Della Dempsey marched behind them, in a cunning little cocktail dress, dark as night, the top formfitting, satiny and scalloped at the bustline. Her skirt was covered in peacock feathers, and she floated past them, and took her seat.
Martha Man Hands followed, and the girl named Misty turned away, in an attempt to hide herself. Martha wore a top that was jet-black and corseted tightly. Her arms and shoulders were bare, and her voluminous skirts were made of piles and piles of dyed dark taffeta. She wore a single ostrich feather in her short hair, clipped in place by several black barrettes.
The procession continued with Diane Savage Connor in a little black dress, the kind Audrey Hepburn made famous, white gloves, long strands of pearls, a black hat with a white satin bow pinned in her long black hair.
Next came Ronda, in a ball gown, black and enormous, skirts turning into a train behind her, wet from the snow. The train was two yards in length. A rhinestoned jacket covered her shoulders. The dress was surrounded by a cloud of black chiffon that began at her waist and followed down to the train. In her dark hair was a giant headband, bejeweled with tiny green amethysts. This was a giant dress for a giant woman, and she had trouble sliding into the aisle.
Tabby had been attempting to hold Ronda’s train, and her breasts threatened to spill out of her dress. She wore a tiny black bustier, made entirely of rosettes, and a full skirt embroidered with a dazzling bird of paradise.
Red Mabel followed closely behind, and there was an audible gasp from the church as she stepped forward. Red Mabel wore a black tuxedo with tails, a black shirt and a white bow tie, a cummerbund the same material as Athena’s scarf. She wore a shiny top hat, which she removed and tipped at Rachel and Bucky. Red Mabel stopped, waiting for the woman she was escorting.
Laverna revealed herself, making a late and grand entrance as always.
Rachel burst into tears again, but for all the right reasons.
Her mother had been saved for last.
Laverna’s gown glittered and sparkled, and it threw off light all around the bare walls of the church. The bodice was tight, and Rachel was surprised at her mother’s curves. It clung to her, cap-sleeved, every inch covered in silver rhinestones and black bugle beads. Her skirt was Western style, complete with a black crinoline that grazed the floor. It swelled out and around her, the skirts layers of black ruffles, each peaked with a dusting of rhinestones, every layer roped with black pearls. Her hair was a wig, a giant blond beehive that was Victorian in style, ropes of the same black pearls orbiting it, a giant black butterfly with jeweled wings perched at the very top. Following behind was Frank, unleashed, wearing a little black sweater, rhinestones glued to his collar.
At this point, Laverna could not fit in the pew with the rest of the Flood Girls, so she sat down next to Rachel, lowered herself with her hands, her legs stuck out in the aisle, the crinolines and hoops too large to fit. Frank jumped up on her lap, and made a nest in all of the bustles.
After Laverna had wedged herself in, Reverend Foote cleared his throat.
The parishioners ignored him, still turned around in their seats, mouths open. Rachel could see Bert’s face, scarlet with rage.
The walls of the church were cast with flickering lights, the reflection from all the rhinestones.
Rachel knew that Athena and Buley had organized all this. The dresses had come from the thrift store, had been rented in Missoula, or stolen outright. Buley might have sewn some herself. Rachel nodded at her former sponsor. Athena clutched at her scarf made of rainbow colors and smiled sadly in return.
The reverend clapped his hands together, to regain the attention of his congregation, and resumed the service. Rachel didn’t mind, because she was surrounded by her team, surrounded by the Flood Girls.
She held Bucky’s hand, and she held her mother’s hand, and things seemed the way Jake would have wanted, and she was content.
The reverend began speaking again, and then Frank let out a sharp bark and jumped down from Laverna’s lap. They had never heard him bark before, and watched as he marched up the aisle. The front rows murmured as he made his way to the front of the church. He turned around when he reached the platform, and sat in front of the coffin, staring defiantly at the entire congregation.
Frank guarded the boy who was going to be buried. The reverend called for the owner, but Laverna ignored him.
This time, Frank wasn’t going anywhere.
