A murmur went around the restaurant. Van Cleve wrenched his napkin from his collar. He took a step toward her, his finger raised. “You listen here, O’Hare. You want to be very careful before you start throwing accusations around. You’ve caused enough trouble—”
But Margery squared up to him. “I’ve caused trouble? Says the man who shot my dog? Who knocked two teeth right out of his daughter-in-law’s head? Your flood almost drowned me, and Sophia and William! They had near on nothing to start with and now they got less! You would have drowned three little girls if my girls hadn’t got there to save them! And you swagger around here pretending like it’s nothing to do with you? You want arresting!”
Sven appeared behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder but she was in full flow and shook him off. “Men die because you prize dollars over safety! You trick people into signing away their own houses before they understand what they’ve done! You destroy lives! Your mine is a menace! You are a menace!”
“That’s enough.” Sven now had his forearm around Margery’s collarbone and was pulling her backward, even as she pointed at Van Cleve, still yelling. “C’mon. Time to go outside.”
“Yes! Thank you, Gustavsson! Take her outside!”
“You act like you’re the goddamn Almighty! Like the law doesn’t count for you! But I’m watching you, Van Cleve. For as long as I have breath in my lungs, I’ll tell the truth about you and—”
“Enough.”
The air in the room seemed to have disappeared into a vacuum as Sven steered her, still struggling, out of the restaurant door. Through its glass panel she could be seen hollering at him in the road, her arms flailing as she tried to free herself.
Van Cleve glanced around and sat back down. The other diners were still staring.
“The O’Hares, huh!” he said, too loudly, tucking his napkin back in. “Never know what that family’s going to get up to next.”
Bennett’s eyes flickered from his plate and back down again.
“Gustavsson’s sound. He knows. Oh, yes. And that girl out there is the craziest of the lot of them, right? . . . Right?” Van Cleve’s smile wavered a little until people started to drift back to their food. He let out a breath and motioned to the waitress. “Molly? Sweetheart? Could you—uh—get me a fresh plate of chicken, please? Thank you kindly.”
Molly pulled a face. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Van Cleve. The last of it just went out.” She eyed his plate, wincing slightly. “I have some soup and a couple of biscuits I could warm up for you?”
“Here. Have mine.” Bennett pushed his untouched meal toward his father.
Van Cleve ripped his napkin out of his collar. “Lost my appetite. I’ll get Gustavsson a drink and we’ll head home.”
He glanced through the door to where the younger man still stood outside with the O’Hare girl. “He’ll be in once he’s seen her off.” He was aware of a vague sense of disappointment that it hadn’t been his own son who had stood to push the girl out.
But the strangest thing: as O’Hare continued to yell and gesticulate outside, Gustavsson, rather than dusting off his hands and returning to the restaurant, took a step forward, his forehead lowered toward Margery O’Hare’s.
As Van Cleve watched, frowning, Margery’s hands briefly covered her face and both of them stood very still. And then, clear as anything in the moonlight, Sven Gustavsson placed a protective hand on the swell of O’Hare’s belly, waiting until she looked up at him, and covered it gently with her own, before he kissed her.
* * *
• • •
Exactly how much trouble do you want to get yourself into?”
Margery pushed at Sven blindly, trying to free herself, but he held tight to her upper arms.
“You didn’t see it, Sven! Thousands of gallons of his poison! And him acting like it’s just the river, and William and Sophia’s house ruined, and all the land and water round Monarch Creek destroyed for I don’t know how long.”
“I don’t doubt it, Marge, but going at him in front of a restaurant full of people isn’t going to help anything.”
“He should be shamed! He thinks he can get away with anything! And don’t you dare pull me out of there like I’m a—a badly trained dog!” She pushed hard with both hands, finally breaking his grip, and he lifted his palms.