A/N: I forgot to mention this in the first round of notes, but this story has period typical language & heteronormative/patriarchal attitudes. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
September 1926
"Teresa, you have to keep your foot steady so you don't make the car jerk. Just stay calm." As he promised, Sam started teaching her to drive.
During their first driving lesson, he taught her about the pedals and shifting gears. That part was easy. This keeping it steady business seemed much more a challenge.
"Ok, I can do this."
"I know you can!" He squeezed the hand he still held over hers to make sure she shifted properly.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before trying again. Without thinking, she started driving. She even managed to shift before Sam beat her to it.
"There you go, Teresa. Good! I'm going to let go. You ready for that?"
She swallowed thickly. "I think so." He lifted his hand off of hers, placing it on her back. And she still shifted and kept the car steady!
Sam laughed as he rubbed her back. "Good job, Teresa! You're a quick study!"
She smiled. "Thank you!" Sam was always patient and reassuring. It helped a lot. Any time her papa tried to teach her something, if she didn't pick it up immediately, she was no good. It was nice to hear someone tell her she did something well.
The next night, he stopped her before getting in the car. "Why dont you drive starting out?"
Once they were in the car, she felt her nerves set in. He moved a little closer to the middle of the seat just like in their practices. She looked at him. "Are you sure about this?"
"Sweetheart, you're doing very well in your practice. The only way you get better is more practice. You can do this, and besides, I'm here for you."
She nodded, starting the car and driving off. He kept his hand over hers on the gear shift, occasionally helping her out. Otherwise, she drove the four hours out to the rendezvous point by herself! When they arrived, he congratulated her for making her first run.
Working for Sam was smooth so far. She would change for work as soon as she arrived each day. Like he told her, they went out twice a week for shipments. The other two nights a week she spent at the bar doing whatever needed done. Though, usually the boys handled everything. Whenever they didn't have a shipment, Sam usually had her sit with him in case she needed to be sent on an errand, but he never needed her to do anything. He even told her that she could bring a book if she wanted. He would pay her all the same.
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Fight night. Everyone stayed as quiet as they could so they could all listen on the radio. Sam was sitting right next to the radio. When he saw her standing near the bar with her lemon water (her favorite indulgence), he shook the shoulders of the young man next to him and tilted his head for him to get up. He motioned for her to come sit next to him.
She whispered to Sam. "Who do you think will win?"
Before he could answer, Luther Wainwright, a guy she went to school with, answered. "Dempsey obviously. He wins every title he defends! Who invited a girl to the fight?"
He nudged her shoulder and she smiled because he was teasing her, just like their school days. Her mama had told her once that sometimes it meant a boy likes you, but he never did come around to ask about her after she left school. She was going to answer, but Sam cut in with a look of anger in his eyes. "Better question is who invited you here? You either apologize to Miss Lisbon and watch your tone, or you can settle up and leave right now, Wainwright."
He rolled his eyes. "Teresa, I didn't mean anything bad."
"It's ok. I know you didn't."
"It's Miss Lisbon to you, and I didn't hear you apologize to her. You show her respect or you can get out now."
She looked at Sam in confusion. He looked at Luther with anger in his eyes. She had never seen him like that before. She didn't understand why he was giving Luther such a hard time; he was just kidding around.
"I'm sorry, Miss Lisbon."
"Good. You can get out of my sight now."
Luther gave her a questioning look before turning and walking away. She once again turned her gaze to Sam.
"I've got money on Dempsey. He's a seasoned fighter with a good record. He's carried the title for years." He just answered her question like all of that with Luther hadn't just taken place. "Do you know much about fighting?"
"Yes, the boys like it, so we follow it quite a bit. I'm sorry, but what was all of that about? He didn't do anything wrong. Please don't kick Luther out on my account."
"It wouldn't be on your account. No one gets to talk to you like that. Who do you favor?"
She blinked a few times. She'd seen customers cussing and spitting at the guys, and he never said anything. She wondered why he was so in an uproar over Luther, but the look on his face told her he was done talking about it. "Tunney. He's a dark horse of sorts because he's got a good record and Dempsey is becoming old news."
He smirked. "That's a brave choice. You didn't put money down on that, did you?"
"No. I don't make bets." Well, not only was gambling a questionable moral choice and maybe illegal, but she never had money to just lose over a sports hunch.
He chuckled as he reached into his pocket. "Tonight you will." He motioned to the man next to him. "Mark, put Miss Lisbon down for Tunney. Here is $10."
"Really?"
"Mr. Bosco…"
"Oh come on! We're not doing that again! It's Sam! Put her down for Tunney. A little money in the game is the proper way to enjoy a fight." She was a little taken aback to protest. He'd just yelled at Luther for being improper, and he called her Miss Lisbon. Yet, here they were, surrounded by so many people and he wanted her to address him improperly!
They listened intently as the fight progressed. By the end of the night, she was $200 richer when Tunney KO'd Dempsey. Of course, most of the men were very upset as they'd lost money, so they continued to drink.
"It's going to get rowdy in here. Let's go to the front of the house." She nodded and followed him out.
As she sat down on the red sofa in his parlor, he placed a record in the victrola before sitting next to her and loosening his neck tie. "Did you have fun winning your money?"
She shrugged. "I didn't do anything! And really, it's your money!"
She tried to hand him the earnings, but he held her hand instead. "No. It's your money. I made the bet in your name. I guess next time, I should ask you before placing any bet at all!"
She smiled. "I reckon I can drop a larger payment on the house this week. It's not like the bank will let me start an account."
"I wouldn't be so worried about that. Never trust the banks! Why let someone else hold your money? It's gotta be a scam." He grinned at her and she smiled back at him. "You're paying for the house?"
She closed her eyes. She wished she hadn't said anything. "I'm sorry. I spoke out of turn about family matters."
"That's ok. Anything you tell me stays here between us like always. Tom still owes on the house?"
"Yes, but with my wages…"
"You don't have to lie to me. I know you're pulling all of the expenses and running the entire household."
She just looked away. She refused to say a bad word about her papa. He placed his hand on her cheek and turned her face toward him. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. "You're so brave, sweetheart. I know you have pride and you take on so much responsibility for a young woman. I want you to take care of yourself. I—"
Wayne came running into the parlor. "Mr. Bosco, we have a situation out back."
He exhaled sharply. "It better be something you couldn't handle on your own."
The tall man with the dark hair swallowed thickly. "It is, sir. We need the police to clear us out before there's too much damage."
"Shit. Well, I'll be out there. Send Mike to Tom McAllister's. We want his boys here."
She spoke out. "Boss, I can go if you need to send someone."
He looked stricken as he turned back to her. "Teresa, you stay right here. I don't want you outside alone. Everything will be fine. Just some rowdy bastards thinking they're going to have their own version of Dempsey vs. Tunney tonight."
"I have three brothers. I can help."
He raised his voice slightly. "You can help by staying right here, so I don't have to worry about you being in danger. End of discussion."
He was a fair and kind boss, but he was hard to read sometimes. He never wanted her to do anything. It was almost like she earned wages just for sitting around and looking pretty or something. She could help get people outside or go get the cops. She may be the only girl there, but she wasn't totally worthless! However, he used that voice he had when he didn't want to hear anything else on a subject. Instead of saying anything else, she sat there with her book as they went to break up the fights.
A/N 2: Historical point: The fight refers to the September 1926 boxing title fight between Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunney. It was the first title match Dempsey lost defending.
