Page 28 of We All Live Here
“You can’t stay with Jane?”
“Her partner doesn’t like me.”
“Surprise,” says the voice from the kitchen.
“And you have no other friends?”
“I’d rather be with family.”
“Oh, now they’re family,” comes the voice.
“Will you knock it off, Bill?” says Gene. “This is between me and my daughter.”
“You relinquished the right to call her your daughter years ago.”
“Well, you sure as hell don’t have the right.”
Lila hears footsteps. Bill appears in the kitchen doorway, a tea-towel over his shoulder. “You have no right to ask anything of Lila, no right at all.”
“Hey, fella, butt out. If my daughter wants to give me a bed for the night that’s no damn business of yours. You’re only squatting here yourself, as far as I can see.”
“Squatting here? I’ve been part of this family for thirty-five years. Certainly three times the amount you ever were.”
“You know nothing about me!” Gene is jabbing Bill in the chest now, with a long, thick finger. Bill, shocked, takes a step backward.
“Oh, I know plenty about you!” Bill whips the tea-towel from his shoulder and flicks it hard at Gene. It connects with his chin with an audible snapping sound. Gene’s mouth drops open and his hand goes to his face. In the kitchen Truant, clearly sensing some kind of conflict, zips through to the hall and sets up a furious barking, nipping at the men’s heels.
“Did you just whip me in the mouth, fella? Oh, man. I’m gonna whup your stiff old ass.”
The two old men are pushing at each other now, Bill flailing the tea-towel at Gene’s face, as Lila tries to grab the dog to stop it biting someone.
“Whup my ass? You’re too drunk to stand up for more than fifteen minutes at a time.”
“Oh, now you’re going to get it!”
Their fists are up, their bodies shifting from side to side. Lila, her head buzzing, throws herself between them and pushes them apart. “Will you two get a grip?” she yells. “For goodness’ sake.”
“He started it!”
Lila blocks an admittedly feeble punch from Gene, who bobs andweaves on the other side of her, like a boxer on the deck of a swaying boat.
“Yes, and as with the last thirty-five years, I’ll be the one finishing it.”
“Bill!” Lila shoves him backward.
“Mum!”
There is a brief silence. And then a voice says, “Mum?”
Violet is standing in the doorway to the living room, her face uncharacteristically uncertain. Lila gives them a final shove apart, glares at them, as if to ensure that they know she means business, then stoops, pulling Violet toward her, pasting a broad smile onto her face. Violet’s gaze flickers from one man to the other.
“It’s okay, lovey. They’re just play-fighting.”
Violet’s voice is tremulous: “They don’t look like they’re play-fighting.”
The silence lasts just a fraction longer than is useful.
Then Gene switches on his smile. “Sure we are, sweetheart! Me and Bill go back a long way, don’t we, Bill? Always joking.”
