by Sheri Lynn
“Reba. Yep.” The old man spit a glob of brown gunk off the porch. “Round the corner. Craig’s car is prolly out front. He still drives that loud ass Monte Carlo he souped up.”
Trevor had no desire to meet Craig. Hopefully, he chose the correct neighbor and located Polly. “Thank you both for your time.” Returning to the car he turned the air conditioner up on high. It might be hot on the islands, but damn at least you got a breeze. So far, he’d compare Durkinville to the armpit of hell.
Either most people weren’t home, or they didn’t have personal transportation. The Monte Carlo happened to be the only vehicle within sight. Trevor checked his phone one last time before he bit the bullet and connected with one of Sophia’s relatives. He parked his rental in front of Craig’s car and out of view of the front of Craig’s presumed home. He kept his fingers crossed he chose Polly’s residence. Encountering more hostile, rude individuals would test him beyond what he felt capable to handle at that moment.
The porch shook with each step he took. He heard a television. The front door stood open. He knocked on the side of the trailer. He doubted what remained of the screen door could sustain any amount of force without falling from the corroded hinges.
“Who is it?” a woman called from inside.
“Is this Polly Conrad’s residence?” he replied.
The place rocked with footsteps. A woman appeared. She had salt and pepper colored hair. A cigarette dangled from her lips. “Who wants to know?”
Damn these people weren’t forthcoming. He had to bite his lip to prevent himself from roaring ‘I do.’ If this woman happened to be Polly, he saw no resemblance to Sophia. None whatsoever. The lady appeared thin and frail. Older than her years. “Do you know Sophia Conrad? I’m trying to find her.”
The lady laughed. A horrible sound. “Well, if that ain’t somethin. She in some sort of trouble?” She blew smoke in his face. “Wouldn’t that be somethin? You a debt collector? Li’l Miss Perfect having money trouble.”
He didn’t need confirmation. From everything he ever heard about her mother, he had the right address. He snatched the door open and stepped inside. “I’m her boyfriend. Where is she?” he demanded.
The woman’s barely evident eyes grew to the size of saucers. And they were blue like Sophia’s. She stumbled away from him. “I don’t recall invite…ing you in,” she slurred.
“And I can’t believe if you are Sophia’s mother you would be so rude as to not invite me in.”
She staggered to a recliner and sat. Picking up beer cans from a table beside her, she shook each of them until she found one with something in it. She threw her head back and drank it. Trevor wondered how long it had been sitting there.
“Go figure she go and get er a purty boy.” She cocked her head studying him. “Seems to me if you was her boyfriend you’d know where to find er.”
He so wanted to strangle someone. She had a valid point.
“But knowing princess face she’d be shamed to have you know her real home,” Polly remarked.
True. Could he possibly use this to his advantage? “If I didn’t know anything about her real home, I wouldn’t know your name and address. Would I?” Time to sweet talk her. He could do it. “And what a…vision you are, Polly. I’ve looked forward to meeting the lady who raised a woman such as Sophia.”
She smacked her lips at him and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know where she is staying. She asked bout Shady Pines motel, but Reba and I couldn’t find er there the day of the funeral.”
“Where else could she be? You think she is still in the area?”
She belched. “Yep. I know she is. She ain’t done with all the legal crap she’s insistin’ on.”
He clenched his fist. What sort of legal crap did they have her involved in? “Well, where else could she be staying?”
“I guess in Pippin. There’s some hotels more to her standard.” Her eyes searched the room. Picking up some empty boxes of cigarettes from the table and tossing them on the floor, she stared at him. “You mind getting my smokes and lighter from the kitchen table.”
He did as she requested. She lived in a pigsty. The lack of any cool or fresh air made it smell like one too.
“She won’t tell me or Reba where she is. She says she’ll call Reba if she needs anything and before she leaves.” She lit her cigarette and leaned back in her chair. “Dat’s all I got.”
