Chapter 84

Margot’s decided to lease vans for everybody: names will be painted on the sides, logos designed, and the Margomax insignia on the back doors. Something tells me Frank has his finger in this. They have secret meetings in her bedroom and Frank emerges, screaming away, saying she’s fleecing him. Sometimes this plays out while Otis is on the air. Frank appears behind Otis, retreating upstairs. Margot comes out snickering away. “Everything okay, Margot?” Otis says.

“Right as rain,” Margot says.

Frank’s on the phone to me later. He wants Margot’s quotes by late November. If everything goes according to plan, her book should make the bookshelves by Christmas. I wait until Margot’s show ends and we sit at the kitchen table. I’m recording everything on a little tape recorder. “What do you think of child psychiatrists?” I ask.

“Assholes.”

“Why’s that?”

“They’re in la-la land, Sam. They still think babies come from storks. Nothing but meatheads, the lot of them.”

“Care to expand on that, Margot?”

“You know what ADD stands for, Sam?”

“Attention Deficit Disorder.”

“No, it means A Dickhead Delinquent. These kids don’t need pills. They need a swift kick in the pants. Everything’s got some underlying cause with these child psychiatrists. Kids need discipline.”

“What if the kid really has ADD?”

“They all do, for God’s sake. Who doesn’t at that age?”

Bisquick swoops in on Otis for a nipple grab. “Frickin’ bird.”

“Give him a grape,” Margot says.

“I tried giving him a grape. He doesn’t give a shit about grapes anymore. Get him away from me.”

Margot picks up the foam finger and Bisquick goes for it. “There, you big sissy,” she says to Otis.

“He’s not grabbing your nipple. Why can’t we tape his beak?”

“For the same reason we don’t tape yours.”

Otis goes to the fridge. “What’s the story on the brownies, Sam?”

“Muller’s too busy, Otis. Riley’s pot is all used up, anyway. Max’s looking around for another source.”

“Where’s Max now?”

“Your guess is as good as ours.”

“We’re trying to work here, Otis,” Margot says. “Go fix the tap in the laundry room. I can’t sleep with that thing dripping away. It gives my bladder ideas. Where were we, Sam?”

“Something about dickhead delinquents.”