Rainy Tavern

“Where are we going?” asked Myrtle.

“We’re taking you to town to get you blotto,” answered Millie with a deep chuckle. Myrtle glanced at first one, then the other aunt. They were both smiling, so Myrtle thought they must be joking.

When they stopped at a seed and feed store, Myrtle thought maybe it was just a shopping excursion. But then Millie went in with a few flats of eggs and dropped them off. Then they all got back into the truck and drove a scant two blocks, parking in front of the Rainy Tavern. The two aunts just kept smiling as Millie parked the truck. They ushered Myrtle into the tap room and chose a booth.

Myrtle looked at her two aunts. “Is this where you two hang out?” she asked, a little doubtfully.

“Oh sure,” said Mabel. “We come here all the time.” She glanced at Millie, who motioned for service. An older fellow with a grey mustache, greased back hair and an ample belly sidled up to the booth and smiled, winking at Mabel.

Millie chuckled softly as Mabel gave her a warning look. Then Mabel looked up and said, “my turn to drive, so I’ll have bottled water on ice with a twist of lemon,” she said firmly. “My sister will have a shandy, and my niece will have.....” She looked at Myrtle expectantly.

“Oh, just a coke,” muttered Myrtle.

“So that’ll be a rum and Coke,” said Mabel firmly, nodding at the old gent. He smiled and turned toward the bar.

“Jim has been sweet on Mabel lo these last 15 years or so,” said Millie in sort of a stage whisper, still chuckling, distracting Myrtle from protesting the added rum to her Coke, as Mabel glared at Millie.

“I’ll go out with him when he crawls out from behind that bar and comes out to the farm to help with the chores,” said Mabel in mock annoyance.

“Won’t do him any good,” said Millie a little sternly. “No matter what work he did, the farm will go to Myrtle, not to some foolish old bartender.”

Myrtle was instantly taken aback. She hadn’t actually given any thought to what would become of the farm when her aunts could no longer keep it up, or, Heaven forbid, were gone. After she left home and moved to Upton, both her grandparents had passed, one after the other. She’d thought of the farm as her aunt’s home now. For the first time, she wondered how they were, really. “How are you two anyway?” she asked suddenly.

Mabel chuckled. “We’re fine Myrtle,” she said reassuringly. “We’re busier than ever, what with one thing and another, and we’re both in good health.”

Jim had come back and set the drinks down, then stood waiting. Mabel pulled a ten out of her purse and handed it to him. “Keep the change,” she said, a little sardonically. Jim only smiled and winked at her again, then made his way back to the bar, the tray under his arm. Millie chuckled again, as Mabel rolled her eyes.

“Anyway,” said Millie, we’re doing great. More to the point, Ms. Myrtle, how are things going with you?”

Well, Myrtle wasn’t even a little titillated yet by the rum in her Coke. She'd scarcely had a sip. But she knew when she was cornered, so she told all she was sure she hadn’t yet, and a few things she already had. She told them about how she and Fred met in a mud puddle. She told them about riding back and forth to work with him and getting to know him; about fixing up his new apartment and visiting him in the hospital.

“So then what’s the problem?” asked Mabel, gesturing for more drinks.

“Cynthia raped him,” said Myrtle, looking from one of her aunts to other.

“What?!” said Millie.

“Well, that’s what Fred told me when he got all strange and mysterious on me and didn’t seem to want me around. He said Cynthia burst into his apartment Sunday morning and had her way with him.”

"Who's Cynthia?" asked Mabel.

"His sister-in-law, a former exotic dancer who married his libidinous brother." She looked from aunt to aunt, then groaned softly. “I should have taken him home with me on Saturday,” she said sadly in self-reproach. “I wouldn’t have gotten as much done, but he wouldn’t have been alone.” Myrtle looked again at her aunts, who both still had a look of surprise on their faces. “But then,” continued Myrtle, “I shouldn’t have to watch over him every minute without worrying about who he’s banging!”

Mabel and Millie glanced at each other. Their afternoon out was having the desired effect, but even they were a little shocked by what had happened. But before they could comment or offer advice, Myrtle had more to say.

“It’s the curse!”

“What curse is that?” asked Mabel gently, looking just a little worried.