by Silla Webb
“What’s wrong?” I ask, stopping before we reach the side-by-side.
“It’s Pops.” He says cracking his knuckles.
He climbs in the ATV not willing to offer me any further explanation. We work our way back down the rugged mountain and Colton quickly straps the side-by-side down to the trailer while I help Heidi Jo change into dry clothes and buckle her in the back seat. He climbs in the cab, and roars the engine to life. I slide over closer to him, linking my arm in his trying to lend him my strength. Worry fills his eyes and heat radiates from his rigid body, his knuckles white with tension as he grips the steering wheel tightly. I don’t know what’s wrong, but whatever has happened has Colton waging a war within himself that has rendered him speechless.
Colton and Bill’s relationship has been strained to say the least over the last several months. From what I can tell the wedge between them began to grow after Drew Varney became Bill’s business partner. Bill has always been a gruff old man, but now he’s quiet and distant. Even Emma has expressed concern for him lately, but like Colton, Bill keeps his demons buried deep and deals with it in his own way.
When we get to the hospital we find Emma in the ER waiting room. Her face is pale with tear stains trailing down her cheeks. Colton squares his shoulders as he approaches her, and I swear in that moment he takes all of the emotions that are gripping him and slides them in his back pocket. He sees the pain and worry in his momma’s face and blankets her in his strength, pulling her into a tight embrace.
“Momma, what happened?” Colton asks Emma.
“He collapsed in the truck garage as they were working on one of the trucks. Doctor said it was a mild heart attack, so they’re gonna keep him overnight for observation and run a stress test in the mornin’.” She sighs sadly. I can only imagine how helpless she felt receiving that phone call, being all alone and having no one to turn to.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes son, just worried about your dad.” She says softly, wringing her hands together in her lap. He talks with her quietly for a few more minutes before standing to his feet and pulling her into a hug.
“I’m gonna take my girls home. I’ll be back in an hour to see him.”
Colton remains impassive and quiet on the drive home. He takes a quick shower before kissing me goodbye as he heads to the hospital to check on Bill. I know he’s worried about his dad, but I can only open my arms to him for comfort when he needs it. Although I hate to see the fierce emotions brewing in his dark brown eyes, I know he’ll deal with it in his own way.
I order pizza for dinner while Heidi Jo takes a shower. While we wait for the delivery guy, we enter a fierce competition of Just Dance 2014. Yeah, I’m six months pregnant and I’m shakin’ my ass like I’m seventeen again. She nearly takes the game until the final round when we dance to Limbo by Daddy Yankee. The site of my big belly bouncing around as I twist my ass doubles her over in laughter so hard that she’s rolling on the floor gripping her sides instead of dancing.
After we eat dinner, Heidi Jo asks if I’ll watch Frozen with her before she goes to bed. She is absolutely obsessed with this movie, singing the soundtrack loudly and reciting scenes verbatim. Honestly, if I hear Let it Go one more time, I may lose my shit. But I’ll do anything tonight to keep the worry for her papaw at bay. She doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong with Bill, because Colton felt no need to go into detail with her. But her little eyes are filled with concern.
I pop a bag of popcorn while she starts the movie, then settle on the couch with my kindle in hand. She lays in the floor on her belly, with her chin propped up on her hands while she watches the movie. Thunder rumbles in the distance and a flash of lightning brightens up the living room as the sound of rain begins to pelt the roof top. Heidi Jo jumps to her feet and hurries around the coffee table to climb on the couch, clutching my arm insecurely.
“Sweets, are you scared of storms?” I ask, covering her with my throw blanket. She nods silently, chewing on her thumb. “You don’t have anything to be scared of.” I whisper to her. Lightning crashes and a raging thunder rolls loudly as the house falls dark. Heidi Jo whimpers, burrowing her head under the blanket. “Hey, don’t panic.” I pat her on the leg, then reach for my cell phone. “Here, I’ll turn on the flashlight on my phone. Just sit still while I go get a candle from the kitchen.”
