“My dear!” The crazy lady who got me that cabin comes running outside, toward us.

I’m sitting in the in the car, shielding my face from the sun, and hoping she’ll have a room for us. There are at least six rooms in this house.

“Where have you been? You know, I’ve been calling you. Have you not been looking at your phone?” she asks.

Jacqueline starts to respond, but Marsha simply cuts her off. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. You’re here now,” she says. “We can finish the work today, no problem.”

Jacqueline stammers, “I actually didn’t come here to work. I—”

“Inside, inside!” she says. “We don’t have much time.”

I step out of the car and clear my throat. “She didn’t come here to work,” I say. “We came here to ask for a favor.”

Marsha stops near the door and squints. “It’s you!” she exclaims.

“It’s me,” I say.

“And… Jacqueline?” Her face contorts. “This is the hunk you were talking about? The man who knocked you up?”

Jacqueline sighs and turns red. “I, uh, wouldn’t use those exact terms, but I guess so,” she says.

“Something has happened, hasn’t it? You two don’t look so happy,” she says. She waves her hands forward for us to follow her. “To the wine cellar. Come, now.”

I look at Jacqueline and she just shrugs. We both walk inside to a gaudy home. I whisper, “I can’t read this woman at all. Is everything cool?”

“Just drink her wine and we’ll be fine,” she says, smiling.

Our footsteps echo off of the giant walls. We walk down a set of stairs, into the barrel-shaped wine cellar. “You’re new to this home, so it’s your pick,” she says to me.

I look at the bottles in front of me. “There are at least one hundred bottles in here,” I say. “I don’t know a thing about wine.”

“No. There are five hundred and thirty seven bottles and each offers a unique registry of flavor and passion,” she says. “You’d be wise, however to go with this one right here.”

“A fine choice,” Jacqueline adds, with a smile.

“Whatever works for you,” I say. “That one it is.”

“Great,” she says.

We follow her back upstairs and finish our tour at the living room. She pours the wine in the kitchen.

“So she’s a whino or something?” I ask.

“It might be better not to put a label on it,” she says. “Let’s just say that she’s eccentric.”

“Eccentric. Right,” I mutter.

She comes back into the living room with three wine glasses, carefully balanced in her elderly hands. “Here we are,” she says. “Now, tell me what’s on your mind. Who are you running from and did anyone see you come here?”

She walks toward the window and looks out, making sure we weren’t followed.

“It’s nothing like that,” Jacqueline explains. “You know who Lawrence is, right?”

“As far as I know, he’s your… boyfriend? But what does that mean to an old woman like me? Relationships are so weird these days,” she says.

“Didn’t you talk to the reporter the other day?” I ask her.

“I knew they were putting my name on TV again. I don’t care why these days,” she says.

“Keeping the story short, I’m a pro hockey player who left the league and angered a lot of fans. Right now, I’m trying to get back to the game, but there are obstacles,” I say.

“Obstacles?” she asks.

“Yeah, like the league itself. They’re not exactly thrilled I left in the first place. There’s a big media battle around me right now and the fans are going wild, and not in a good way. I don’t have access to my account and I don’t want to put the burden on Jacqueline, so getting a hotel is out of the question,” I say. “So I guess I’m just hoping you’ll let us crash in one of your rooms here. I can return the favor to you if this all works out. Although, I’m not sure if it will.”

Jacqueline’s eyes widen. “It will work out,” she says. “We just need some time.” She pinches my leg.

“How much time?” Marsha eyes us both, very carefully. “You’re not after my money, are you?”

“I wouldn’t dream of robbing you, Marsha. You’re like family at this point. We’d be here a few days at the most,” Jacqueline says. “We just want to get away from the screaming fans. Plus, we’ve got George here. I don’t want him around all of the commotion.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing. We’re practically family,” she says. She paces around the room, thinking to herself. “But I’m not very fond of my family. They’re very angry people.”

“We’re not angry,” Jacqueline says. “Right, Lawrence?”

“I just want a bed to sleep in. That’s it. You won’t even see me if you don’t want to,” I say.

She eyes me up and down. “Well, I’d like to see you more than I’d like to see her,” she says, smirking.

“Uh…” I shift in my boots.

“A joke! I’m too old for that kind of thing now, but back in my day, I’d be all over you,” she says.

“Okay,” I mutter.

I’m not sure if I’d rather be around the screaming fans or not. One thing is for sure: she’s definitely giving me the creeps right now.

“You may stay,” she says.

“Really? You mean it?” Jacqueline asks, excitedly.

“Yes. But on one condition,” she says.

“Anything!” Jacqueline exclaims.

“You give them hell,” she says.

I laugh out of surprise. “I’ll give them something worse than hell,” I say.

Jacqueline gets all cute and excited. “I’ll stick my heel up their—” She stops herself and blushes. “Well, I can’t say it in front of the child.”

“I admire the enthusiasm,” she says. “It makes me feel like I still have a purpose, even if it’s a small one. I was once in love, like you two. I know how real that feels.”

Jacqueline creases her brow. “I thought you hated your ex-husband,” she says.

“I talk a lot of trash, dear. You know that I’ve always been one to speak my mind. I’m about as ruthless as they come for old women. Carl was gentle. He was caring. He was wild in bed.”

She winks and continues, “But then when Carl died, I felt as if he left me here as a punishment. I know that’s crazy. It wasn’t his fault. I guess I just went into a state of shock and never broke out of it.”

“Marsha, I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” Jacqueline says.

Tears fall from her eyelids. She drinks some more wine to comfort herself. “So, I fell into money. It’s the bane of my existence. I don’t have people anymore. I just have things,” she says.

“You have us,” I say, but it feels sort of wrong to lie just to make someone feel better.

“You are kind,” she says to Jacqueline. “Even during times of great struggle. Anyway, I’m not going to keep you guys lingering with my sob story. Things are good, generally speaking. I’ll, uh, show you to your room.”

“I’m here for you, Marsha. Whenever you need,” Jacqueline says, before we head upstairs.

Jacqueline grabs my hand as we walk, squeezing hard. I kiss her shoulder when we can finally sit down.

I say, “What a few days, huh?”

“Yeah,” she says, a tiny bit melancholy. Then, she holds George up in the air. He spits up a little, dripping down his onesy. A little splashes onto her cheek. She frowns.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” she says.

“You know, even with baby puke on your cheek, I still want to fuck the life out of you,” I say.

She runs the water against her hands and laughs.

“How bad?” she asks.

I smirk. “Come feel.”

She walks over and puts her legs over my pelvis. She straddles my cock, teasing me to the core. When she runs her tongue against my earlobe, I can barely hold back the urge to tear her apart.

My phone rings right at that moment. She slides her ass down and jumps off the bed.

“Another day,” she sings.

“No,” I groan.

“You know you have to answer that call,” she says.

“No I don’t.” I look at the phone. It’s Goldstein calling me. “Fuck, I do.”

“Answer it,” she says, waiting for me.

I reluctantly answer the phone. “It’s Lawrence.”

“Brace yourself,” he says. “I’ve got some news.”