The Devil's Beating His Wife by Siobhán Béabhar Page A

something useful. Baxter don't want to be bothered by none of your stupid questions."
    "What exactly should I do?" Mother snapped.
    "I don't know. Maybe you can go burn something in the kitchen. It's damn near dinnertime."
    Mother's head tilted as she angled a spiteful look at my father. Her eyes narrowed as she thought of her next words. "I still don't know why I haven't poisoned you and collected your life insurance."
    "I'm already immune to any type of poison you can hurl at me, woman. Now get on outta here."
    Mother slapped her open palms down on the couch and pushed herself to her feet. She stared down at Father and then turned towards me and abruptly placed a kiss on my forehead. "I'm so glad you're home, baby," she said as she ruffled my hair. She sauntered out of the room, dismissing my father's sharp words. The sorrowful mourning sure had not lasted long.
    I glanced at him and caught the slight smile curling his lips. He winked at me and waited for her to leave the room. When she entered the kitchen, he leaned towards me and said, "I love her dearly, but she's a few bricks from a wall. You get my meaning?"
    Silently, I agreed with my father, but I said nothing. I had learned long ago to never agree with my father's assessments of my mother; he'd either slap me across my head for disrespecting my mother or he'd slyly mention my betrayal to her, causing her to pout and admonish me.
    I decided to turn the conversation back to the news of the hour. "This war ain't gonna end because he's dead, you know that, right?"
    "Of course I know that. I ain't your mother." He snuck a glance towards the kitchen and then pinned me with his blue eyes. "Truman will take the reins and we'll trod on."
    "I'm so very tired of this war."
    "Roosevelt certainly was. That's why he up and died."
    "He's been ill a long time."
    Father clucked his tongue and sat back in his chair. "You can be sure this war hastened him to his grave."
    Footsteps pounded on the porch. The front door opened and banged closed. Carver stormed into the room, his chest heaving with exertion and sweat beading on his brow. "Have y'all heard? I had just gotten into town when I heard the news. I had to turn right back around. Good morning, Mother."
    The sound of Carver's voice caught Mother's attention. She walked to the kitchen doorway and glared into the parlor. "Is that female here?"
    "Cecilia, not this again," Father barked.
    Mother placed her hands on her hips and walked slowly into the room. She waved an oven mitt in my father's direction. "Arthur, I've done had about enough of you." She glanced up and down Carver's body. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his excited state. "What has she done to you now?"
    "Damn it, Mother, this isn't about Mary-Alice!"
    "Carv—" my mother whimpered.
    "Carver!" my father snapped. He stood up from his chair and glared down at his youngest son. "Your mother may be a nitwit, but she's still your mother. Don't you talk that way to her again, you understand me?"
    "I don't know whether to thank you or smother you, Frank."
    I clapped my hands to silence the room. Father looked down at me with amusement. Mother leaned around Carver to see if Mary-Alice was hovering nearby. Carver stood with his face darkened and eyes dropped to the floor.
    "So you heard, Carver," I said to him. "Roosevelt is dead and the war will continue."
    Carver blinked a few times as if recalling the news that had brought him to the house in such a panic. "There's going to be a prayer vigil for the family down in the town center. I'm gonna pick up Mary-Alice and bring the boy along."
    "The boy? You mean my grandson, Carver? Little Frankie? Why don't you ever bring him here?" Mother asked, sorrow in her eyes.
    "Maybe because you don't allow his wife to step foot into this place? Would you let one of our boys go to a place where you ain't welcome? Ah, now, don't go down that road, Cecilia." Father glanced at Carver and then at me. "I think we should all go down this evening.