Scrap just grunted as he picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. He scrolled through several channels in rapid succession, pausing to view one for a few seconds before moving on to the next. The effect was dizzying. He finally landed ona network that broadcast old game show reruns. Long-dead people competed for prizes already used, broken, and consigned to landfills.
She figured he was trying to intimidate her or annoy her so much that she left. Too bad for him, she had the day off. She crossed her arms and settled herself in for the long haul. “You got any coffee?”
Scrap grunted again.
Sabrina got off the sofa and wandered into the kitchen area. Avocado-green appliances sat next to gold-flake Formica counters, and a chrome-legged kitchen table with the most uncomfortable-looking chairs ever made stood on the opposite side. “Seriously, have you ever thought about joining the twenty-first century and modernizing?”
He jabbed a finger at the entrance. “You don’t like my house? There’s the fucking door!”
She made her own grunting sound and started rummaging through the cabinets. A cheap four-cup coffee maker sat back against the tiled backsplash. She pulled it forward and dumped the old grounds into a plastic-lined trash can.
“Don’t get shit all over my counters!”
The yell almost made her smile.
She found the coffee and the filters in a cabinet, along with several mugs. “You want me to go? There’s one guaranteed way.”
“I’m not taking a gawddamn test!”
That roar definitely had the corners of her mouth turning up.
“Suit yourself. I kinda like it here in Pittsburgh. I think I’ll stick around for a while.”
She didn’t hear his grumbling reply, but amusement still danced through her head. The new battle plan she’d come up with included letting the man fuss and bluster while she hung around and did the passive-aggressive thing. Whenever she went toe-to-toe with him, he locked down tight. So far, whenshe didn’t pay attention to him, his blowups petered out pretty quickly. This way, she could wear him down until he gave up and gave in.
The coffee maker spit out its goodness, and she sniffed the aroma. Whatever faults Scrap had, bad coffee wasn’t one of them.
“Pour me a cup of that.”
Sabrina smiled at the gruff demand. She pulled two mugs down from the cabinet and checked them for dust. This machine didn’t have an automatic stop, so she deftly transferred one mug under the streaming liquid while filling the other from the pot, then switched them.
“Cream and sugar?”
“Do I look like a cream and sugar kind of man?”
She handed him a full mug. He grunted his thanks while Bob Barker wowed his audience with a new car. The coffee finished bubbling, and she filled her own mug. “I prefer cream and sugar, but I like it black too.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“Ernie drank his coffee black.”
“I don’t give a shit about that either.”
“Fine. I’m still not leaving.”
Scrap opened his mouth to yell at her, but three sharp raps on the front door stopped him.
“Yoo-hoo! Walter, are you decent?” A short, rotund woman somewhere in her seventies bustled in with several brown-paper bags of groceries and a ginormous purse on her arm. When she spotted Sabrina, she stopped and her mouth formed a perfect O.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, I bet you’re Raquel’s daughter. The one Titus keeps telling me about.”
Sabrina smiled as Scrap cursed under his breath. “Yes, I am.”
The woman grinned broadly. “So good to finally meet you. I heard you’ve made quite the splash. I’m Mary, Titus’s wife.You’ll know him as Baghouse in their little club.” She started putting away the groceries while keeping up a steady stream of conversation. “You look so much like your mother, but I can see Walter there too. You have his eyes and his build. Your mother wasn’t curvy at all. No breasts until Walter got her the boob job she wanted. Land sakes, that was a time. Walter took care of her every day until she healed.”
“I never knew she had that done.”
Mary took out a carton of eggs and put them in the fridge. “It was a long time ago, before you were born. How’s your mother doing these days?”
