“Did you have any idea?”  Sister Thelma asked.

“About which part?” Lucinda replied.

Occasionally the two women get together over at the Dairy Twin early in the morning, before the usual crowd wanders in.  Sister Thelma enjoys being able to talk woman-to-woman, without the testosterone fueled automotive observations volunteered by the boys at the Grounds for Divorce.  Lucinda likes for someone else to be pouring the Folgers for a change.  Delgado handles things at the GFD till she gets back.

“The fact that Mason McCullough and Dharma Drury were doing the Devil’s Dance!” Sister Thelma clarified.

“That part I was aware of.  She occasionally comes to me for some advice and spiritual guidance.”  Lucinda admitted.  As the words tumbled off her lips, both women saw the irony, but neither commented on it.

“How much of the last three chapters is true, do you think?” Sister Thelma asked.  She seemed to have a lot of questions.

“Probably about the same amount as the first ten, if I was to guess.”  Lucinda took a sip of her coffee.  “Thing is, Mason and Perry are both dead.  Franklin Danbury can’t say anything to anybody about it due to the whole attorney-client thing, not that he would anyway.  We may never know any of the other details.”

“I thought the whole thing was over at the end of Chapter 10.  The added three chapters threw me for a loop.”  Sister Thelma seemed to be thinking about What Drives Eileen more than usual.  “Do you think there will be any more chapters in the future?”

“Hard to say.  You never know.”  Lucinda didn’t say anything else while Nellie refilled their styrofoam cups from a fresh pot.  Then, “I wasn’t expecting the last three.  But there were a lot of unanswered questions.  I mean what exactly was the relationship between Dharma and Mason?  Did Eileen Parker actually pay to have the guy knocked off in St. Jo, Missouri who’d she’d had an affair with without knowing he was married?  Did they ever actually find a body out at the ol’ place Eileen grew up?  It all makes you wonder.”

By then the sun had come up enough to where it was shining right through the front window of the Dairy Twin and nearly blinding both women sitting in the booth.  Both of them reached into their respective purses and pulled out sunglasses and slid them on.  It made them each look mysterious.  Or like they were on a clandestine mission of some sort.

A few minutes later Mayor Goodman walked in.  He was taken aback when he saw the two females in the front booth.  He seemed embarrassed to be seen in the Dairy Twin.  “Morning ladies,” he said as he nodded their way.  Looking at Lucinda, he added, “I have to spread the business around to ALL my constituents.”  He looked sheepish.  

Truth be told, Lucinda wished the mayor would spend all of his time at the Dairy Twin.  She thought he was smarmy, lacked any character, and was bad for business.  “I understand, Mayor,” she replied.  “It’s always good to see you, bless your heart.”

The mayor slipped away, shaking hands with the few other people who were in the Dairy Twin that early and making his way to the counter to give Nellie his order.  “It wouldn’t hurt for him to back away from the breakfast tacos for a while.  The man’s a walking heart attack,” Sister Thelma said.

“We should be so lucky,” Lucinda replied.  Sister Thelma tried not to laugh.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun shining in through the window, the smell of the hot coffee wafting up from the styrofoam cups, each lost in their own thoughts.

Eventually, Sister Thelma broke the silence.  “You know, it seems like there’s a whole different Fort Stockton we don’t even know about.  One below the surface.  One that most people can’t see.”

“Or don’t want to,” Lucinda added.

As Lucinda finished her thought, they both looked out the window, squinting at the sun.  A metallic blue 1977 Plymouth Gran Fury Brougham pulled up in front and parked right in between Thelma’s Bronco and Lucinda’s Wagoneer.  Dharma Drury got out of the car and glanced back at her reflection in the driver’s side window, adjusting her hair just slightly.  Once inside the Dairy Twin, she slid into the booth next to Lucinda.

“Good morning, ladies.  Sorry I’m late.”

Dharma slid into the booth next to Sister Thelma.  Nellie brought her a coffee, sugar jar which she’d just filled up, and a fairly clean spoon.  The three women talked about the unintended consequences of growing up in a southern patriarchal society that tended to have a dim view of women’s equality and the stifling effect that had on the ability to fully live life to its fullest.  They talked about the lack of leadership roles for women in the workplace.  Dharma noted, “Women have to do twice the work to get half the pay in this male dominated society we live in.”  The other two nodded.

Twenty minutes later, the three women were distracted by the sun glinting off the excessive chrome of a flame-painted Cadillac as Shannon Hudspeth pulled into the parking lot, gravel flying.  They hadn’t expected to see her, but made a spot for her when she walked in.  Niceties were exchanged, and then the conversation picked up where it had left off.

“Don’t even get me started on workplace discrimination and inequities,” Shannon said.  By the time they got to the imbalance of unpaid care workers face and the social norms and cultural practices that are blatantly discriminatory towards women, but readily accepted without so much as a thought, the four of them were pretty worked up.  They hadn’t even brought up food insecurity, being the primary adult responsible for raising the children or not having the right to have full control of decisions that affect their own healthcare or bodies.  

When they got to how men and women each view sex so differently, Shannon mumbled, “You’ve found the center of my pain.”  It took her a moment to sort her thoughts.  “Did Eileen Parker become someone else for a reason?  Hell yes, she did.  She became Parker McHale in order to exact the revenge she’d been looking for since childhood,” Shannon said.

Lucinda nodded.  “By the time she had the sorry bastard in St. Jo, Missouri killed she had a sliver of the power a man in her position would have had, but she knew exactly what to do with it,” she said.  “And by that time, the cheater’s wife had to have known what a lousy husband he was.  Probably figured it would be easier to raise those two kids alone rather than dealing with that sorry excuse for a human husband she was stuck with.”

“But note, if you will,” Sister Thelma pointed out, “that Eileen still took the time and precautions to provide for those children and the widow that was left behind by providing the funds for them to live comfortably while no longer being under the thumb of the philanderer that wound up in the dumpster behind the Shamrock Motel.  I mean, I can’t condone murder.  But still….”

“Seems only logical.”  Lucinda thought for a bit.  “That the widow and kids would be paid off with the ill-gotten gains from a corrupt police system that had misplaced the evidence, or allowed it to be pilfered, thirty years earlier?  Seems like something only someone who was adept at writing murder mysteries could have ever pulled off. So fitting.”

“Still,” Shannon Hudspeth contemplated, “I always kind of did like Mason McCullough.”

“Tell me about it,” Dharma Drury noted.

Meanwhile, over at the Rusty Hammer Hardware Store, there was a fairly large group of guys gathered around the nail bin. “Lucinda there yet?” AngusHopper asked.

“Nope. Still just Delgado,” CaptNemo replied. They’d been keeping their eye on the Grounds for Divorce waiting for Lucinda’s Wagoneer to show up. It’s not like they go there for the Folgers.

“What did you think of the last three chapters?” Rusty asked.

“Eileen Parker sure was a looker,” Angus said. Everyone else just nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind being tied to her headboard,” New Guy said.

It was awkward.