Plenty of Trouble

by Magenta Wilde

  “Plenty, what’s happening?” I tried to push my way in through the throng of men. “Something is off.”

  “Hey red,” a stocky brute of a man snapped at me. “Leave her alone. Normally I’d be into two women getting it on, but I don’t want to share the blonde.”

  “Like you have a shot with her,” I snapped. I tried to muscle my way in farther, but the men put up a fight to keep me out.

  “Leave her alone,” another grunted. “She needs to pick me.”

  I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Something seriously needed to happen to break whatever this was.

  “Hey!” a loud voice broke through all the hustle and bustle. I looked and saw a huge man, at least six-foot-five and built like a pro wrestler, making his way in our direction.

  Oh boy, if he’s after Plenty, this is going to turn into a riot, I thought to myself.

  “Where’s my thousand dollars?” the giant boomed.

  I looked, and Trish and Mike followed the large man. My friend made her way to my side. “What is going on here,” she asked. “Why are all these men crowding Plenty?”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure. Suddenly it’s like she’s the only thing in the room.” I reached out a hand to Roger to try and distract him and he shoved me away.

  “What the hell?” Trish said, outraged.

  “He’s suddenly into her,” I said. Fortunately, the urge to cry had passed but I felt my face growing red with anger and disappointment. Trish looked at me and I looked away just in case her supportive face would cause my eyes to bubble and tear again.

  “Hey, you jerk,” Trish said, clapping Roger hard on the shoulder. “Pay attention to your lady!”

  Roger turned to her, his expression hateful. “I’m trying to get somewhere with Plenty here. Get out!”

  A waitress passed with a large tray and a pitcher of beer and a quartet of glasses balanced atop it. Trish grabbed the vessel and doused its contents over Roger’s head.

  He snapped to attention, ready to lurch at her, when he shook his head and stopped, frozen in place. “What the hell?”

  Trish pointed at me. “You should be focused on this fine young woman. Or you should have been. I hope she gives you grief for being such an ass tonight, because if she doesn’t, I will.”

  Roger wiped at his face with his sleeve and something shifted in his eyes. He looked less glazed. “Wait? What happened?”

  “I honestly have no idea,” I fumed, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Where’s my money, Wyatt?” The tall man’s voice boomed over the conversational white noise and jukebox music filling the bar.

  I turned to Trish. “Is that Mike’s brother?”

  She nodded. “Like Mike thought, when Carl found out Wyatt would be here, he decided to settle accounts.”

  “Good luck with that,” I huffed. “He bummed forty bucks out of Roger less than a half hour ago.”

  Carl and Mike were standing on either side of Wyatt, poking him in the shoulder and shoving him back as they stared him down. Each push seemed to jolt Wyatt closer to reality.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he laughed, darting worried glances around the bar.

  “In that case,” Carl began, “I’ll remind you. You borrowed money last winter. Said it was for a plow. Then more in the spring. Does that refresh your memory?”

  “A bit,” Wyatt laughed nervously.

  “And what does that tell you?” Carl challenged.

  “Um, that maybe you shouldn’t be loaning so much money?” Wyatt chuckled.

  “Oh, this idiot thinks he’s funny. You know what I think is funny? This.” He slammed a fist into Wyatt’s jaw. The younger Montgomery brother stumbled back and managed to regain his footing as he corrected on a chair by the wall.

  “What the fuck?” he snapped. He was touching his jaw and spat out some blood. He lobbed a determined look at Carl, thinking for a moment, then bolted and charged the big man. Soon the two were grappling and grunting as they threw punches and yanked one another around. Carl clearly had an advantage due to his size and rage.

  “Oh shit,” Roger groaned. He slipped out of his jacket and handed it to me.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed.

  “He’s my brother. I can’t let that guy kill him.”

  “I don’t think that’s likely to happen,” I said, turning to Trish. “Do you?”

  She shrugged. “Carl does like to fight. So does Mike. If Roger gets into it, I guarantee Mike will.”

