She had won, at least on that score. Her old clients would get their money back, and they would be off her conscience. And nothing, not even Delamore, would take their place.
Delamore was under arrest, charged with extortion, harassment, and attempting to tamper with a witness. Apparently, he’d faced similar complaints before, but they had never stuck. This time, it looked as if they would.
Grace would have to return to Racine to testify against him. But not for several months. And maybe, Maxine said, not even then. The hope was that Delamore would plea and save everyone the expense of a trial.
So, on her last night in Racine, perhaps forever, Grace got enough courage to call Alex and Carole. She didn’t reach either of them; instead she had to leave a message on their voice mail, asking them to meet her at Oh Kaye’s one final time.
Grace got there first. The place hadn’t changed at all. There was still a jukebox in the corner and cocktail waitresses in short skirts and ankle boots with big heels. Tin stars and Wild West art on the walls, unstained wood and checkered tablecloths adding to the effect. High bar stools and a lot of lonely people.
Grace ignored them. She sashayed to the bar, slapped her hand on it, and ordered whiskey neat. A group of suits at a nearby table ogled her and she turned away.
She was there to diss men not to meet them.
Carole arrived first, black miniskirt, tight crop top, and cigarette in hand. She looked no different. She hugged Grace so hard that Grace thought her ribs would crack.
“Alex had me convinced you were dead.”
Grace shook her head. “I was just sleeping around.”
Carole grinned. “Fun, huh?”
Grace thought. The night had been fun. The aftermath hadn’t been. But her life was certainly more exciting. She didn’t know if the tradeoff was worth it.
Alex arrived a moment later. Her auburn hair had grown, and she was wearing boots beneath a long dress. The boots made her look even taller.
She didn’t hug Grace.
“What the hell’s the idea?” Alex snapped. “You vanished — kapoof! What kind of friend does that?”
In the past, Grace would have stammered something, then told Alex she was exactly right and Grace was wrong. This time, Grace set her whiskey down.
“I told you about my lumpectomy,” Grace said. “You didn’t care. I was scared. I told you that, and you didn’t care. When I found out I didn’t have cancer, I called you to celebrate, and you didn’t care. Seems to me you vanished first.”
Alex’s cheeks were red. Carole stubbed her cigarette in an ashtray on the bar’s wooden rail.
“Not fair,” Alex said.
“That’s what I thought,” Grace said.
Carole looked from one to the other. Finally, she said, very softly, “I really missed you, Gracie.”
“I thought some misogynistic asshole picked you up and killed you,” Alex said.
“Could have happened,” Grace said. “Maybe it nearly did.”
“Here?” Carole asked. “At Oh Kaye’s?”
Grace shook her head. “It’s a long story. Are you both finally ready to listen to me?”
Carole tugged her miniskirt as if she could make it longer. “I want to hear it.”
Alex picked up Grace’s whiskey and tossed it back. Then she wiped off her mouth. “What did I tell you, Grace? Women always tolerate misogyny. You should have fought him off.”
“I did,” Grace said.
Alex’s eyes widened. Carole laughed. “Our Gracie has grown up.”
“No,” Grace said. “I’ve always been grown-up. You’re just noticing now.”
“There’s a story here,” Alex said, slipping her arm through Grace’s, “and I think I need to hear it.”
“Me, too.” Carole put her arm around Grace’s shoulder. “Tell us about your adventures. I promise we’ll listen.”
Grace sighed. She’d love to tell them everything, but if she did, she’d screw up the case against Delamore. “Naw,” Grace said. “Let’s just have some drinks and talk about girl things.”
“You gotta promise to tell us,” Alex said.
“Okay,” Grace said. “I promise. Now how about some whiskey?”
“Beer,” Alex said.
“You see that cute guy over there?” Carole asked, pointing at the suits.
Grace grinned. Already, her adventure was forgotten. Nothing changed here at Oh Kaye’s. Nothing except Cowboy Grace, who’d finally bellied up to the bar.
First published in The Silver Gryphon, edited by Gary Turner and Marty Halpern, Golden Gryphon, 2003.
Cowboy Grace SS Page 5