Standing in the nasty room trying to interpret what he learned and what to do, a man shouted from outside. “Polly, if she’s in there she better have that mutt bastard with er.”
“Don’t Craig. Leave them be. It’s best this way,” a woman pleaded.
The door swung open and a tall man entered. “Who da fuck are you?”
Trevor’s first impression besides vulgar were of a menacing man with a thick head of unruly red hair, an overgrown beard in the same shade, and piercing blue eyes. Trevor just came into contact with Sophia’s father, Craig. He only thought he strongly disliked the man before. Now he loathed him in every sense of the word.
Without any knowledge of what he walked into, Trevor chose to—well, he didn’t have to play stupid, he was. “I am on my way out,” he stated.
Craig not only wouldn’t move out the doorway, he made a fist and jammed it into Trevor’s chest. “I didn’t ask when or where you were goin?”
A little blonde jumped around behind Craig. “See. He’s no one. I told ya they aren’t here,” she bickered.
Visions of the police or sheriff being called and arresting him raced through his mind. In no way would that help matters. Trevor took a deep breath and a few steps back putting distance between him and the man he so wanted to pummel into a mere speck of waste.
Craig extended his arm onto the metal frame of the door separating him and the blonde shoving it open forcefully. The blonde must have been expecting it. She lunged out of its path. “Come on, Craig. Dinner is bout ready. Let’s go eat. I know you’re angry at Polly and me. But you won’t let me have Lily and Polly don’t want her,” she fretted.
Lifting his foot and kicking over the side table by the recliner, Craig roared, “That’s not the point, stupid bitches. We all coulda gotten money. And lotsa it.”
Polly didn’t flinch during the entire exchange. She remained in her ratty chair unmoved. Trevor assumed these kinds of skirmishes were a common occurrence. Blondie knew when to get out of the way. Polly ignored it.
The clicking sound of the hammer of a gun being pulled back silenced everything. “Get the fuck out of my house. And don’t cha eva come back.” Polly stood and pointed the barrel of her revolver at Craig’s chest. “If you think for one stinkin minute in your pathetic life I would allow you to touch another hair on my daughter’s head. Any child’s head. Ever again. You are more stupid than I know you are.”
Had Trevor stepped into some alternate universe. Or the Twilight Zone. He only wanted to get to Sophia.
Polly advanced forcing Craig to back out of the trailer. “You don’t deserve shit. As if I would allow you to manipulate Sophia. And for what. For money you don’t even need. You make plenty at the mill. You threw her out like garbage. Just like you did me. Get out of here.”
Speechless. Trevor had no words. Trevor had no coherent thoughts. He couldn’t believe what he just witnessed. Perhaps the most confounding part being Polly’s validation. For a drunk, she spoke clearly and concisely. And she defended Sophia.
She followed Craig out and down the steps. When she returned inside, she took her chair. “I don’t know where Sophia is. That’s the truth. But you seem decent enough. And if you’re willing to subject yourself to all this, you go get er.” She picked up her pack of cigarettes and pulled another one out. “Her car looks exactly like the one you are driving.”
Chapter 15
Hotel
Sophia
Three days of caring for a baby. Three days of appointment after appointment. Three days of grasping at straws. Sophia faced the obvious. She couldn’t do
it.
Lily cried. A lot. Sophia took her to the doctor. Lily received a clean bill of health. She did get several shots. Which one of them cried more when she got stuck Sophia couldn’t guess.
She met with an attorney. After an hour of hearing him drone on about this and that required for guardianship and a future adoption, Sophia couldn’t comprehend a thing. Besides the constant attention she had to give to Lily who crawled under the conference table, climbed on the chairs, cried, and pooped her diaper.
The birth certificate she obtained had no father named. One less obstacle to overcome. She supposed. Sitting on the couch, SpongeBob on the television somewhat holding Lily’s interest, Sophia cried. She hadn’t checked in at work. She hadn’t done anything but take care of Lily and initiate the actions required to protect the child’s future.
