eyes at Earl.
“They’re going to like it less if we raise taxes next year.” Earl turned to Derek Muench. “What do you think?”
Becky exchanged a glance with Gloria. It was like Earl to want Derek’s opinion over theirs. Just because he and Derek had the same plumbing.
“Well...” Derek rubbed his chin, putting off the moment to give an opinion.
Becky crossed her legs. She suspected the only reason Derek had run for the village board was to get away from his mother for a few hours on a regular basis. Elaine was a sweet woman – though a tad controlling – who had muscular sclerosis, and he didn’t like to leave her alone too long. He even managed to work from home, doing tech things that no one else in the area could do.
If someone needed a website, Derek was their go-to guy. Thin with glasses, he even looked like a geek. But he had a sweet smile and his shyness was kind of endearing. It made Becky want to cuddle him in the same way she wanted to cuddle kittens and small dogs.
She didn’t know why some girl in her twenties didn’t snap him up. As if reading her thoughts, Derek smiled at Becky then shuffled his papers.
“Don’t keep us in suspense.” Gloria leaned across the table. “The roads aren’t going to fix themselves.”
“Gloria’s right about the roads.” Derek turned to Earl. “We could go to the state for funds.”
Earl’s fist thudded on the table. “No damn way I’m asking the state for anything. We don’t want the state poking around in our business.”
Becky took a gulp from her bottle of water. She suspected Earl had let his licenses or permits for his taxidermy business lapse...if he ever had them. He probably didn’t report his income. She set down her bottle and saw that the left side of Derek’s mouth, the side away from Earl, was kicked up.
So, Derek had said that on purpose. Living with Elaine, he’d learned how to be sneaky. How to say one thing and think another. How to convince someone they wanted to do something when they originally wanted to do something else.
The unwritten job description of a minister’s wife.
She blinked. Where did that thought come from?
“We could sell the old Chevy dump truck to Trey Nieman,” Earl said.
Trey?
“What dump truck?” Becky asked, even as her brain cells woke up. The cells in the rest of her body brightened, too.
Trey had been the bad boy in high school in Tomahawk, two years ahead of Becky. He lived in Tomahawk, while she was bussed there. With his dark hair worn long, as if he flaunted his quarter-Ojibwe blood, he was the guy that every girl’s father warned her to stay away from.
Not that Becky had wanted to go out with Trey. Everyone knew she and Jim were perfect for each other. Besides, Trey had made her nervous. Too much testosterone for her back then.
“The pile of rust behind the village garage,” Gloria answered Becky’s dump truck question.
Becky nodded. Trey did pretty much the same thing as her brother-in-law. The difference was she’d heard Trey made money at it.
“How much is he offering?” Gloria asked.
Becky’s mind wandered. She’d been relieved when Trey left for California shortly after she started college. According to gossip, he’d only returned a couple months ago when he found out he had a seventeen-year-old son. Apparently the bad boy was turning out to be a good man.
Welcome back to small town Wisconsin, she thought. Where the beer flowed freely, the village board president didn’t pay taxes and the biggest entertainment was each other’s lives.
“Two thousand,” Earl said.
That got Becky’s attention. She sat up straight.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell us?” Gloria demanded.
“I’m trying to get more.”
“What’s it worth?” Gloria asked.
Earl scowled at the fake wood table top, as if it had done something to offend him besides being ugly. “I looked ’em up. Depends on the condition.”
“That thing’s so rusted it doesn’t have a
“They’re going to like it less if we raise taxes next year.” Earl turned to Derek Muench. “What do you think?”
Becky exchanged a glance with Gloria. It was like Earl to want Derek’s opinion over theirs. Just because he and Derek had the same plumbing.
“Well...” Derek rubbed his chin, putting off the moment to give an opinion.
Becky crossed her legs. She suspected the only reason Derek had run for the village board was to get away from his mother for a few hours on a regular basis. Elaine was a sweet woman – though a tad controlling – who had muscular sclerosis, and he didn’t like to leave her alone too long. He even managed to work from home, doing tech things that no one else in the area could do.
If someone needed a website, Derek was their go-to guy. Thin with glasses, he even looked like a geek. But he had a sweet smile and his shyness was kind of endearing. It made Becky want to cuddle him in the same way she wanted to cuddle kittens and small dogs.
She didn’t know why some girl in her twenties didn’t snap him up. As if reading her thoughts, Derek smiled at Becky then shuffled his papers.
“Don’t keep us in suspense.” Gloria leaned across the table. “The roads aren’t going to fix themselves.”
“Gloria’s right about the roads.” Derek turned to Earl. “We could go to the state for funds.”
Earl’s fist thudded on the table. “No damn way I’m asking the state for anything. We don’t want the state poking around in our business.”
Becky took a gulp from her bottle of water. She suspected Earl had let his licenses or permits for his taxidermy business lapse...if he ever had them. He probably didn’t report his income. She set down her bottle and saw that the left side of Derek’s mouth, the side away from Earl, was kicked up.
So, Derek had said that on purpose. Living with Elaine, he’d learned how to be sneaky. How to say one thing and think another. How to convince someone they wanted to do something when they originally wanted to do something else.
The unwritten job description of a minister’s wife.
She blinked. Where did that thought come from?
“We could sell the old Chevy dump truck to Trey Nieman,” Earl said.
Trey?
“What dump truck?” Becky asked, even as her brain cells woke up. The cells in the rest of her body brightened, too.
Trey had been the bad boy in high school in Tomahawk, two years ahead of Becky. He lived in Tomahawk, while she was bussed there. With his dark hair worn long, as if he flaunted his quarter-Ojibwe blood, he was the guy that every girl’s father warned her to stay away from.
Not that Becky had wanted to go out with Trey. Everyone knew she and Jim were perfect for each other. Besides, Trey had made her nervous. Too much testosterone for her back then.
“The pile of rust behind the village garage,” Gloria answered Becky’s dump truck question.
Becky nodded. Trey did pretty much the same thing as her brother-in-law. The difference was she’d heard Trey made money at it.
“How much is he offering?” Gloria asked.
Becky’s mind wandered. She’d been relieved when Trey left for California shortly after she started college. According to gossip, he’d only returned a couple months ago when he found out he had a seventeen-year-old son. Apparently the bad boy was turning out to be a good man.
Welcome back to small town Wisconsin, she thought. Where the beer flowed freely, the village board president didn’t pay taxes and the biggest entertainment was each other’s lives.
“Two thousand,” Earl said.
That got Becky’s attention. She sat up straight.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell us?” Gloria demanded.
“I’m trying to get more.”
“What’s it worth?” Gloria asked.
Earl scowled at the fake wood table top, as if it had done something to offend him besides being ugly. “I looked ’em up. Depends on the condition.”
“That thing’s so rusted it doesn’t have a