Page 53 of Statler

Eliza was momentarily confused.

She’d always, for her entire life, been told that women were…secondary creatures; only around to provide what they could for the men of the world. Even in competition with Holden with their various pastimes—like cornhole and darts—Eliza had, more often than not, thrown a match so he could win because he’d been known to sulk.

Still, she’d never once considered Holden a misogynist—at least not compared to her father and a lot of the men working in and around the factory—but thinking on it after his death, his unspoken need to triumph in their gaming endeavors had been a small warning sign she’d ignored. He had, once they were married, always demanded to be in charge of the larger decisions they’d made as a couple. For her own safety, he’d said. Which had more often than not, left her confused.

But women in Liminal really were second class citizens.

Even Eliza’s mother had been oppressed, despite her hidden strengths. She’d done her charity work, which had been considered “appropriate”, and only made her wishes known—extremely judiciously—when she felt there was a lot at stake.

It wasn’t until after Holden and her mother’s deaths—when Eliza began hanging out with Granny—that she’d gotten an earful of what “bullshit” the male hierarchy in town really was.

And now…?

What, exactly, was Statler asking?

Was he truly curious, or was he baiting her to see if she was one of those uppity, presumptuous females?

She bit the inside of her cheek. If she revealed to Statler that she no longer believed women had to take a back seat to men, would he write her off as a bitch and walk away?

Eliza didn’t want that to happen. At least not so soon after meeting him. So, she weighed her words, carefully.

“I don’t, um, really think the fish give a fig who catches them since they’re going to be slated for the frying pan either way. But I realize that guys are often more proficient regarding physical endeavors. I must have just gotten lucky tonight. I’m sure you’re the better fisherman.”

Statler came to his feet and scowled.

Eliza braced.

Here it comes.

“You don’t have to do that,” Statler admonished, shaking his head.

“Do what?” she asked, not quite sure how to navigate the conversation.

“Put yourself in a secondary position to me.” He sighed. “Eliza, I’m a big boy. I can take it when a female beats my ass. My sister, Petula, does it all the time, and actually executes a happy-dance when she does, to let everyone who’s watching know she’s bested me.”

“Oh,” Eliza replied, because this was something new to her.

What kind of woman was Petula to be so bold?

Sure, Granny had told Eliza that she’d enjoyed an equal say in things when her husband had been alive, but Eliza had never seen proof of that, first hand.

“And you’ve met Blue,” Statler continued, not knowing where Eliza’s thoughts had gone. “Do you think she’s a pushover?”

“Uh…no?” Eliza dared.

“Damned right she isn’t,” Statler snorted. “She’s been known to chew me out and kick my ass any number of times when I’m being a complete idiot.”

And that, right there, was reason number…one hundred and seven, as to why she’d fallen for Statler; that he could so casually admit to being a dope sometimes.

“Oh.”

Statler’s expression changed then; his eyes narrowing. “What kind of men do you work with, anyway?” he asked. “Is your boss a hard-ass who likes to dictate your every move?”

Eliza knew Statler wasn’t blind. He’d probably already noted the meek face she’d worn last week around her patriarch.

Crap. Soon, she was going to have to tell Stat that William was her father, and she wasn’t looking forward to that. Eliza would gladly put it off for as long as possible.

She attempted to explain.