Fireman’s Ball, 1992
The Fireman’s Ball, 1992, and the fire hall was stifling hot, as usual, but Rachel stood by the barrels of fire, reluctant to leave the side of Red Mabel, who was telling some story about a grizzly bear. Red Mabel did not like it when people abandoned her in the middle of a story.
Rachel was in the corner with Laverna, Red Mabel, and Martha. They were drinking beers, while Rachel sipped on her soda. Conversation turned to Rocky Bailey, who had been made an honorary volunteer fireman.
The jitterbuggers made asses of themselves in the back, tripping on hoses, but dancing on, carelessly, recklessly, happily. Rachel admired them for this.
Martha’s daughter, Misty, was hiding in the corner, sucking face with one of the volunteer firemen. Martha was too drunk to notice her, and Rachel didn’t feel like warning Misty about what her future held.
Across the hall, the Chief was in deep conversation with Bucky. Bucky held the coffee can with the ticket stubs. He had apparently been promoted.
During the last four months, Red Mabel had been preoccupied, plans spinning behind her eyes. She was a huntress, and Rachel hoped the assassination would be messy, but remain covert. Bert had it coming.
Jake was buried behind New Life Evangelical, and there wasn’t anything the Flood Girls could do about it. He was the first to be buried there, which would have pleased him. Ginger and Rachel planted a dogwood bush behind the headstone, despite the reverend’s protestations. To silence him, Ginger promised to return with one of Red Mabel’s guns. In the winter, the bare branches of the dogwood were a bright red, the only bright thing in all that snow. Laverna and Rachel hung a rosary from the branches, and the parishioners kept removing it. There was no shortage of rosaries at the thrift store, and Buley was happy to provide replacements.
Rachel watched as Laverna nearly fell into a barrel, but Red Mabel reached out and caught her in time. Diane was deep in conversation with her latest beau, the hippie from Missoula. Rumor at the Dirty Shame was that the two were building an A-frame out in the wilderness. They danced together by the utility sink, so close they seemed to be melting into each other. A flash from the dark corner, Black Mabel and her new white teeth, selling something illicit to an impressionable young fireman. The Sinclairs were nowhere to be found. They did not, and never would, attend such things. Ginger Fitchett and Della argued about something that had to do with the decorations. Ginger kept pointing upward and shaking her head. She appointed herself the decorator of the entire town of Quinn, her version of continuing Jake’s good works.
Ronda attempted to sell raffle tickets, but she just stood silently in front of people until they grew uncomfortable and emptied their pockets. Jim Number Three gave her a twenty-dollar bill. He was the only volunteer who took care of his uniform—his polo shirt was neatly ironed. Rachel respected that, and she also admired his tenaciousness. He approached Laverna, but stopped short, pretended to inspect a fire extinguisher latched to the wall. Rachel did not understand the necessity of a fire extinguisher amid all those hoses, but understood being nervous here. Once upon a time, she had stood by herself, trying to appear inconspicuous.
Rachel touched his arm as she passed him, and Jim Number Three smiled gratefully. Her mother lectured Red Mabel about machine guns.
“Everyone will know it was you,” Laverna said, and accepted a kiss on the cheek from her daughter.
“I can’t help it,” said Red Mabel.
Rachel wrapped an arm around Laverna’s neck, and agreed with Red Mabel. “You have flair,” said Rachel. “You should ne
ver be ashamed of it.”
“Thank you,” said Red Mabel. A year ago, the bullets were meant for someone else. Rachel laughed at the memory, leaned close to her mother, whispered in her ear.
Laverna sighed and threw her cigarette into the barrel. Jim Number Three beamed when she approached. Rachel and Red Mabel made plans for Laverna’s birthday, to be celebrated for the first time in years.
Rachel checked on the rest of the Flood Girls, made sure they all had rides home. She stopped to gossip with Tabby about the newest volunteer in town. Thankfully, his name was not Jim. Rachel crossed the cement floor to join the Chief, who stood next to her favorite volunteer fireman.
She stood on her tiptoes to kiss Bucky on the lips. After all these months, he still blushed.
She grabbed the can from Bucky’s hands and searched all over until she found a young fireman with bad skin and a crooked nose. Rachel handed him the tickets, and told him that he was in charge, and warned him not to screw it up.
