Willow Smoke (8 page)

Daisy
scowled.
Why
couldn’t
Maxine
get
her
life
together?
Why
couldn’t
she
dump
Reggie
and
move
on?
She
was
hooked,
that
was
why.
On
booze,
on
drugs,
on Reggie
Lassiter.

“You’re
giving
me
that
condescending
look
again,”
Maxine
complained.
“Why
do
you
always
have
to
look
like
you
think
you’re
better
than
me?”

Daisy
blinked.
“I’m
sorry.
I
don’t
mean
to
do
that.
So
what
have
you
guys
been
up
to?”

“Hanging.”
Reggie
snickered.

“My
Reggie
lost
his
job
again.
Thought
maybe
you
could
help
us
out,”
Maxine
purred.
“Winchel’s
won’t
give
me
an
advance.
Said
I
already
owe
them.
Don’t
remember
getting
the
advance
before.
They
treat
their
waitresses
like
shit
anyway.
So
will
you
help?”

“How
much
do
you
need?”

“How
much
you
got?”
Reggie
ran
his
eyes
up
and
down
her
body
like
he
was
undressing
her.

Daisy
flinched.
She
was
sure
Reggie
ogled
her
to
make
Maxine
jealous.

“Not
enough,
I’m
sure.
I
can
loan
you
twenty-five
until
you
get
paid,”
Daisy
said
to
Maxine.

“That’s
chicken
shit,”
Reggie
growled,
lurching
to his feet. “Look at this place.
You
make
more
money
in
a
week
than
we
see
in
a
month.
Thought
you
took
family
responsibilities
seriously.
You’re
always
talking
about
family.
So
do
something
about it.”

Daisy
didn’t
stir.
“I’ve
got
twenty-five
dollars.
You’re welcome to borrow it or not.
Maxine,
will
that
help?”

“Yes
darling,
that
will
help
a
lot.
Reggie,”
she
said,
pulling
him
back
down
beside
her, “we’ve got
to be grateful that Daisy
wants
to
help
at
all.
Your
family
certainly
doesn’t.”

“What
family?”
He
spat
the
words
out.
“All
right,
it’s better than nothing, but not by
much.
How
about
some
tips?”
His
voice
turned
sugary.
“You’re
an
insider
now,
Daisy
Matthews.
You
gotta
see
some
hot
horses.”

Daisy
shook
her
head.
How
many
times
had
they
been
around
this
one?
She
knew
Reggie.
If
she
gave
him
betting
tips,
he’d
hold
her
responsible
for
how
the
horses
ran
and
expect
even
more.

Reggie
glared
at
Maxine
for
support.

“Daisy, he’s not asking
for money. Just for
some
help,
some
advice.
He
can
make
his
own
bets.
Can’t
you
honey?”
She
rested
her
head
on
Reggie’s
shoulder.

Daisy
tried
not
to
gag.

“I’ll
get
the
bets
down.
Just
tell
me
who
to
bet
on.”

“Like
I’ve
said
before,
horseracing
isn’t
that
predictable.”

“He
knows
that,”
Maxine
replied,
squeezing
Reggie’s
hand.
“My
man
knows
how
things
go
down.
Don’t
you
dear?”

“That I do.” He glared
at Daisy. “This
time
I expect
results, or someone may get
hurt.”

“Ouch,”
Maxine
yelped,
“don’t
squeeze
my
hand
that
hard.”

“Sorry,”
he
said,
looking
directly
at
Daisy.
“Sometimes a guy just doesn’t know his
own
strength.”

Daisy
closed
her
eyes.
The
man
didn’t
have
a
subtle
bone
in
his
body.
Either
give
Reggie
some
possible
winners,
or
her
sister
would
be
hurt.
Not
that
it
would
be
a
new
experience
for
Maxine.
Against
her better judgment, she caved in.

“Okay,
I’ll
give
you
three
to
five
runners
a
week
that
appear
ready
to
win.
You
know
that
doesn’t
mean
they’ll
win.”

Both
Reggie
and
Maxine
nodded.
“You
make
your
own
bets,
however
you
manage that, but not through me. I could
get in trouble with my boss for that. I
don’t
have
time
to
run
to
the
betting
windows
on
race
day.”

“No
problem.
I
can
handle
that.”
Reggie stood.
“I’ll
drop
by
and
get
the
picks
Wednesdays.”

“No!”
Daisy
jumped
to
her
feet,
towering
over
her
beefy
brother-in-law.
“I’ll
leave
messages
on
your
answering
machine.
My
work
is so erratic I’m never certain
when
I’ll
be
home.”

“That’ll
be
just
fine,
Daisy.”
Maxine
rose
and
hugged
Daisy
loosely.
She
stood
back
and
looked
up
at
Daisy.
“I
never
will
understand
how
you
got
so
tall
and
me
so short. Mama was
average height, but daddy was short.”

Daisy
snorted.
“At
least
you
know
who
your
daddy
was.”

“Yours
must
have
been
a
pro
basketball
player.”
Reggie
laughed. “I hear your mother was a professional,
too.”

“Reggie!”
Maxine pulled her husband toward the door. Daisy clenched her teeth and kept
her hands to herself.

“Don’t
mind him,” Maxine said. “Mama loved both of us. You know that. She did the best
she could.”

The
door shut quietly. Daisy laid her forehead against the door jamb and let out a
breath she hadn’t known she was holding. She
ran
her
fingers
through
her
hair
and
walked
back
into
the
living
room.
Giving
up
on
studying,
she
picked
up
the
trash,
turned
off
the
lights
and
headed
for
her
bedroom.
A
good
novel
might
help
remove the foul
taste her sister and
brother-in-law
so often left in her mouth.