Bellamy's Redemption

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Bellamy's Redemption Page 32

by Holly Tierney-Bedord


  “No, I’ve never done anything like that,” I said.

  “So,” she said. “Ask me anything. What do you want to know? Ask away. I mean it.”

  I shrugged. “Have you and Dwight been together long?”

  “Good question! It’s hard to pinpoint when we went from hanging out to really being together, you know? What’s funny is I actually used to be Dericka’s babysitter when she was little.”

  “Huh. Interesting,” I said.

  “I knew everyone in the family before I knew Dwight. I was hanging around with all of them for years. I was over here three times a week, before I’d even met Dwighty Whitey. Did you notice that’s my little name for him? There’s a long story there. I’ll tell you some other time. Anyway, Dwighty was at college. I’d only heard about him and seen his picture, but now, dunt dunt da dunt, we’re married. It’s funny how things work out. Who do you think is cuter?” She asked, tapping a picture on the bookshelf of Bellamy and one beside it of Dwight.

  “Bellamy,” I said.

  “Hmmm,” she said. “I like… both. Just kidding. But yeah, isn’t it funny how things work out?” She recapped her water bottle and tipped it upside down, right side up, upside down. Then she turned it right side up again and carefully balanced it on her head.

  “It is funny, isn’t it?” I agreed. I was being as boring and lame as possible, the way I get when I don’t want to lead someone on.

  “Emma, you never know what connects two people. People are like puzzle pieces. Sometimes they click right together, sometimes they don’t. Some people are universal pieces who can click together with lots of other people. And then some people are corner pieces who have way less options. They can only click with a small number of people.” The whole time she talked the bottle stayed balanced on her head. Perhaps she was trying to send me the message that even though she hadn’t competed in today’s challenges, she was capable of performing unusual physical feats as well.

  “What a great analogy,” I said. “Puzzle pieces.” I nodded as though I really liked this. What I was actually thinking about was Pete. I wished he was here to see this weirdness. He would find the whole situation funny. We would laugh about it. I wondered if Bellamy would think it was funny, or if he would be as defensive towards Sherifaye as she was towards him. I was also wondering if they possibly had ever hooked up. God, I hoped not!

  “Puzz ell Peeee sezzzzz,” she said deliberately.

  “Yup,” I said. “Do you mind? I think I’m going to grab a refill.”

  She took the water bottle off her head and took another drink. “Wait a minute. I want to tell you something.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you know about Charles Lindbergh?”

  “Well, I know about him flying across the ocean. And his baby was kidnapped, right? I don’t know much else about him.”

  “Now there’s an interesting one. You could read up on him every day for a month and you’d only be seeing the tip of the iceberg. They should make the study of Charles Lindbergh a college major. A person could be a Charles Lindberghologist. First of all, he fathered a lot of secret children. Because he believed in eugenics.”

  I wasn’t sure what eugenics were. “Wow. How… disloyal and… careless of him,” I said.

  “Careless?” she hissed with a furious wrath. “It was intentional.”

  “Oh.” In my head I was thinking Google Youjennicks as soon as you get home.

  “I think Dwight’s dad might feel the same way. Secretly, what attractive, successful person doesn’t, right? But it could be a real slippery slope. Luckily, the losers of society are popping out babies left and right so they have nothing to worry about. They won’t go extinct anytime soon. Dwight and I are thinking Delaney Linden for a girl and Dwight Junior for a boy. What do you think?”

  “Those are nice names.”

  “Linden sounds like Lindbergh. How strange that I never noticed that before. You’d better not steal them,” she said.

  “Your children?” I asked.

  “The names! You’d better not steal my names.”

  “Of course I won’t. Um, please excuse me,” I said, edging towards the door.

  Sherifaye casually shifted one of her long legs, scratched it, and in doing so plunked it up onto an end table, her dirty shoe amidst the knickknacks. A chunk of mud fell into one of Kate’s dishes of potpourri; she gave the potpourri a quick little flick and the mud was buried beneath a pinecone. “She’ll never know,” she said, like we were sharing some uniting daughter-in-law secret. Her leg separated me from the doorway like a fence. She smiled and put her hand on a bookshelf to keep her balance. “Just stretching,” she murmured.