  Sure enough, Mike dove in when Roger’s peacemaking efforts ended with him landing a quick punch on Carl’s chin. Soon tables were turning and fists flying as brothers fought brothers.

  I looked over at Plenty and saw a fascinated look on her face as she watched the melee unfold.

  I turned to Trish. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Do you want to leave?” she asked.

  “I kind of do, but I haven’t seen a good fight in a while.” I squinched up my face as I saw Wyatt take a particularly nasty punch to the nose. He tottered back like he was drunk and tumbled against the wall. Carl went and towered over him, demanding debts be paid.

  Roger went and tried to pull him back. “That’s enough, Carl. You clocked him pretty hard. He’s down.”

  Carl shook off Roger’s hand, but he started to back off. “He owes me a thousand dollars,” he seethed.

  “I’ll pay it to you tomorrow,” Roger said, “under one condition.”

  “What is that?”

  Wyatt struggled to get up, looking at his brother with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “To get you off my back, of course.”

  Roger shook his head, his lip already swelling from a hit he took earlier. “I’ll only pay you back under the condition that you never lend him another dime again. And that you spread the word that no one else should lend him any money either. He’s a risk, and I won’t bail him out again.”

  “Done.” Carl stuck out his hand to Roger. The older Montgomery brother took it and they sealed the deal. Then Carl began to walk away.

  “Wait? What?” Wyatt stammered.

  “Your ass is covered in this one case,” Roger spat. “Consider yourself lucky.”

  “Don’t interfere with my life like that!” Wyatt snapped as he lurched up and charged at Roger, sending his brother toppling back and colliding with Carl. Carl grunted from the impact and the melee started up again.

  I turned to Trish and saw police lights flashing outside. “I’ve seen enough, I guess. I think I’m going to go and get breakfast around the corner. Especially since the law has shown up.”

  “I think I’ll join you,” Trish said.

  “What about Mike?”

  She shrugged. “We can swing back around here after an omelet. If they’re here, fine. If not, I’ll catch up with him tomorrow. As far as I’m concerned, we lost track of our men in the chaos. Do you want to bring Plenty along?”

  I shook my head. “I already fed and watered her tonight, and I’m tired of her at this point. Let’s go.”

  “What about Roger? He seemed like he was under some kind of influence. All those guys seemed to be, in fact.”

  “Who knows? I’m mad at him regardless. I’d rather pig out in peace.”

  “I hear you there, friend. Let’s eat omelets and share some pancakes without the menfolk.”

  “Roger was the highlight of my night an hour ago, but you’ve dethroned him,” I said. I looked at his jacket and was tempted to throw it at him but instead put it on. He probably wouldn’t be outside long since I suspected the quartet of men only faced a walk from the bar to the squad cars, unless the cops let them off without a warning. Oh, well.

  Trish smiled. “He’s a good guy. When I poured the beer on his head he seemed to snap to attention again.”

  “I think you’re right, but tonight I’m not sharing my pancakes with anyone but you,” I said, linking my arm with her as we made our way out the door.

  After our late-night
breakfast, Trish and I returned to the bar to see what had happened. We expected to see just a few people milling about, perhaps talking about the fight while smoking cigarettes by the door.

  I pulled up short when I saw a patrol car as well as Mom and Tom. “Oh, crap,” I said, freezing while considering turning around.

  Trish saw the newlyweds as well and began backing up.

  “The two of you, stop right now!” My mother’s voice was loud and clear. Several patrons paused and snapped their heads in our direction.

  I sighed, and we made our way to where Tom and Mom stood.

  “So, fancy seeing you here, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler,” Trish began.

  “Don’t you try that innocent act on me,” Mom began.

  “Act? We’ve done nothing wrong all night,” I argued. “In fact, I’d say we’ve both been wronged.”

  Trish nodded earnestly. “Yes. Our men abandoned us to fight. And Poppy is really hurting because Roger hit on Plenty.”

