“You are a nice young man,” Laverna reassured him. “You are the only male in this town who I approve of. As you probably know, my daughter picks inappropriate men. She makes dumb choices.”
“No,” said Jake. “That’s the old Rachel.” He accentuated this by pointing a french fry. “I’ll tell you something. Rachel is one of the smartest women I’ve ever met. You’re lucky. It was an awful day when I finally realized my mother was not intelligent. My mom might be a nurse, but she’s an idiot.”
“No comment,” said Laverna. She wanted to ruffle his hair, or touch the back of his neck. She shook off her motherly instincts, resumed her usual laser focus. “I need some help with something.”
“Okay,” said Jake.
“It’s about the Fourth of July parade,” she continued. “I want to win the float competition this year.”
“You’ve never had a float,” said Jake. “The Flood Girls usually ride in the back of Red Mabel’s truck and throw candy at people.”
“Exactly,” said Laverna. “Not this year. I want a float, a real float. Like the firemen and the Shriners and the pep club and the rotary club.”
“And the John Birch Society,” added Jake. “Even though they are a bunch of white supremacists,” said Jake. “They shouldn’t be allowed to decorate anything.”
“Correct,” said Laverna. “I want to win. And only you can help.”
He considered her carefully. “You’re right. I’ve just been counting down the days until I’m old enough to decorate a prom.”
“Well?”
“I’ll make you a deal,” said Jake. “I will create a float for the Flood Girls, but you have to do me a favor.”
Laverna shuddered. “Fine,” she said.
“Black Mabel takes care of your daughter,” he said.
“If that’s what you want to call it,” said Laverna. “I believe the authorities would call it drug dealing.”
Jake ignored this. “Now I want you to take care of Black Mabel.”
“Is she in the clink again?”
“No,” said Jake. “I want you to pay to have her teeth fixed.”
“Jesus,” said Laverna.
“Anonymously,” he said. “I know how much you like to take credit for things.”
“Fine,” said Laverna. “I’m not a complete glory hound, you know. I’m leaving the float completely up to you. It’s your baby, and I want nothing to do with it. Except to win, of course.”
“Why are you picking me? I mean, really?”
“You’ve had a rough couple of months,” said Laverna. “You deserve a little glory of your own.”
“Is this a secret?”
“Just the Flood Girls know,” said Laverna. “And Bucky. Don’t tell anybody else. I want this to be a shocker.”
“You came to the right kid,” said Jake. “I promise it will be unlike anything this town has ever seen.”
* * *
In Sullivan, Laverna discovered that Rachel had also made the trip with a surprise guest: Bucky. Laverna promptly gave him an assignment, to protect Jake in the bleachers. Laverna warned him about pickpockets, made sure he had brought his knife.
As her team warmed up, Laverna watched the ladies from Sullivan’s Best Western. As if the serial killer wasn’t enough, Sullivan also had uniforms. The women wore actual polo shirts, provided by the hotel. Laverna was suspicious of the shortstop and rover, as they were Mexicans. Laverna assumed they were illegal immigrant housekeepers, smuggled across the border to play softball.
The white women on the team were heavy drinkers. Laverna usually made sure her own girls waited until the second inning to crack a beer, but the ladies of Sullivan always showed up half-lit, and traditionally fell apart by the bottom of the fourth inning.
It was easy for Ginger to strike out the drunkest ladies—they were either seeing double, or kept one eye shut to maintain perspective.
In the middle of the fourth inning, Rachel caught her first ball. Laverna was amazed, and watched as Rachel stood still and the ball fell right into her glove.
Of course, she forgot that she was supposed to do something next, so she stood there, surprised like everybody else, as one of the Mexicans tagged up and continued her run from second to third. Laverna felt a scream rise in her throat, an invective aimed at her daughter, but swallowed it. Thankfully, Red Mabel’s heart had not softened. Or her voice.
“Throw that fucker!” Red Mabel was ready at third, and Rachel, snapping out of her reverie, launched it in her general direction. It wasn’t anywhere near third base, but the Mexican runner stopped, probably because Red Mabel looked like a female chupacabra.
The Flood Girls won, fourteen to six.
* * *
She dropped Jake at home, and found Jim Number Three sitting on her front porch. It was the longest day of the year, and still light out. Laverna swore when she saw the roses.
“No,” she said, and slammed the car door.
He stood, left the roses behind. He offered up a bulging envelope, a better gift.