She walked back over to Bucky and yanked at his arm until he followed her outside into the cold and clean air of another February night.
He did not want to miss the raffle, but she promised she had a better prize, waiting for him at home.
Acknowledgments
This book would not have been possible without the love and support of my family—my sisters, Lisa Cooper, Launa Baas, and Dana Wallace; my awesome stepfather, Gary Jones; my nieces, Mykah and Britt Cooper; and my superstar of a nephew, Brian O’Neill. I thank all the rest of my relatives for putting up with me.
My friends are everything to me. Amber Boyce, Laura Kamura, and John Runkle kindly offered me the space and time to write. My recovery family in Missoula have offered me hope and faith—I am honored to travel the road of sobriety with you. A special shout-out to my kids at Young Guns—keep on trudging, and never wear socks with sandals! I must thank my readers and editors, for helping to make this book sing: Kris Frieswick, John Myers, Haili Jones Graff, Mari Passananti, Jenn Grunigen, Lorna Doone Brewer, Kori Erickson, Mike Paulus, Charles Garabedian, Sharma Shields, Queen Jackie Collins, Laura Moriarty, and most of all, the miracle that is Deirdre McNamer. I would also like to thank Erinn Ackley, Sara Trotter, Sandra Maggi, Sydney Lytle, Diane More, Stacey Walker Oldham, Rhian Ellis, Robert Gerber, Jeff Ferderer, Greg Shanks, Dana Fiengo Pruner, Lar K. Autio, Gregory Gourdet, Erin Giefer, Lisa Hunt, Janelle Jones, Lucy Hansen, Lesley Lotto, Patrick Ryan, Kelly Faciana, Julie Hergenrather, Jennifer Hendrickson, Robin O’Day, Kenzie Kovick, all of my former coworkers at 2675 Palmer, the Creative Writing Department at the University of Montana, and the Zootown Arts Community Center. This book took root in a workshop with the truly incomparable Jenna Blum.
My team is flawless and ferocious: Lucy Stille, Jenny Bent at the Bent Agency, and Alison Callahan Kilkelly at Simon & Schuster. Thanks for taking a chance on me!
Finally, this book was inspired by the good people of my hometown, Troy, Montana, and especially all the beautiful women who played softball. They taught me about grace, strength, and self-acceptance. I thank you all!
XOXO, Richard
THE FLOOD GIRLS by Richard Fifield
Readers Group Guide
Introduction
In the tiny, isolated town of Quinn, Montana, Laverna Flood owns and operates The Dirty Shame, a local watering hole patronized by day-drinking lesbian silver miners and a variety of alcoholics, and moonlights as the coach of the Flood Girls, an all-women’s softball team that has never had a winning season. When her prodigal daughter Rachel returns after a nine-year absence, newly sober and hoping to redeem herself after sleeping with most of Quinn’s male population (including her mother’s boyfriend), Laverna plans on maintaining the silent treatment—until her right fielder suddenly quits, forcing her to put Rachel on the Flood Girls’ roster.
As Rachel reacquaints herself with Quinn and does her best to get past that stubborn Step 9 (it’s difficult to make amends when your entire hometown refuses to read your apology letters), she forms an unlikely friendship with Jake, a flamboyant twelve-year-old with exquisite taste, a vast second-hand wardrobe, and a long list of persecutors. Over the course of the Flood Girls’ first-ever winning season, Rachel finds comfort, self-acceptance, and a support system that gets her through the hardest of losses, both on and off the field.
Topics and Questions for Discussion
1. Laverna is a commanding—and often feared—presence in Quinn. Discuss Fifield’s depiction of Laverna. Would you describe her as an anti-hero? How does she act as both a divisive and a unifying force?
2. Fifield uncovers Rachel’s dark past slowly over the course of the book. How did your impression of Rachel change as you discovered more about her backstory? Ultimately, did you see her as a sympathetic character, despite her transgressions?
3. Discuss Jake and Rachel’s unlikely friendship. How do the two find common ground? What do they learn from each other?
4. How do Rachel and Laverna evolve over the course of the book? What experiences and life lessons allow them to overcome their years-long rift?
