Chapter 53

The Feminist Mothers for Breastfeeding wants Margot speaking at an outdoor protest this Thursday. Someone in the mayor’s office took exception to a woman nursing her baby in one of the corridors. It’s an outrage, as far as the feminists are concerned. Over Margot’s speakerphone, you can hear the women using words like “subjugation” and “alienation”, which drives Margot nuts. “Listen, Lilly,” she says to one of them, “how you can use subjugation and alienation in the same sentence is beyond me. I got my own thoughts on breastfeeding in public. They may not be the same as yours. Keep that in mind. When is this hootenanny?”

Lilly gives her the time and says she needs an answer as soon as possible. Margot says she’ll get back to her. She hangs up and says, “You can’t sneeze without those girls getting on their high horse.”

“You should tell them that, Margot,” Ruby says. She’s folding towels on the couch.

“They’ll probably string me up.”

“No they won’t,” Max says. “You’ll have them eating out of your hand. Take Ruby with you. She can be your bodyguard.”

“When did I become the muscle around here?” Ruby says.

Otis is starting another song. “Here’s one from The Velvet Bulldozer, Albert King, doing “Don’t Throw Your Love on Me So Strong.” It’s from The Big Blues album, 1961. I’m sending this out to Ruby, my wife and bodyguard.”

“Ass kisser,” Max says from the couch.

Ruby pushes his legs out of the way. “Move it, Max,” she says. “I got a big load of towels and duvet covers.”

“What do you think, Ruby?” Margot says.

“Sure, I’ll go with you. Should be a hoot.”

“Hey, Otis,” Margot says. “Turn down the music. I gotta make a call.” She gets back on the phone to Lilly. “I don’t mind showing up,” she says, “but don’t expect any party line. You want my opinion, that’s what you’re going to get.”

“You tell her, Margot,” Max says. He’s trying to get Bisquick to open a peanut shell. After a few tries, he does it himself and eats the peanut. Bisquick gives him the skunk eye. “It’s your own damn fault, Bisquick. I gave you a chance.”

Ruby has our painter pants fresh out of the dryer. “We’ll be rooting for you on Thursday,” I say to Margot. “Mary might have gone along if we didn’t have our dance class.”

“How’s the dancing working for you?” Margot says.

“I still can’t tango worth a shit.”

“You’re doing okay, Sam,” Muller says.

“Thanks,” I say. “Don’t forget the brownies.”

Otis swings around in his chair. “What about the brownies?”

“We have to take some back for my neighbor.”

“Tell him to make his own brownies.”

“He’s our only source for grass right now.”

“Your neighbor’s our source?”

“Open your mouth on air and I’ll brain you.”

“How many you giving him?”

“Never mind how many he’s giving him,” Ruby says.

“I asked a simple question.” Bisquick starts pecking at the record on the turntable.

“That’s a mint album,” Otis yells, and Margot blasts him with the cattle caller. “Fucking hell, Margot! Not so close.”

Max laughs, saying, “Serves you right, old man.”

“You see where my dentures went?” Bisquick flies upstairs with a set of uppers in his beak. “Grab that bird,” Otis yells.

We head for the door as Otis chases Bisquick behind the couch.