W Is for Wasted

and thick, layered so it hugged her head. Her bangs were cut straight across and fell below her brows, like a knit hat pulled low against the cold. Despite having three kids, she showed no signs of childbearing. She was small and slender and would probably always carry herself like a sixth-grade girl, shoulders slightly rounded, jeans hanging on her hips. Ballet-style flats, no socks. I turned to her and extended my hand. “Kinsey. You’re Ellen?”
    I got the limp hand. I saw her mouth move, but her smile was distracted and she wouldn’t meet my eyes. At first I thought she was pissed off, but I realized she was so shy she could barely raise her voice. Hank headed for the bar to buy drinks while she sat down and fussed with her purse, arranging the long straps over the top chair rail. It must have felt odd not to have to worry about bottles, diapers, and baby wipes, not to mention plastic baggies filled with crackers.
    Hank appeared moments later with a beer for himself and a margarita for her. Ten minutes went by, during which we were engaged in idle chat. Anna and Ellen went off to the ladies’ room, leaving me alone with Hank. He was pleasant, though he didn’t volunteer anything, perhaps at a loss about where to begin. All he knew about me was I’d snatched five hundred thousand dollars out of the family coffers. Given that I interview people for a living, I was happy to break the ice. “What sort of work do you do?”
    “Electrician. My dad owns the company. I have a brother works for him, too.”
    “Nice,” I said, picturing a tool belt and a voltage meter. “How’d you and Ellen meet?”
    “She was waiting tables at Wool Growers. Have you been there?”
    “I’ve been in town one day so I haven’t seen much.”
    “It’s a Basque restaurant on Nineteenth. You ought to try it if you have a chance. Food’s good and there’s lots of it. After my mom died, we’d go in for dinner couple of nights a week, my dad and brother and me.”
    “Ellen waited tables? She seems too shy for a job like that.”
    “She did fine. Around strangers she gets all tongue-tied and weird. She’ll loosen up in a bit. Took me a while to get to know her myself. We dated two years and been married six.”
    “Anna mentioned she lives with you.”
    “Yes, ma’am. I actually met Anna first. She used to do my mom’s nails when she worked at the other salon. Before Nails Ahoy!”
    “How long has she been staying with you?”
    “She said it would be three weeks, but it’s been like a year and a half.”
    “That’s a bit of an imposition, isn’t it?”
    “Some. House is small. She’s quiet. I’ll say that for her. Stays up late and sleeps late, so we have to keep the kids out from underfoot. She’s supposed to help out with room and board, but that didn’t last long. She paid maybe two months. Since then she hasn’t given us a cent. She buys too many clothes to pitch in, I guess.”
    “Well, that’s too bad.”
    He shrugged. “I let Ellen handle it. She asks about the money and Anna’s all like, ‘Sure, no problem.’ By the time the subject comes up again, another month’s gone by.”
    “Why don’t you kick her out?”
    “Not my place. Ellen knows she should ask her to leave, but she can’t bring herself to do it. She says Anna’s family, which I can understand, but still and all.”
    “Do the three of them get along? Ethan and his sisters?”
    He shrugged. “As long as Ellen does what they want. They yap about how she’s always her dad’s favorite and poor them. It’s bull, but they’ve said it so often she believes it herself. She’s afraid to stand up to them because she doesn’t want anybody mad at her. I believe one reason her dad took her out of the will along with the other two is he knew if he left her anything, Ethan and Anna would talk her into giving it to them.”
    “Makes me happy I’m an only child.”
    “Too bad she’s not.”
    The waitress appeared with a small tray, on which she’d placed two shot glasses of tequila and another margarita that she set in front of Ellen’s empty chair. When Anna and Ellen returned from the ladies’ room, I watched Ellen toss back the first shot without blinking an eye. She sat down, picked up her margarita, and took two swallows of the icy lime slush before she set it down again. I kept an eye on her. Tequila can make a mean drunk. I’ve seen grown men break chairs and punch through walls. I didn’t think she’d turn combative, but