"Maybe Mister Gus just don't like women, is that it?" Christ no! She comes around the desk, scaring both the bejesus and the regular-Jesus out of him: "Then let's you and me work something out. My landlord don't mind if a get a little behind in my rent..." And wow because that is not what he was going for. Just as he's begging to terminate this convo, and she's screaming, "There may be snow on the mountaintop, but there's fire in the valley!" Tara walks in. "This white devil tried to sexual harass me!" That would be that demon talking, I think. "I'm gonna sue his narrow ass!" Everybody stares; he tries to make good, but no. No ritual is empty.
Tara goggles, almost crying: "What are you doing here?" Um, duh. What she's trying to do is borrow money, because of her unfortunate habit of having a daughter who wants her to live with a demon all up inside her. "I can feel it in me right now! Nobody believes me!" Shaking, jerking. "I do not want to live like this no more!" Tara is scared to death, close to tears. So much closer to her own initiation. "I can't!" Tara's lips shake, with love and something more. She walks her mother back home, like a crooked house, like a broken building. "I gotta go lay down," Lettie Mae says. "That demon's gnawing at me something awful." Tara sends her to drink and turns on the sink so she won't hear the tickling sound of a box of Brillo pads and the cash she keeps hidden there, like the child of some kind of damned alcoholic.