  My mother’s mouth dropped open. “Wait? What?” She threw her lit cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out and making her way to the police car in front of the Towne. She leaned in toward the rear window of one cruiser, peering in and pounding on the window. “Lock him up!”

  Tom scurried over to Mom and pulled her away. “Fiona! What’s going on?”

  “That grease monkey hit on Plenty. Don’t you dare get the charges dropped.”

  “Keep your mother with you,” Tom ordered. “I’m talking to the cops so they don’t press charges against anyone.”

  “You can do that?” I was amazed.

  “It’s all who you know,” Tom said.

  “Okay, then.” That was good to know. I looked around. “Where is Plenty?”

  “I don’t know,” Mom said. “I haven’t seen her since we got here.”

  “How’d you end up down here anyways, Fiona?” Trish asked.

  “Plenty called us because she couldn’t find you after the fight broke up and the cops arrived.” She looked up and down the street. “Now she’s missing.”

  “I guess we lost her in the shuffle,” I lied.

  My mother leaned in closer. “I smell bacon and onion. I’m guessing you two lost yourself in omelets.”

  “That, too,” I agreed.

  My mother shook her head in disapproval at me.

  “You would have done the same,” I argued, “if you saw an escape. Plus I seem to remember you barging in on my date in your desperation to escape Aunt Lindy and Plenty.”

  “Did you interfere with Poppy potentially getting it on with Roger?” Trish asked. “If so, shame on you, Fiona.”

  My mother ignored Trish’s dig. “I understand the temptation to escape that jabbering fool, but that’s tacky of you to just abandon your cousin like that. She is not familiar with this town, and she could run into the wrong kind of guy.”

  “You have a point,” I agreed, but I didn’t exactly feel all heartbroken about it.

  Trish chortled. I gave her a look. “What?”

  “You abandoned her like she wanted to abandon her panties for Wyatt.”

  I laughed, but clapped my mouth shut when Tom shot me a dirty look.

  “Hey there, Red.”

  I turned and saw Jacob. He stood on the sidewalk nursing a beer.

  “Oh, hi,” I waved weakly.

  A police officer milling by the squad car gave him a pointed look. Jacob turned to throw out the beer, draining the bottle quickly before pitching it in the trash. The police officer nodded.

  “Looks like your guy got into some trouble,” Jacob observed, inclining his head toward the squad car.

  “I guess so.” I turned back to the bearded man. “You didn’t happen to see where my cousin went, did you?”

  Jacob nodded, a grin claiming his rugged features. “She went home with Tony.”

  “Who’s Tony?” Mom asked.

  “Jacob’s friend,” I said, jerking a thumb in his direction.

  “And who is Jacob?” Tom asked as he approached.

  “Tony’s friend, who apparently is now Plenty’s friend,” I said.

  “And how do you know this Jacob and Tony?” Mom asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t really know them. We chatted for a bit earlier tonight. That’s all.”

  “I’m willing to get friendlier with you, Red,” Jacob chuckled. “How about we go back inside and continue where we left off?” He gave me another wink.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” Roger, who had been let out of the cruiser, slammed into Jacob, knocking him against the wall. A police officer darted out and pried Roger away before Jacob could retaliate.

  “Do you want to go back into the squad car,” the cop pressed.

  Roger stilled slightly. “I don’t want him talking to my girlfriend that way.”

  “I could haul you to the station for attacking this guy,” the cop continued, “especially if this guy wants to press charges.”

  Jacob looked conflicted for a second. “Well, that would give me a chance to get to know this lady better…”

  Roger tried to jerk free of the cop’s grip, but by then Tom had also stepped in and both were pulling him back. I still felt annoyed with Roger for his attentions toward Plenty, however brief they were, and a bit concerned when I saw the bruise purpling under his eye along with his swollen lip.

  “Please, Jacob,” I said, resting my hand on his forearm, “don’t press charges. You’ve seen what a crazy night it’s been,” I pleaded.

