Either that or a macho thing: Nichols playing the stoic, the man who could take a licking and not start bitching. Why else—now that the department had both a pot to piss in and a window to throw it out of—would he refuse to get himself a goddamn working air conditioner? The twelve-to-eight shift fit better with Ruth’s schedule, meant he could linger at the breakfast table the way she liked—weekend breakfasts had been marathon affairs in Cantwell’s house growing up, apparently, and for her domestic bliss started with re-creating the ritual. And it meant he could be privy to shit shows like this morning’s, play stepdad to the bundle of nerves and hormones that was Sherry Richards—and hey, Nichols wasn’t complaining, was happy to do his part, had been an equal partner in the decision to take her in. A no-brainer, considering the lack of options the girl had. But still, Jesus Christ. He wasn’t qualified for this. And two women in one house? Nichols was no goon, women were his equals and his betters—but goddamn, that was a lot of estrogen whipping around, a lot of emotional updrafts and downswings.
What do You think about The Devil's Bag Man (2015)?