  It was too much for me to handle. “I’m going to get a refill,” I said, holding up my glass and scoping out the best route around her.

  “Wait, Emma! No,” she said. “If you’re so thirsty, have some of my water.”

  “No thank you.”

  “Let’s talk some more. It’s so hard to get a chance to talk. We should take advantage of it.”

  “I’m wearing a microphone, you know.”

  “I know. It’s not like we’re saying anything we shouldn’t say. It’s just so nice not having the cameramen around. I think they’re all busy with everything going on outside. And honestly, I think some of them are drinking, so they’re like totally slacking.” She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

  I don’t know why I didn’t just walk around her. Well, aside from the obvious reason that she kept stopping me. I suppose I was still trying to behave like we were having a normal conversation.

  She saw me continuing to eye the door, and she grabbed my arm, nodding solemnly. “Do you ever drink water? It’s healthy, you know.”

  “I know. I drink quite a bit. Usually in the form of ice cubes,” I added trying to make a joke.

  She sighed a long sigh, her viselike grip pressing into my arm. Once again she was focused on the pictures of Bellamy at prom. “Just look at his date. Sarah Buttersmoot. Look at her stupid smile. She’s so full of herself. I wish I could wipe that smile right off her face.” She dropped my arm and scrubbed at the picture with her thumb. “And what a dumb dress. Speaking of dresses, Kate picked out my wedding dress.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  Encouraged by an ounce of responsiveness from me, Sherifaye let loose. She lowered her voice and began speaking with a fierce urgency while noisily tapping her water bottle, I think in an effort to drown out her whispers from reaching our microphones. “My wedding dress! Can you believe it? Wow, Emma, it is so great to have someone to finally talk to. Being part of this family is like living on the Kennedy Compound. The isolation. The loneliness. Do you understand what it takes to be part of a family like this? I’ll bet you don’t. Really, you probably can’t even imagine. If I’m acting crazy, it’s because of them. You’ll see. First of all, you can never get fat. And you can’t do asinine things in public. Don’t let Dericka’s tattoo fool you; it’s only acceptable because it’s big enough to be considered artistic instead of seedy. That Kate is a control freak about anything having to do with fashion or style. I hope you don’t care about things like what clothes you wear or how your home looks. Yeah, that’s right! She decorated our house too. She’ll drive you batshit crazy. You will lose your mind. I’m going to say it again: You will lose your mind.”

  “Hmm,” I said, nodding.

  “That’s all you’ve got for me?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “In that case, never mind,” she said, shaking her head. I was the rescue helicopter beelining away from her island.

  Unsure of what I should say, knowing I wanted to say nothing, I shrugged feebly and held up my empty glass.

  “You’re thirsty! That’s right,” she said, returning to her previous persona. “But before you go, I still can’t believe he took Sarah Buttersmoot to prom. Can you? Look at her,” she said, tapping the glass. She was leaving marks all over everything. I supposed
they had a cleaning crew who would erase it all soon.

  “I think I need to use the bathroom,” I said. You can’t argue with someone needing to use the bathroom, right?

  “Emma, wait. I’m talking to you. Why are you leaving? Seriously, you’re hurting my feelings.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just want to get back to Bellamy.”

  “You’ll have your whole life to be with him. Do you realize how lucky you are?”

  “Of course. Yes, I’m so lucky,” I said.

  “I knew Sarah Buttersmoot since I was born. I introduced them. But she swears they met once back in sixth grade at camp.”

  “Oh. It’s such a small world.”

  “Not really. I’ve never understood that expression.”

  “Okay,” I said. What dreams I had of being part of the perfect family were shattering. Fortunately, they had been weak, watery, easy-come-easy-go dreams. Now I just really needed to escape. Sherifaye alone was too much for me to bear. And a mother-in-law picking out a wedding dress and decorating my home? Could anything be worse? And all the sports. And all the togetherness. And a father-in-law who believed in youjennicks? They sounded very sinister. It was time to give up. Time to remove myself from the competition. I didn’t care if I ended up poor and alone. As long as I was some place quiet with a soft bed I would be happy all my days.