“Don’t leave me!” She cries, latching onto my arm as I stand up. She hangs onto my shirt sleeve as I go into the kitchen, digging candles and a flashlight out of the cabinet. Her feet shuffle slowly beside me and her tiny voice shakes with light mewls. I strategically place the candles on the coffee table, lighting them with matches. As the soft flames flicker about the room, Heidi Jo’s tensions resolve. She climbs up on the couch and releases a deep breath, her small shoulders dropping as she relaxes. I take my cell phone from her hand, placing it on the table to reserve the battery just in case Colton tries to call. Sitting down beside her on the couch, I pull her close to me, tucking her under my arm.
“Wanna share secrets?” I ask her quietly and she nods. “Okay, I’ll go first. I’m terrified of storms, too.” She turns her head to look up at me, a confused look furrowing her tiny eyebrows. “When I was little, I used to climb in my sister’s bed anytime it would storm. She would tell me stories until I fell asleep.”
“Daddy always lets me sleep with him when it storms. I hope he gets home soon.” Her small voice shakes fearfully as her eyes dart around the pitch black room.
“You can sleep in your daddy’s bed with me tonight, then when he gets home, I’ll move to the couch. So what’s your secret?”
“I don’t like pickles.”
“That’s not much of a secret, sweets.” I laugh, tickling her side. She inhales deeply, plucking at the throw blanket, stewing over whatever hangs on her lip. Judging by her silence and shaky breaths, I’m guessing she’s worried about what she wants to share.
“Okay, you win,” she huffs. “I’m nervous to be a big sister.” She whispers, her voice cracking with tension.
“I can understand that, Heidi Jo. I’m nervous to become a momma. But we’ll do it together, okay?”
She sighs heavily and the look in her eyes tells me that she’s thinking about what she wants to say next. Just like her daddy, she bottles it up. “Carly Jo, am I bad for bein’ jealous of my little sister already?”
“No, I don’t think so. You’re used to being an only child and so many things are changing. Change is a very scary thing, sweets. But you’re gonna make a great big sister.”
She lets my words soak for a minute before speaking again. “I-I just want a momma. It’s not really fair that she gets you for a momma.”
The air escapes my lungs. Instead of panic consuming me like it did the first time she ever asked me if I’d be her momma one day, a fulfillment washes over me and my heart swells with joy. I never dreamed that a little girl could touch my heart the way Heidi Jo has. She had an immediate attachment to me once we met and has clung to my side ever since. It’s ironic that the secret Colton hid from me all those years ago, the secret that stripped us of seven years of our life together, is the very little lady who encompasses my heart now. But everything happens for a reason and I couldn’t be more blessed to have Heidi Jo in my life. She is the embodiment of spunk with a sassy attitude that reminds me of myself as a little girl.
“Sweets, I could never replace your momma. But I’ll always, always be here for you, Heidi Jo. I love you like you are my own little girl.”
She latches her arms around my neck and hugs me as strong as her little arms can squeeze me. “I want you to be my momma, Carly Jo.” She glances down at my belly with her eyes as wide as saucers. “Uhm, what was that?” She asks sitting back on her heels.
I cup her hand over my stomach right where the little monkey is rolling around at. “That, baby girl is your little sister kicking you. Do you feel her?” Her eyes light up with a glistening sheen of tears.
“That is so sweet!” She sq
ueals as she presses her face against my belly. She begins to hum quietly as she rubs my belly. This little girl never ceases to amaze me with her gentle heart and her strength of steel. I prop my feet up on the coffee table and brush Heidi Jo’s hair back out of her face, as she hums a lullaby to her baby sister. When her humming stops, I scoot her from my lap and cover her up with the throw blanket before blowing the candles out. When I sit back down, she latches her hand around my wrist and whispers, “Night momma, I love you.”
My heart stills.
I hate hospitals. Death lurks in the dark corners ready to snatch its next victim. The only good experience I’ve had in a hospital was when Heidi Jo was born and even that was followed by death. I stomp into the hospital and check with the receptionist to see if Pops has been moved to a regular room yet. She tells me he’s in room five thirty five, so I round the corner to the bank of elevators. Pressin’ the up button I wait impatiently before stompin’ over to the fire exit and take the steps two at a time to the fifth floor.
