W Is for Wasted

it.”
    “Don’t mind him. He’s a drama queen. How’d you find out where I worked?”
    “His landlord.”
    “Big Rat. High school, he was a class ahead of Ethan’s. I once dated the guy if you can believe that.”
    “Somehow I can’t picture it.”
    “That makes two of us. I was sixteen and thought he was a man about town.” She lapsed into silence, intent on her work.
    “I guess you know about your dad’s will,” I ventured.
    “We all know. Big powwow an hour ago. I thought the phone lines would catch fire.”
    “Does your mother know?”
    “She knows everything. Why do you ask?”
    “I was wondering how she felt about your father’s death.”
    “She said ‘Good riddance,’ if that’s a clue. Mamie’s the one you better watch. Even Mom has a hard time with her. Talk about butting heads. Those two go at it.” She took out a little pair of scissors and nipped at my cuticles, dead skin piling up in the tiny space between blades. “Mamie’s Ethan’s wife, in case you haven’t heard.”
    “I didn’t meet her, but I know her name. She was off at work.”
    “The woman’s a powerhouse.”
    “How so?”
    “She’s a code-enforcement officer for the city. Property maintenance, zoning violations, abandoned vehicles, you name it. File a complaint and she kicks ass until the problem goes away. Too bad she wasn’t around when Dad was doing his ‘thang.’ She’d have whipped him into shape.”
    “I take it your mother wasn’t good at that.”
    “Mamie’s the kind who gets up in your face. Mom wheedles and manipulates. She specializes in guilt trips.” She was silent for a moment and then looked up. It was the first time she met my eyes and I was startled at the bright blue of her gaze. “So now you’ve talked to Ethan, why come to me?”
    “I left the paperwork with him, but I couldn’t be sure he’d pass it along to you and Ellen. Look, I understand this is difficult . . .”
    “No, it’s not. You know how much Daddy cared? He drank himself to death. That’s what he thought about us. We were last in line. He put my mother through hell. Not that she doesn’t deserve half the blame.”
    She took a buffer from the drawer and began to shine my nails, intent on her task.
    “If you want a say in your father’s funeral arrangements, this is your chance. You have any requests?”
    Smiling slightly, she said, “Make sure he’s thoroughly dead before you bury him. We don’t want him coming back unannounced. As much as he drank, he probably pickled himself, which should save on embalming fees.”
    I was at a loss about where to take the conversation next, so I said nothing. I watched her work. The silence didn’t seem to bother her.
    Once she finished buffing, she opened a big jar of cream and rubbed a glob between her hands. She took my hand and began to massage my fingers and my palm, moving up my forearm. “Ethan says you never met Daddy. He says you never even laid eyes on him ’til he was dead.”
    “That’s true. I had no idea we were related.”
    “And you got all the money. Lucky you.”
    “I had no say in that.”
    “I’m sure not. My old man was a shit.”
    “He wasn’t all bad. His friends speak well of him. They were impressed with his smarts. Wasn’t he working on a degree in landscape design?”
    “Eons ago when we were little kids. He was good about taking us on hikes and teaching us nature stuff. That always frosted Mom’s ass.” She looked toward the salon door, checking the client who had just walked in. As though I’d pressed, she went on. “We worshiped the ground he walked on. She’s the family saint and didn’t like the competition.”
    “He put together a folio for each of you that he illustrated himself.”
    “Sorry to interrupt, but I got a client just came in and she doesn’t like to wait. She’s a regular and she tips well. Job you do, I bet you don’t have to worry about things like that.”
    “Am I supposed to pay here or at the desk?”
    “Pay her,” she said, glancing at the receptionist.
    Since she’d just mentioned a tip, I thought I’d better be generous. I took a ten out of my wallet and slipped it under the towel. That seemed to soften her attitude.
    “If you want, Ellen and I can meet you later for a drink,” she said as I got up.
    I made a face meant to convey regret. “I wish I could, but I’m due home and I’ve checked out of my motel.”
    “You can’t find another room?”
    “I could, but I have to get