Spoonbenders

Oh God, he was in the room. The devil had never gotten into the house before. Of all his failings over the years, Teddy had never allowed that to happen.

Smalls and Graciella had gotten to their feet. Archibald was watching from beneath his big eyebrows. Barney was trying to count heads and count threats. Nick, though, was staring at Graciella.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Nick said. His voice was strangled by outrage. Teddy had never seen him this angry, this out of control.

“She is standing right here,” Graciella said.

“She’s my guest,” Teddy said. His mind raced. If Nick wasn’t here for his family, then he was after Teddy’s. “What do you want, Nick?”

“I’m here to return something,” Nick said. He nodded to Barney. The big bartender lifted his hand, and Teddy tensed. But it wasn’t a gun; it was a large yellow flashlight with a bee logo stamped on the side. Nick said, “This looks familiar, don’t it? A lot like the fucking bee on little Frankie’s fucking van.”

Teddy put a befuddled smile on his face. What had Frankie done? Did he go to the tavern and say something stupid? Threaten something stupid?

“Well, I thank you for bringing it by. I didn’t know he’d lost it, but I’m sure he appreciates—”

“You think I’m a fucking idiot?” Nick asked.

Destin Smalls stepped forward. He was the only one in the room bigger than Nick or Barney, and Teddy was happy to have him there. Barney and the agent locked eyes like two steam engines on the same track.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Teddy said. “Honestly.”

“You think you can fucking break into my bar and I won’t know it’s you? The fact that you sent your fuckup son doesn’t make a difference.”

“I didn’t send Frankie anywhere. Calm down, Nick, let’s discuss this like—”

“Fuck you, Teddy.”

“—gentlemen.” The only problem being that Nick was no gentleman, he was a sociopath. With a gun. His shirt covered the bulk of some kind of pistol tucked into his waistband.

“There are kids here,” Teddy said, lowering his voice. “Your grandsons among them.”

“Give ’em back!” Nick shouted. His eyes were jumping, and his hand had moved to rest on that lump under his shirt. What was he thinking, showing up here in broad daylight, ready to blow? He was losing it. Maybe it was the stress of waiting for the feds to knock at his door. The threat of his business—no, his entire way of life—vanishing with the bang of a gavel. “Right fucking now!”

“Give what back?” Teddy asked. “I’m being honest, here. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The fucking teeth.”

“Teeth?” Archibald said.

“It’s a long story,” Graciella said. She walked up to Nick, and Teddy was proud of how calm she looked. She was terrified of the old man—she’d told him so—but you couldn’t tell.

She opened her purse, and took out a plastic bag. “Here. The other half. Now you have them all—all the evidence. I just wanted my sons to be kept clear.”

“Now the rest of them! Bring me my lunch box!”

Teddy said, “That’s all of them. The ones we brought you, and those. That’s it.”

“Frankie,” Nick said. “Bring his ass in here, now.”

“I’m not going to do that,” Teddy said.

Destin Smalls had moved around the edge of the coffee table. “It’s time for you to leave,” he said. “Now.”

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Nick said.

“Destin Smalls, federal agent,” Smalls said. “I repeat, it’s time—”

“Shut up,” Nick said. He raised his arm, and the bang shook the walls. Smalls fell back onto the coffee table with a crash. Cliff shouted and Graciella screamed, though Teddy could hardly hear them over the ringing in his ears.

“Fuck this,” Nick said. He did not put the pistol away. “I’ll get him myself.”

IRENE

“What the hell?” Irene said. Teddy’s yell had carried into the garage, followed by a loud pop. Now there were more angry shouts—from men whose voices she didn’t recognize.

“And everything had been going so well,” Joshua said.

It had been going well—very well—at least until Frankie and Loretta had interrupted them. Then suddenly it was the night back in high school, in the backseat of the Green Machine with Lev Petrovski, when the patrolman tapped on the window. Joshua, however, was magnitudes better at making love than Lev had ever been. After the interruption, they picked up where they’d left off—no sense stopping the race when they were that close to the finish line—but now this. It sounded like a fight had broken out.

Of course there could be no such thing as a normal picnic with her family. Why expect sane behavior on the one day her boyfriend came to visit? Joshua would never want to get tangled up in this nonsense. He’d never want to expose Jun to these people. He’d leave Irene, no matter how good the car sex.

“This changes nothing,” Irene said. She tugged on her shorts. Outside, Loretta screamed.

“Of course not,” Joshua said. He managed to pull up his pants before she opened the garage side door.