preferred Cameron. She always had, and I’d been a third-wheel this whole time. I’d wanted to argue with her, but I’d have had to admit there was something going on between the three of us. So I’d simply walked away. But if we did end up in a real relationship, I’d have no choice but to tell her; if I didn’t, the grapevine would.
Shit, Bruce was right.
“Dr. Phil, eat your heart out,” I said as I rejoined Butch in the street, and we started our trek back to the hospital. “I think you’ve got a point about my mom.”
“I don’t blame you, you know. Your mom is terrifying.”
My head swiveled to face him, my brain automatically going into defense mode at the mention of my mom, and Butch put his hands up innocently. “I like her, don’t get me wrong. But she’s always been fiercely protective of you, with emphasis on the fierce.”
“Muriel’s fierce too,” I said dreamily. “And fiery. I love that about her.”
“Well, one word of advice; don’t tell any woman she reminds you of your mother. She won’t like it. And, frankly, it’s a bit weird.”
“I’ll be lucky to even get a chance to speak to Muriel again. But if there’s even a glimmer of hope, I won’t blow it a second time. I gotta put an end to the mama’s boy thing anyway. Doesn’t really go with the whole hardboiled investigator vibe I’m going for.”
Butch laughed. “Yeah, that’s a weird combination for sure. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be fine. When you do make up with Muriel, be sure to drop in on Cameron again; it sounds like he’s got an idea or two up his sleeve.”
“Hasn’t he always?” I replied.
Butch tapped his nose conspiratorially, refusing to say anything more.
We said our goodbyes, and I called a cab home, with a tiny ray of hope that I might sort things out with Muriel before she left for good.
Chapter Sixteen
Muriel Tennyson
I stepped out of the hospital into the cool night air and took a deep breath. Breathe in for four, hold for four. Breathe out for four, hold for four. That was what my yoga teacher had taught us as a foolproof method of relaxing. Well, bullshit, I'd tell her if I ever saw her again. I needed more than mere oxygen to calm my nerves. I needed a punching bag, or a stiff drink, or a... a good fuck.
Geez Louise, Muriel, I thought as I made my way back to the car. Even now, after everything that’s happened, you still want those men as much as ever?
I used to be that girl who would fake orgasms so she could go to sleep quicker, and now my body craved sex from the very man who had me shaking with rage in the middle of the night?
Madness.
I unlocked my car and got inside. Perhaps a drive would help clear my mind. I used my phone to set up a good playlist, full of cheesy hits and one-hit-wonders, partly to cheer me up but also because it would piss Hugh off. Petty, moi?
Having pulled out of the parking lot, I chose a journey that would take me down some long open roads. Mindless driving, that was what I needed.
For about thirty minutes, I just drove, singing at the top of my voice as Katy Perry, Taylor Swift, and Destiny’s Child did their best to make me feel better. I even attempted a rap when Nicki Minaj started playing, but I soon stopped when I realized it was possible to experience embarrassment even while alone in my car.