When I pull the door open to the fifth floor the distinct smell of antiseptic invades my senses and I cringe as my stomach lurches from the scent. Death. That’s all I smell within these damn four walls. I walk down the long corridor to room five thirty five and stop when I hear two voices speakin’. Without knockin’ I push the door open and rage rushes through my veins when I see Drew Varney sittin’ at my Pops’ bedside.
When Drew’s eyes lock on mine he stands dustin’ the lint from his sleeve. “Glad you’re okay, Bill. I’ll stop by to see you tomorrow if you’re still in here.”
“Don’t go outta ya way on my account, Drew.” Pops says angrily, his voice ragged. The air about the room is thick with tension and the frantic beepin’ of the heart monitor tells me Pops is stressed.
Drew pushes past me, his shoulder hittin’ mine and he sneers when I notice the contact. Stupid prick.
“Pops, ya feelin’ alright? Where’s momma at?” I say, glancin’ around the room.
“I’m on the right side of dirt, son. That’s what counts I guess.” He chuckles lightly, and it’s a sound I ain’t heard in months. “Ya momma went down to get some coffee just after Drew showed up. She’ll be back up shortly.”
“Think I’ll go check on her. Be right back.” I say, tippin’ my head up at him as I turn on my heels and leave the room. He don’t even try to stop me, perhaps he just ain’t got the strength. I stomp down the hallway takin’ the fire exit downstairs to the lobby. I push the door open to the first floor hallway and look from the left to the right in search of Drew. Stormin’ towards the lobby I see him walkin’ out the exit and I pick up the pace to catch up with him.
“You stupid bastard,” I yell claspin’ my hand around the back of his neck spinnin’ him around to face me. “You put the old man in here and you got balls big enough to show up here?” He stares at me with a stunned expression, his eyes skating wildly from my eyes to my hand fisted at my side.
“Mr. Weston, you might wanna remove your hand and take a step back.” He smirks and it takes everything in me not to smash his frickin’ face against the concrete again.
“Yeah and why’s that you frickin’ pussy? I’ve done tore your ass up once, don’t think I won’t do it again.” I spit, steppin’ forward to close the distance between us.
Drew takes a step back, straightening his shirt before crossin’ his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry you feel that I’d cause ill will towards your dad. He’s my business partner and I was merely checking on his health.”
“He ain’t sellin’ Dalton Truckin’ to you. Get that damn idea outta ya frickin’ head now, because it ain’t happenin’.” I seethe. “It’s a damn insult that you’d offer him so little for his partnership. This is your final warnin’ to stay the hell away from my family, every last one of ‘em.” I yell pokin’ my finger into his chest. I step around him to walk away because if I don’t get out of arm’s reach of him now, I may just rip his damn head off. But that’s when he digs the shovel in deeper.
“How’s that adorable little girl; what’s her name, Heidi Jo? Bill talks about her all the time. She sounds like a little firecracker.” He steps closer to me, tauntin’ me further. “She don’t look much like her momma though. Must have a strong dominant gene in ya, little buddy. Just better hope Carly’s little brat takes after the Weston side and not those crooked ass Simons.”
Rage.
The rage that slowly crawled through my chest earlier now rushes through my veins and I see black. Before I can think my fist crashes against the side of his face. Fury fills my veins and the hauntin’ feelin’ of death that I could feel followin’ me ‘round the halls of the hospital is now perched upon my shoulder urgin’ me to deliver its next victim. I deliver blow after blow to his face, chest and stomach as the rage continues and I don’t know if I can stop. Pummelin’ his body to a bloody pulp feels liberatin’ and goose bumps blanket my flesh knowin’ this man’s next breath hangs on the edge of my fists.
Somethin’ clicks in that moment. At first I don’t recognize it, but when his fearful eyes lock onto mine, my arms fall weightless. His chest heaves raggedly as he rolls to the side, spewin’ vomit against the cool concrete. I could end him right now, but if I do, I’m no better than him. Squattin’ down in front of him I spit through clenched teeth the last warnin’ I’ll give this sick bastard. “Last chance. Leave my family the hell alone. Next time, I’ll not stop.”