5. Redemption and forgiveness are two major themes of The Flood Girls. Discuss the ways in which Rachel, Laverna, Bert, and Krystal attempt to make amends for their mistakes. How successful are they?
6. After recounting Quinn’s history of devastating fires, Fifield writes, “The whole town seemed to be waiting for the flames to return.” How does this sentiment resonate throughout the storyline? In your opinion, is The Flood Girls a hopeful novel?
7. The Flood Girls tackles serious issues like discrimination and addiction, but it is peppered with moments of surprising humor and levity. What was your favorite moment of comic relief?
8. As Rachel observes children in sleds pulled along by their dads’ four wheelers, she thinks, “This was how you survived the winter in Quinn . . . Sometimes you had to let other people pull you.” Discuss how the characters in The Flood Girls allow others to help them, often in unexpected ways. Did any of these moments surprise you? Why
9. Many of the characters are guided by religion and spirituality, from Bert’s evangelism to Rachel’s higher power to Jake’s rosary beads. What, in your opinion, does The Flood Girls have to say about religion?
10. Why do you think Fifield decided to bookmark The Flood Girls with two deaths? What are the legacies that Frank and Jake leave behind?
11. The Flood Girls features an unforgettable ensemble cast, from the braless and tempestuous Red Mabel to meth-addled Black Mabel to big-hearted and big-toothed Bucky. Who was your favorite secondary character, and why?
12. In what ways does the landscape of Quinn, with its bitter snowstorms, bear invasions, and lack of street signs, traffic lights, and sidewalks, function as a character in The Flood Girls? How does the setting influence the course of events in the novel?
Enhance Your Book Club
1. Host a Flood Girls-inspired movie night and watch A League of Their Own.
2. Learn to cross-stitch with your book club. (Bonus points if you cross-stitch while listening to Madonna.)
3. Pick a team name for your book club and design uniforms together. (Bonus points if you cross-stitch the design yourselves—while listening to Madonna.)
4. Learn more about the author by visiting his website (http://www.richardfifield.com/), and by following him on Twitter (@richard_fifield) and Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/richardfifieldthefloodgirls).
Author Q&A
1. You indicate in the author’s note that Jake’s storyline is semi-autobiographical. How are you and Jake similar? How are you different? Aside from Jake, are there any other characters in particular that you relate to?
Jake and I are both from a small town in Montana. He dressed much better than I, however. I only wish I had his fashion sense! We both relied on Jackie Collins and Madonna for a taste of life outside the mountains. Like Jake, I stuck out from the crowd, and could not help it. Jake has a rough life, but I was fortunate enough to have a tremendously
supportive family. There were certainly bullies growing up, but I always had a pack of girlfriends that offered love and camaraderie, and most importantly, protection. My real hometown is a much more nuanced place—the people of Troy are amazing. I was probably more like Misty as a child—I was definitely a handful. I relate to Rachel’s reckless faith, but also Laverna’s need for control.
2. Which character was the most fun to write? Which was the most challenging for you?
My favorite character to write was Laverna, which should come as no surprise. I thought that Rachel would be the easiest to write, as our journey has been so similar, but giving her depth was a challenge at times.
3. Did the process of writing The Flood Girls change the way in which you view your real-life hometown?
Most definitely! When I was growing up, all I could think of was getting out. As quickly as possible. I hated it. Getting older, and writing this book, and practicing forgiveness have all made me realize how lucky I was. I’m from the last generation before the internet, and I was forced to create my own entertainment. Dreaming and writing were my escapes.
4. What was the revision process like for you, particularly given that you wrote the first draft of The Flood Girls so quickly?
Editing is painful. There is no better feeling than filling pages while writing a rough draft, but editing is like math, addition and subtraction. I hate math. Writing a book is like having a baby, but then you have to wait months to find out if your baby is cute, or completely horrendous. This process has taught me so much about patience, and most importantly, letting go. I am so thankful that I had such great readers and editors—Jenny Bent and Alison Callahan were invaluable, and I trusted them completely.
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