Read an excerpt from Turning Trixie, a novel-in-progress by Robb Grindstaff
Trixie, a single mom and the small town’s only prostitute, knows the winning lottery ticket in her purse is about to change her life. Trouble starts when she decides the rest of the town needs changing too.
Tyler let his bike fall to the dirt and ran to the house. He knew how to ride, but when he really wanted to get somewhere in a hurry, running was faster. And this was a good time for a hurry.
After all, it wasn’t every day a white Cadillac turned off the gravel road into their dirt driveway, leaving a spiral brown cloud spinning behind it. His legs flipped one in front of the other in a blur; his bare feet slapped the ground and left a miniature version of the car’s dust trail behind him. He wanted to see what manner of man would emerge from such a car. A lot of men pulled into their driveway, but none ever showed up in a car this fine before. He imagined an older man in a white suit with a white cowboy hat. Maybe a TV star or an oilman.
The door flung open. There behind the steering wheel sat his momma. The yellow-blonde hair she’d left with a few hours earlier, now dyed platinum, was piled into a tall, wavy mound and lacquered with enough hairspray to make it look as breakable as their Christmas vase.
“So, how do you like it?”
“It sure is big.” Tyler stared at the car.
Trixie glanced in the rearview mirror and pushed one wedge of hair back into place. “It’s not too big, is it?” She swung her legs out to show off new red boots, white jeans tucked in. “I always told you the Lord would provide.”
Tyler touched a finger to the pearl metallic door panel. “The Lord gave us this?”
“The Lord gave me the winning numbers for Powerball. Now go get some shoes on ’cause we’re going to town. Golden Corral’s got all-you-can-eat buffet.”
With his best Converses on but still untied, Tyler jumped in the driver’s side and slid across the white leather seat. He popped open the glove box, empty except for some paperwork and a Colt .45 with a pearl inlaid handle that matched the car’s paint.
Trixie bent over to see herself in the sideview mirror while she tamped her hair down with both hands.
“You sure this ain’t too big? I don’t want to be calling attention to ourselves just ’cause we’re millionaires now. Let’s say a little prayer and thank the good Lord for his bounty. Yes sir, my little man, our lives is about to change. Your momma’s gonna be on TV tonight.”