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“That is very nice of you, but not necessary. I mean, yes, kind, it’s been a crap day, but also, he offered to buy me a beer, not you. How ‘bout you give me the beer you brought me, I pay for the one he offered to buy me and the Coke. Seriously.” She pressed the card forward.
My eye caught the name. “You’re not Darren, ye said yer name was Blakely.”
She laughed, “Oh yeah, you see, that’s my husband’s name. My money is all on my phone, which is, of course, dead.”
I inserted the card intae my machine. “Yer husband — he good with ye usin’ his card?” I asked, just tae make conversation.
“He’s a dick, but yeah, of course he’s good with—”
I turned the screen around to show her. “Says here: declined.”
The blood rushed from her face.
“Shit, ye goin’ tae fall down?”
Naisha rushed around the bar tae push a stool behind her.
Her voice trembled, “Can you try it again, please?”
I ran the card again. “Nae, declined, got cash?”
She stared off intae space. “No. No cash. What kind of crazy person walks around with cash?”
Naisha laughed.
I said, “I do, I walk around with cash, one hundred percent for this reason — dead phone, declined card, the cabal is conspirin’ against ye.”
She exhaled, “God, are you some kind of conspiracy theorist?”
“Nae, tis common sense. Why would ye think I’m a conspiracy theorist?”
“You said ‘cabal’, you said ‘conspiring’.”
“I just as likely meant the fae cabal as anythin’, and tae protect yerself from cabals daena make ye a theorist, it makes ye smart. How ye goin’ tae book a room at the motel? The fine upstanding motel?”
She groaned and laid her head down on the bar. “I don’t know! I’ve got no phone, no money, no credit card.”
I joked, “What ye’re saying is ye’re a grifter tryin’ tae work me for money.”
“No! Not at all! I have a job, a nice house—”
Naisha interrupted, “Don’t you worry about Liam, he’s just shitting with you.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m a grifter, I’m not, I’m a fine upstanding—”
Naisha said, “Honey, he allows Big Bub tae come in here and drink, you don’t need to worry about his opinion on you, right Liam?”
“Truth, I am a terrible judge of character, as far as I can tell yer less a grifter and more likely a Woodshee. I hae tae be careful nae tae upset a Woodshee, they hae terrible tempers.”
“A Woodshee?”
“A woods fairy, they walk amongst us, ye ken, but they try tae pass as human.”
Naisha dried out a glass. “He’s trying to tell you there’s a twig in your hair.”
She groaned, patted her head, found the twig, and pulled it free. “Apparently I’m a terrible judge of character, too. Did my husband turn off my card on purpose? Do you think I still have a house?”
“Now why would he go and do somethin’ like that? Because ye’re a no money grifter?”