She missed Trevor. Four days ago, she imagined a different future. Her future. A future with Trevor. And she had never seen a prettier picture. Now she didn’t know heads from tails. Except she got to see too much of Lily’s behind every day. Dang that kid pooped a lot.
The weight of it all trampled her. So stupid. How many times did she need to receive the same message over and over from the universe? She wouldn’t have a forever love. Her parents couldn’t love her. How could someone else.
They couldn’t. She hoped Lily could. Even she kicked and screamed at the very sight of Sophia. Was Sophia unlovable? Had something in her DNA predisposed her to being rejected by others?
Sitting on the couch, Sophia cried. Lily sat on the floor crying surrounded by an array of snacks Sophia gave her hoping to appease her. Two gals in a hotel on a Friday night shared a good sob fest.
Her phone lit up. She had been avoiding any calls from anyone not related in the care of Lily or her petition for guardianship. And she needed to stop doing it. She couldn’t bury her head in the sand. She needed to talk to Molly and discuss the situation in depth. Reducing her hours and the hands-on relationships she had in the company were no longer an option. She had Lily now.
The phone read an incoming call from Trevor. He had texted her asking her to call him one day recently. She couldn’t remember which day. They all were a blur. And she thought he left her a voicemail. Any other time of her life she would be over the moon hearing from him. Especially after all the terrible things she said to him. But now they made absolutely no sense together. As if they ever did.
It stopped ringing and he didn’t leave a message. Her phone lit up again. This time a text. All in caps.
“IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME YOUR ROOM NUMBER I WILL GO ON EACH FLOOR SCREAMING FOR YOU UNTIL YOU DO.”
Ripping her phone from the table she stared at it. He couldn’t mean what she thought he did. What she hoped he did. And she did wish it. More than anything. But it would be nothing but a waste of her time and his.
Another text came through.
“I am in the lobby of whatever extended stay hotel this is behind the Cracker Barrel.”
Her hands shook. He couldn’t be serious. No way. Not after how she left him after the wedding.
Another text lit her phone. “Slo-phia. You are living up to the name again. You have 30 seconds.”
She jumped up and started for the door. She stopped. Circled. Paced. She didn’t believe it.
Dashing for the room phone on the desk opposite the kitchen, she lifted the receiver and after a couple missed attempts punched the 0.
“Front Desk. This is Jeremy, how can I assist you?” the desk clerk answered.
She paused deliberating how ridiculous her question may sound. He could call the authorities claiming she had a child with her and became delusional or behaved drunk and disorderly. But she continued anyway, “Is there a man in the lobby asking for me or my room number?”
Footsteps sounded through the line. He whispered, “Yes. Do I need to call the authorities?”
The fear it could be her dad crept into her psyche. After the shock and terror of his call on Wednesday, she’d been extra aware of her goings and comings and in responding or answering any questionable texts or calls.
“Is he tall? Long brown hair. Dark beard. Early 30’s,” she queried.
“Yes ma’am,” he clarified.
Why? How? A crazed mob of opposing emotions converged on her. Joy. Uncertainty. Shame. Dread. Improbability. It paralyzed her. Her mouth opened. Nothing came out.
“What should I do ma’am?” the clerk repeated.
Lily continued to whine, but she had quieted and laid her head on a pillow Sophia gave her. The clerk shouldn’t do anything. Neither should she. But she had to see for herself if he truly was there. “I’ll be up there in a second,” she advised.
Grabbing the room key from the table she left the room and raced to the end of the hallway. Peering around the corner, sure enough she saw Trevor. Until that moment she must not have believed it. She looked terrible. She knew she did. She’d been in her room crying all afternoon. And she even changed into her comfy clothes once she and Lily came back for the day just so she could lay around and devote herself to being miserable wholeheartedly.
Rubbing under her eyes and over her cheeks, she patted a few stray hairs back into her messy ponytail and stepped into the lobby. “Trevor,” she stated.
