"I told you to stopcalling me that."
"I know, but I like it."She grins. "It suits your charming disposition."
"And I like sitting at home.Thatsuits my charming disposition."
"Look, you're going to become some social recluse. You're old before your time,Finn," she says without looking up from her cards. She’s concentrating on her cards so hard her forehead wrinkles.
"Really," I chortle. "I'm old before my time and yet..." I glance around at the geriatric patients."You are all butthurt over not winning Billy the Fish.Don't thinkIdidn't see the way you eyed that poor old lady."
She looks up and glares at the woman again. "You don't understand. She's the antichrist, I'm telling you. Doris thinks she's a devil worshipper. Margaret said so."Hope leans in close to me."Apparently,” she whispers, “she had away withMargaret'sfirst husband back in the day.” Smiling, she bounceshereyebrows.
''Oh my god..." I just stare at her, because is this really happening? "Queenie, you do realize you are getting all hot and bothered over the love affairs of people four times your age? Wait, don't tell me! On Wednesdays you and Doris have a round of curtain twitching, don't you?" I laugh at the thought of Hope and some old lady with their noses pressed to a window, staring out at theneighboursandgossiping. Fuck my life. Hope is something else...
She holdsup her finger as shedabs her pen over the three thousand fucking bingo boards in front of her. When she's done she looks up at me and lowers her finger. "No, Doris and I do happy hour on Wednesdays, actually." She folds her arms over chest, bobbing her head from side to side likesome shit outofthe Kardashiansor something.
A man in a motorized scooter whirs upto the table, his wheel nudging mychair."Where's Doris at?"He asks Hope.
"Aw, she's on a date."
The old man's eyes narrow. "With who?" There's an edge to his tone.
"Bobby."
"What awankstain." The man coughs. "She cango tohelltoo.Running around withBobby..."he mumbles, jerking atthehandles of his littlescooter.
"Aw,come onnowEddie," Hopesays. "Don't be allhurt over it."
Hehuffs and his motorhumsasheyanks the wheelto the left, pushingmy chairoutofthe way as hegoes. "What the..." My eyes trail over his motor and I see the bag of piss hung on the side. "Oh my god,what is this, afucking nursing home soap opera?"
"Viagra does wonders for an old peen, evidently. Doris says it's better now than ever." Hope smirks and a touch of acid hits the back of my throat at the thought of old wrinkly asses and saggy tits.
"This is exactly how I envisioned spending my Thursday night, talking about old men and their erectile dysfunction."
Another number comes crackling through the speakers and she dabs her pen over her boards again. She glances at my card, dabbing a square.
"Oh, bingo! Bingo! Say bingo, Finn!"
I lift a brow. "No."
She leans over the table, placing her palms flat on the table, her little stamper clasped underneath one hand. "Fucking say it," she says with a growl.
"I'm not encouraging this shit. It's not healthy."
She glares at me before stabbing me on the forehead with her pen. "I swear to god,Finnley.Say.Fucking.Bingo."
Iswatatherarm, grabbing her wrist. "You did notjustbingo stampmy face."
She lifts one perfectly plucked eyebrow."Sayit," she says on a snarl. She has issues. "I am going to go so ginger on your arse."
My nostrils flare. "Bingo," I whisper and her eyes flare.
She points at me, standing up. "Bingo! He said bingo!" Hell,shelookslike she's about to jump up on the seat and flash her damn tits. And I'd half expect her to have BINGOsharpiedacross them.Fuck my life.
"Bingo!" Someone else shouts.
Hope turns aroundandshelookslike she's about to stab someone. "Fuck you!"sheshouts,pointingin thatgeneraldirection.Deargod,sheisswearingatsomeoneinabingohall.Thesameoldwoman from earlierstandsup."Ohno,Opal,notthis time,” Hope snarls.“I willcutyou."
"Okaaay." I stand and grab Hope's shoulder, turning her towards me. "Is bingo getting a little much foryou?"Iask, tryingnot tolaugh. She's fucking crazy.