  Or perhaps it was just the exhaustion and alcohol talking.

  “Small world,” Sherifaye continued. “The world is huge. It’s the biggest thing there is.”

  “I don’t mean that the world is literally a small place. I guess I’m going to head outside…” I began to say. She cut me off: “I think they really want you to be a part of this family.”

  “That means a lot to me,” I said.

  “If Dirk proposed to you, would you say yes?”

  My first instinct was to ask who Dirk was, but I immediately remembered she meant Bellamy. I found myself nodding. “Yes,” I said. I realized my mouth had formed the words, but no sound had come out.

  “Well, in that case, I guess we’ll be sisters-in-law soon. I mean, if he asks you. It’s not like I have any inside information.” She winked. Then she leaned forward and gave me a big hug. She smelled of sweat and expensive perfume. I reciprocated even though I wanted to pull away.

  “You can be in my recipe club one day,” she whispered in my ear. As she let go of me and took a step back she smiled a tight, strained smile. “You should go find him. I think he’s out by the fire. I’m sure he misses you.”

  “Good idea,” I said, so glad to slip away from her.

  Chapter 32

  “Did you have a nice talk with Sherifaye?” asked Bellamy.

  I couldn’t help myself from looking at him like he had to be kidding. In his special way, he did not pick up on the message I was trying to send. Instead, he wrapped his quilted flannel jacket around my shoulders and began to strum his guitar and sing. “Oh Sweetheart Lucinda Sue, from down yonder by the bayou,” he crooned. All the others around the campfire jumped right in to the sing-along.

  I flipped up the quilted collar and slinked down into the jacket until it came up past my nose. I wanted to plug my ears but I resisted. Honestly, it took everything I had to keep my fingers out of my ears. I kept telling myself that if I could just make it until tomorrow, I would have the time and space to figure out everything. Maybe I did like Bellamy. Maybe it was just all these people and cameras and the constant action. I’d always been someone who liked my time alone. Maybe if I just got a little alone time again, I could sort out what I really needed.

  “Don’t you know this one?” Dericka mouthed to me sympathetically. I shook my head. As soon as the song wrapped up she leaned across me and tapped her brother’s arm. “Play one that Emma knows next,” she said.

  “First of all,” said Bellamy, standing up, “I need to introduce Emma to all our neighbors. Emma, this is John and Mandy Babcock and their daughter Maeve, and that handsome couple next to them is Prescott and Louise Gentry, and then to their left eating s’mores are Sandra and Bob Arnold, and that’s Josiah,” he said.

  “Josiah’s ours,” said Louise, raising her hand.

  “And this is Emma,” Bellamy said, pulling me up and giving me a squeeze.

  “Hi everyone,” I said.

  “Hi Emma!” they all cheered. They sat on L.L. Bean wool blankets that were spread over halved log benches. Canning jars of beverages were in their hands. The children held sticks with browned marshmallows.

  “How do you like it here?” asked Louise.

  “It’s very beautiful,” I said. In the flickering firelight, the crowd looked like a maniacal version of a Kinfolk magazine spread.

  “You’ve got yourself a great guy here in Dirk,” said one of the men. Bob maybe.

  “Don’t I know it,” I said.

  “Emma, what campfire songs do you know?” asked Dericka.

  “Oh, just sing whatever songs you like. I’ll listen. I’m not much of a singer,” I said. Did their expectations never end?

  “Oh, come on,” said the crowd.

  “No, that’s okay,” I said.

  They all chimed in at once in a chorus of encouragement: “Everyone can sing!”

  “You don’t have to be perfect.”

  “Just jump right in!”

  “We won’t be able to tell which voice is yours!”

  “Ugh...” I said, trying to think of any campfire song. I looked at Bellamy helplessly. He smiled back at me and plucked a couple of strings.