His face lifted and his body perked when he looked at her. Short-lived. He hurried to her and gripped her shoulders. “Are you okay?” The excessive concern in his voice had her shielding her face from his perceptive eyes.
“Yes. I don’t know why you’re here, but it isn’t a good time for me. We just buried my sister,” she croaked.
“I heard Abigail died. I’m sorry.” The evident pause he gave when saying Abigail’s name told her more than his words could. He didn’t have any intention of leaving without more information. He knew how she felt about Abigail. It seemed he knew more than she wanted him to. He found her.
“Trevor, it’s really not a good time. Can we just take a rain check? I’ll contact you when I get back to D.C.”
“No,” he snapped.
Her eyes zoomed to his face. They met a rigid and stern one. Her body instinctively reacted, and she took a step back. “I’m sorry you are in the mood to be so completely disinclined to my requests given my recent loss.” Yes. She had to be strong and detached.
Clutching the back of her neck and jerking her back into his chest, his body blocking the line of sight between the clerk and her, he threatened, “I’m tired of games, Slo-phia. You are a very intelligent woman, but so very slow when it comes to me. If you don’t talk to me and tell me what the fuck is going on—if you force my hand and make me leave without trusting me enough to let me in. I--.” He didn’t finish. He dropped his hand from her and took two giant steps away from her. He watched her. He waited.
How could her heart and her head be such opposing forces all the time? It wore her out. Her entire being suffered from extreme exhaustion. What did she have to lose? Him.
“Come on.” She headed to the room. She didn’t hear him behind her. Looking over her shoulder she coached, “As in follow me. You want to know what’s going on. Come see for yourself.”
Something unexpected and insanely hysterical occurred she never in a million years could have imagined. Trevor came into the room, heard and located Lily. His eyebrows shot up. His eyes darted from Lily to Sophia. He actually appeared to be calculating if the child could be his. Sophia hadn’t laughed since she left Roatán. Not completely true. She and Molly did the Sunday after she came back. It felt like such a long time ago. And the fit of unbridled amusement started in her limbs, radiated in her torso, and exploded.
She laughed until she cried. And then she just cried.
Wrapping his arm around her, Trevor led her to the couch. Lily stood and came to her whining to be picked up in her arms.
“Is she yours?” asked Trevor.
A chuckle surfaced in between her sobs. “No. And I can’t believe you had to think about if she was yours. You and I were together just three weeks a
go.”
“Well. Yes. But women find out earlier and earlier nowadays,” he justified.
“Then they carry them for nine months. And she’s fifteen months.” Sophia sniffled and placed Lily in her lap. Lily wrapped her legs around Sophia’s waist and laid her head on her breasts.
“Okay. I guess with all the cloak and dagger I didn’t know what I was walking into,” Trevor rationalized.
Lily whined. Sophia wished she knew how to appease the poor thing. “Who’s being dramatic now? Cloak and dagger. Really.” Sophia rocked with the child.
For the next thirty minutes Sophia caught Trevor up to speed on why she came to Durkinville, how long she would stay, and her plans for Lily.
At least, and not in a good way, Lily continued being fussy. She had two more poopy diapers. And Trevor asked if she might be sick. Sophia just took her to the doctor on Thursday. He asked if she had any immunizations. Did she have any teeth coming in?
Hearing another round of explosive diarrhea in Lily’s diaper, Sophia whined, “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about kids. She did get some shots.”
He called his sister-in-law, Lucy. The conversation didn’t last but maybe five minutes before he ended the call and told Sophia to hold tight. He Googled the nearest pharmacy and said he would be back shortly.
And he was. In record time. She opened the door when he knocked, and he rushed in with multiple bags. “Okay. After talking with Lucy and the pharmacist, we are starting with children’s Tylenol then an oatmeal bath. I also have some cream to coat her raw little bottom in. No more wipes until she’s diarrhea free.” He proceeded to retrieve the Tylenol and administer the appropriate dosage for Lily’s weight, which Sophia discovered the day before at the pediatrician’s office.