Chapter 27
“Oh my Heavens, son, what happened to you?” Momma squalls when I walk into Pops hospital room. I stomp into the bathroom to rinse the bastard’s blood from my knuckles. Tiny scrapes and cuts mark the tops of my fists with mixed blood spattered up my wrists and arms. I look up and have a what the hell moment when I realize my cheek is cut and swellin’ up. I scan back through my memory and don’t recall bein’ hit, but my face tells a different story. No wonder momma’s mouth dropped when she saw sight of me.
Well shit.
I know Momma and Pops both are gonna have a shit ton of questions, but considerin’ Pops’ ill health at the moment I have to tread lightly. I know my old man. He ain’t told Momma that Drew is tryin’ to force him out of Dalton Truckin’. Hell, all I know is that Drew offered Pops’ one hundred thousand dollars for the truckin’ company. Told him to walk away and never look back. Shit ain’t gonna be happenin’ though. The trucks alone are worth over four hundred thousand dollars, not includin’ the garage, mechanic trucks, equipment and the contracts that Dalton Truckin’ holds with different mines.
When Pops came to Simon Energy last week and told me that Drew was tryin’ to buy him out, red flags waved immediately. Naturally, I let anger get the best of me and I failed to ask him what the hell he was thinkin’. He obviously ain’t thinkin’ straight to even consider something so frickin’ stupid.
I’m suspicious about why Dad would even consider sellin’ Dalton Truckin’, let alone for a small percentage of what his company’s worth. Twenty plus years my old man has poured into his truckin’ company. The blood, sweat and tears pale in comparison to the time and money spent to lift his company up off the ground, moldin’ it to what it is today. Ain’t no damn way I’m gonna stand back and watch him give it away to some greedy ass prick like Drew Varney.
I step out of the bathroom and walk around the bed to window and remain silent until the nurse finishes checkin’ Pops’ vitals. Momma asks her a few questions about the stress test and ECG procedures that his doctor has scheduled for him for tomorrow mornin’. His blood pressure and heart rate appear to be steady, or so she says. Once the nurse leaves the room, Momma’s tender face turns cold as she pierces me with a deadpan glare.
“Colton Jacob Weston, you left this hospital just over an hour ago, so unless your face was so smeared with mud that I couldn’t see the swellin’ and bruisin’ that’s so ever present now, you’ve been in a brawl. Now, you’re a twenty six year old grown man; that I understand. But do you care to explain why your face is tattered?” Momm
a winces as thunder rolls heavily across the night sky.
Momma’s face is twisted into a scowl and she taps her foot against the floor impatiently waitin’ for an explanation. I look to Pops’ who gives me a one armed shrug while shakin’ his head. Without explainin’ myself, Pops’ knows what the frig happened, he’s just waitin’ to see if I’m gonna hang him along with myself. Considerin’ his ill health at the moment, I resort to the devices of my twelve year old mind-the one that lied to Momma about a pack of Marlboro Reds she found in the bathroom drawer. But instead of tellin’ Momma a bold face lie I simply stretch the truth, only tellin’ her what she truly needs to know in this moment.
“Saw somebody who pisses me off. We had words and I busted the prick up.” I shrug and Pops’ shoulders bounce quietly with the laughter that’s fillin’ his chest. Momma’s mouth drops and she grimaces at my use of language in her presence.
Momma has a Godly heart and raised me to be a strong Christian man, always puttin’ God first in my life. Believe it or not, I went to church every Sunday mornin’ up until my teen years. Somewhere along the way, I found myself stuck between raisin’ hell and amazin’ grace. I blame Pops’ for it all. Man ain’t never stepped foot in a church house and regardless of how hard Momma tried to influence me, my old man’s wicked ways found me. Now I ain’t sinister, or truly wicked, but I’ve raised enough hell in my short twenty six years to drive any Momma crazy. But my momma is truly genuine and strong enough to put up with a good ol’ country boy like me. Hell, she married Bill Weston. Woman shoulda known then her life would be filled with heartache and insanity.