  “Fine. I’ll let it slide. If you decide you want a guy who won’t hit on the first blonde he sees, come find me in here some time. I may be crass and crude, but I’m loyal and I’ll show you a good time.”

  “Noted. And thanks,” I said, patting his arm.

  Jacob went back inside. I circled and looked at Roger. He was simmering down so the police officer and Tom relaxed their grips on him. He approached me timidly. “I was worried about you. When the dust settled, you were nowhere in sight.”

  “I was mad – really mad – when you hit on Plenty,” I admitted. “When the fight broke out and the cops showed up, Trish and I left for a bit of quiet over at Frankie’s.”

  Roger hung his head down low. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened there. It was like some switch went off and I felt like I had to have her.”

  “A switch?” My mother, curious, came closer. “What does that mean?”

  “I’m not sure.” I looked at Roger. “I’m still upset. You went after her like a dog in heat, and shoved me away when I tried to grab your arm.”

  Roger looked stricken. “I didn’t mean to do any of that. It was like my impulses weren’t my own. It was almost like when I used to drink, but worse.”

  I gave him an assessing look, then turned to Trish.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “Deep down I think I believe him.”

  Roger relaxed a bit.

  “I think I believe him, too,” Trish said. “You should still punish him, though.”

  Roger furrowed his brow, annoyed. “What?”

  Trish shrugged. “Your punishment will be to take her out somewhere nice, after the family leaves town. Preferably across the river.”

  I smiled. “You’d make a good judge, Trish.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  I turned back to Roger. “I believe you. But that doesn’t mean I necessarily am happy with you at this moment. I need a few hours to myself to cool down.”

  He looked hurt, and opened his mouth to speak. I held a hand up to still him. “I’m not mad at you like I’m going to break things off with you. But I’m hurt.” I suddenly felt exhausted and hungry for some quiet. “I’m going to go home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and said goodbye to my mother and Tom. Trish said, “I’m going to check on Mike and then head home myself.”

  I began walking.

  “Where are you parked?” Roger called out as he trailed me. “I’ll walk you to y
our car.”

  I waved him off. “I’m going to walk home. I had a big meal and a lot of drinks. I’d like to clear my head.”

  “I could walk with you.”

  “No. I really want a few hours to myself.”

  “But it’s late. It’s dark.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve taken plenty of late-night walks.”

  “Still,” Roger pressed. “Something could happen.”

  “Have you read our local paper? The crime blotter in particular? We have kids egging cars or someone stealing a Virgin Mary statue off someone’s front lawn. Oh my God, it’s such a dangerous city we live in.” I shook my hands around my head for emphasis.

  I waved goodbye to all and started making my way east on Portage. Traffic had dwindled and it was cool, clear and crisp outside. I took a left to lengthen my walking distance and made my way toward Brady Park. A freighter lumbered along the river and I took a moment to watch its slow progress. I inhaled deeply, savoring the night air, and kept heading toward home. I saw the headlights of a truck behind me and turned to look, to assess if it were a potential threat. I recognized it as it drew nearer, Montgomery Towing painted on the side. Roger pulled up.

  “Come on, Poppy! I’m sorry.”

  Roger’s voice was pleading. I almost felt pity for him, but I was too steamed. After all that had transpired, I simply wanted to walk home and clear my head in the quiet northern Michigan night air.

  I could have had half a mile under my belt and been three blocks from home, enjoying the gentle slosh of the St. Mary’s River and the lights of our sister city across the way reflecting on the dark October waters. Instead Roger was tailing me at a snail’s pace.

  I stopped, then turned and landed my hands on my hips, fixing him with an angry glare. “What, Roger? I told you back by the Towne that I needed some time to myself and that I wanted to walk home. What’s so difficult to understand about that?”

  He put his truck in park and flicked on the emergency blinkers before exiting and jogging over to me, placing his hands on my upper arms and forcing me to look up into his cool blue eyes.