  “Let’s sing the one about the bear in the boat,” Dericka said firmly but cheerily to her brother, mercifully derailing the potential for one of those escalating moments where everyone helpfully, persistently pushes you to do something you have no intention of doing.

  I sank back down into the quilted jacket, going back to the happy place where I pictured the airport, the plane ride, my apartment, Pete. Pete. At this time tomorrow I would be right down the hall from Pete. I spaced out as Bellamy and the crowd sang one song after another, my mind alternating between dreams of the next day and sleepy blankness.

  Finally someone announced, “Would you believe it’s nearly two in the morning?”

  Yes! said the voice in my head.

  “We’d better go,” said Louise. Everyone else agreed that it was time to say farewell, and they all made a production of hugging and kissing me goodbye. I felt sorry for the other girls at this point, all back at the hotel, expectations on high, looking forward to their own upcoming chances with Bellamy’s family.

  A short while later I was in my room, face washed, teeth brushed, ready for sleep. Just as I was about to turn off my bedside lamp there was a knock on my door.

  “Come in,” I said.

  “Hi,” said Bellamy, sticking his head in just a little. “Mind if I come in?”

  “Of course not,” I said. He and Luca made their way inside my room, closing the door behind them since other members of Bellamy’s family had gone to sleep.

  “Did you have a fun day?” he asked me.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “You did a great job.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re such a natural.”

  “I don’t know how all that lumberjack stuff went as well as it did,” I admitted.

  “Well, I just thought I’d say goodnight…” He kissed me. “You look so sleepy,” he said.

  “I’m beat,” I said.

  “You have to leave pretty early in the morning, don’t you?”

  “I think I have to be up by six,” I said.

  Neither of us mentioned that another girl would be showing up probably by mid-morning.

  “Alright, get some sleep. I’ll get up with you in the morning so I can say goodbye.”

  “Thanks. That’s sweet of you,” I said.

  “I’m going to miss you. I won’t see you for days,” he said.

  “I’ll miss you too.”

  “I can’t wait to meet your fam,�
� he said.

  “Aww,” I said, just the teensiest bit annoyed that he was referring to them in the lingo of the show.

  He gave me another kiss, and then he tucked me in, stuffing the sheets and blankets around me until I felt like a stiff mummy. “Aww,” I murmured politely, again. I was out of conversational material.

  “All tucked in,” he said smiling.

  “Yup.” I’d unstuff myself once he left.

  Luca reopened the door letting a little of the hall light in and Bellamy turned off my bedside lamp. “Goodnight,” he said as he followed Luca out the door. They both waved at me. I couldn’t wave since my arms were as immobilized as a fly in amber, so I just blinked a couple of times. They closed the door and I untangled myself.

  And then, despite how tired I had been all night, I found myself unable to fall asleep. The hours ticked by on an antique alarm clock beside my bed. I listened with a calm sort of omniscience to the sounds of the house. A toilet flushing at 2:30. Floorboards creaking at 3:30 followed by water running as someone got up to get a drink. I kept waiting for Bellamy to come to me, but I knew he wouldn’t and he never did.

  It wasn’t the expectation of a visit from him that was keeping me awake, however. It was an old habit that had been with me for as long as I could remember. I’d done it at classmates’ houses and at camp, while on vacation with my family as a child, and later as an adult, lying awake at soon-to-be ex-boyfriends’ apartments; I was memorizing it all, sensing on some unutterable level that despite it all supposedly being mine for the taking, I might never be back.

  When the alarm went off, I couldn’t even remember having closed my eyes.

  Chapter 33

  My apartment felt like a cold, grey tomb. The first thing I saw was a heap of mail cascading over my front hall floor. As I turned on lights and looked around, I discovered that my home was much smaller and not nearly as nice as I remembered. I parked my luggage beside the hall table and knelt on the floor, scooping up the mail into a tidy pile. I realized that I’d paid my rent, cable, and utilities a few months ahead, but somehow forgotten about my credit cards. A knot of panic twisted in my stomach. I hadn’t been back for five minutes and the reality and responsibilities of regular adult life were depressing me.

 

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