What I should have done was double fisted them, or even quadruple fisted them, because no matter what, the Townsends were not normal people.
Alas, I had only ordered one.
Maybe that was actually a good thing, though? Especially with what happened once we had finished eating.I’d noticed something the night that I went to Madix’s house, and over lunch it became even more obvious. With how uncomfortable he seemed to be when he’d mentioned lunch with the Townsends and his general unease toward them, I would have expected him to be like an outsider when they got together. Nothing could be further from the truth though. He totally fit in with the family, who had blatantly claimed him as one of their own. I watched their interactions throughout the meal and was left wondering if he wasn’t aware of it, or if he just hadn’t accepted it? Then again, I was awkward and wary around people I didn’t know well, and they were acting the same way toward me. In my case though, I was willing to work past my issues and enjoy being part of them.
“So, do you wanna go to the ranch with us to visit our cousins?” Levi asked Madix, proving my point, as he was working his way through his fifth taco.
Five freaking tacos! The ones served here were huge and stuffed full of meat, salad, cheese and the best refried beans and salsa I’d ever tasted. I’d struggled to finish two though and was now battling my self-control as I looked at the last one staring up at me from my plate.
Maybe if I took it home with me I could eat it tonight? Or have it as an afternoon snack? Or I could stop breathing and then there would be a space in my abdomen for it right now?
I was distracted from my taco contemplation and consumption theory by the voice of a woman I detested hugely. Mrs. Crane, the oldest, most over opinionated, bigoted harpy in the history of life. And I say life meaning from the first amoeba to ever exist on Earth.
“I can’t believe that you would sully this place with your filth,” she sneered at the table.
Sully? Who the hell used sully nowadays? An old, bitchy, bigoted harpy is who.
“Well, Mrs. Crane. Good afternoon to you too,” Jer responded, leaning back in his chair with a grin on his face, rubbing his stomach.
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed, her bent finger that looked like a knobbly tree branch pointing at him. “You should all stay on that land of yours, Townsend. Keep the rest of us clear of your dirty ways.”
“Our dirty ways?” Erica, Jer’s wife, replied in a tone that would caution a normal person to shut up and get gone. Not Mrs. Crane though. Oh no, that old bitch could survive a tornado – and she had! Even the damn twister hadn’t wanted her and had spat her out.
“Homos,” she spat out. “Fa…” she started to say a truly awful word for a gay person, when she had the good sense to pause.
This was most likely because all at once, all of the occupants of the table sat up, and an eery tension filled the space. This old bitch just got worse.
“We don’t use that word,” Jer shrugged, trying to play it off like he wasn’t pissed. The clenched fist on his thigh said otherwise. “It’s insulting.”
“They’re insulting,” she sniffed, looking around the room and nodding as if everyone else was in agreement with her.
Chancing a quick look around, it appeared she was on her own on this one because every single patron of the restaurant was looking at her in disgust.
“Oh, and look, the town’s whore and lesbian’s offspring is sullying the place as well. We don’t cater to your kind here either,” she informed me, glaring like I was a piece of dog shit on the ground.
Normally, I would have shrunk down, doing my best to hide from what was being said. Yes, I was ashamed, damn ashamed of what my mother had done. Not because she was a lesbian, but because of how she’d treated her family. How she’d acted toward her daughter. The fact it had been a religious man’s wife for Christ’s sake… shit – sorry, Christ.
Would he hold it against me even more for using his name in vain in my head? I wasn’t religious, but I really didn’t need the universe gunning for me more than it already was.
Regardless of whether or not I’d just encouraged the higher ups to mess with me even more, I would not bend to the bitter, twistedness of Mrs. Crane. Not today, Satan!
Jesus Christ, Dahlia. Satan now too? Have you no control over your stupidity? And you just said the Lord’s name in vain again.
Madix’s hand grabbing mine and holding it firmly gave me more courage as I just stared at the old hag like she was an insignificant bug. I wanted to jump over the table and smack her head on a taco – what a waste – but I wasn’t going to give her the ammunition against me. Instead, I was just going to look at her like she wasn’t getting to me like the rest of the table were doing.