Chapter 8: A Grudge Fuck

At dinner, things were tense. In spite of understanding Tom’s dilemma, Iris felt a lot of resentment. It was irrational she knew, but it was there. It grew stronger when they went up to their bedroom. Obviously, Tom copped to her feelings and did not even try to kiss her Good Night, let alone cuddle with her. Somehow, this irked her even more.

They lay there, both on their backs and staring up at the ceiling.

“You’re going to be pissed off at me for quite some time,” Tom sighed. It was a statement, not a question.

Iris exhaled. “I know I shouldn’t, but ... It’s so messed up. Did Pete brief you about our telephone call?”

“Yeah. It would be good for both of us. We can do a good job for you. We won’t even need the blister packaging machines for that.” From her intake of breath it became clear right away that she did not see the humor. “Sorry, it sounded funnier in my head.”

“Tom, this day was a disaster for me!”

“But from what I heard you handled it great.”

“You heard, huh? Pete?”

“Yeah. He said you did a great appeasement job. He also said you’d can Hiram?”

“Sorry, no ... Oh, to Hell with it! Hiram’s gone. Moran turned against him and now even Tilda. I’m taking over production on an interim basis. Not down to the line management level, but to sort things out. We’ll modernize too. I told Moran to go along or I’d block his contract renewal next year. He caved.”

“Wow! Nice going. So it’s a good thing I left.”

“How’s that?”

“Think! Would Tilda agree to Hiram’s firing if I were around as potential successor?”

“You’d be surprised. She even said something remotely nice about you today.”

“Oh, shit! The end of world must be near.”

“Well, not quite. She really wants Maggie in the loop I can tell. So, will your bosses have my knees busted?”

Tom shrugged. “I don’t think it’s you they’re after. Pete knows enough about Villier to point out the right people. I told you, you did the right things today. Pete won’t put you over the barrel either. He’s thinking long-term business.”

“I just hope this won’t come back to bite me.” She exhaled again. “This is so stupid! If we’d kept Palmer Street, none of this would have happened.”

“Yeah, but we would still live parallel lives, and I would still be the whipping boy for all of you.”

“You’re still mad about that, huh?”

“I just hated it. Mostly I hated the distance between us. At least we can find the time now to have a fight and be mad at each other.”

Against her mood, Iris giggled. “There is that. Umh, Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you in the mood for make-up sex?”

“Are you ready to kiss and make up?”

Iris grinned in the dark. “Come to think of it, no. How about grudge fucking? Can you do that?”

“I don’t hold a grudge anymore,” Tom reminded her.

“Oh, yeah, but I do. That means I get to be on top.”

———

Hiram Gunderson was sweating profusely. The interrogation room was dingy and windowless. What little air came out of the single duct in the ceiling was stale too. While he was not shackled to the table, he felt uncomfortable on the plain hard plastic chair and looking at the wrong side of a one-way mirror. The detectives had picked him up at the third hole, in front of three other members, just as he was about to tee off. At least they had not cuffed him, but they read him his rights as if he were a criminal.

Damn Moran! Four weeks ago, Gunderson had lobbied for new blister packaging units and Moran had shot him down. Then the smug shit mentioned that the machines in the Palmer Street plant were as good as new, and wasn’t it a pity that this asshole Verkade got to use them now?

To Gunderson, that sounded like a sweet idea. The new owners were mobsters and Catholics too, and Tom Verkade would be saddled with the old machines. Damn! He’d forgotten the serial numbers in the inventory list. He told the Kellerman people to do the exchange and to swap the inventory stickers. Of course, they did as told. Without Gunderson, Kellerman would be out of a very lucrative contract. They would keep their mouths shut too if they knew what was good for them.