by Julie Bailes
She tosses her head back and blows out a breath. She drops her arms to her sides and plops down in the chair beside me. She leans back, crosses her legs, and bounces her foot as she stares blankly at the ceiling. “Wyatt, my home is still your home, you know that. It’s just- just,” she stammers.
“Just what, Lucille? You hear one side of the Goddamn story and I’m automatically the bad guy, huh? I never believed you’d think so low of me.”
She reaches over and takes my chin in her hand, squeezing it with all the strength her petite hand stores. “Now, you listen. I came down here to check on you, but you will not use that tone of voice with me, nor will I allow you to take the Lord’s name in vain. You hear me?”
When I don’t answer, she pinches my chin tighter and turns my face to hers. “Yes, ma’am. I hear you,” I nod.
She keeps a tight grip on my chin as her eyes search mine, looking for something, but I don’t know what. I’m an open book; I have no reason to hide secrets, never have. Finally, she releases her death grip and rests her hand on my wrist. “I love you, Wyatt; that’ll never change. You’re my son and my love for you will never fade.” As soon as I open my mouth to cut her off, she points her long, skinny finger at my nose, glares, and shakes her head. “I know what you’re about to say, but blood doesn’t make you family, love does. I’m just surprised by what I’ve heard; hurt by it, actually. I know I haven’t given you a chance to explain, and I apologize for lashing out at you earlier without hearing you out. What would you’ve done in my position? I was out on the town, dancing, having a blast and then I get the call from Blake that Allie’s been in a terrible accident and that I needed to come home. He wouldn’t give me any details.” She pauses to catch the tear that threatens to escape. “I get here and you are nowhere near. Blake tells me that you’ve been banned from the hospital’s property. Then, the only story I hear is that they believe Allie walked in on you and Sophie, you know, doin’ y’all’s thing,” she adds.
My heart clenches before she finishes speaking. The very thought of Allie seeing me with another woman is enough to make me wish I’d never made it back home to her. I’d rather die than have her see me fucking someone who isn’t her.
I reach over the arms of the chair and take her hands in mine. I need for her to feel the love that runs through me for Allie, and for her. “Lucille, look into my eyes and tell me if you honestly believe I would sleep with anyone besides Allie. After all I’ve sacrificed, the fight I put up to return home to her … Do you think I would intentionally hurt her?” She remains silent, shaking her head as the walls to her dam come crumbling down and her tears break free. “Exactly. I would never harm her, physically or emotionally. Now, I can’t say that Allie didn’t walk in on me and Sophie, or that I didn’t have sex with that girl, but I promise you, I don’t remember doing it,” I choke, attempting to swallow back tears of my own, but it’s pointless; there are too many to fight. I can’t put into words the feeling I get knowing that there’s a possibility Allie saw me balls deep inside another woman. Another reason it hurts so much is because I know if I gave it to Sophie, I would’ve given it to her good, really fucking good. The only woman ever on my mind is Allie. I’ve wanted nothing more since I’ve returned than to feel her warmth around me, welcoming me home. So if I sexed that slut, Sophie, the way I’ve thought about sexing Allie, I blew her mind, and just the thought of doing so makes me sick as fuck to my stomach.
“That’s what I don’t understand, Wyatt. How do you not remember? Why did you leave her that night, huh? What happened between you two? You promised me that you were going to take care of her; that’s why I left you alone with her. You want me to understand, to be on your side? Tell me what happened that night.” God, I wish I could give her all the information she’s searching for, but I don’t fucking know it! I take in a deep breath to gather my composure before I tell her why I turned my back on Allie. Although I can’t remember much that happened after Willie’s, the conversation Allie and I had is set on repeat in my mind. I hear her tell me ‘It was you, Wyatt’, ‘I gave her away’, over and over again.
Lucille’s hand rests in the middle of my back. “Tell me,” she urges, so I do tell her. “Allie was getting ready to leave, but I bribed her to stay. I went out and got her ice cream because she had been sick for a few days, and all I wanted to do was make her feel better. I only planned on watching some T.V. because she needed to rest. I had no intentions of pursuing her that night, but the way she looked at me, the passion that burns through those beautiful brown eyes—for me—I couldn’t hold off any longer. I begged her to leave Blake. I asked her to choose me, to be with me, but she wouldn’t listen. There’s no denying she loves me, and that I’m the one she needs.” Frustration consumes me as I relive the conversation Allie and I had. I stand up and pace the floor in front of Lucille, pounding my fist into my palm with each word I speak. “I asked her if she was truly over me, if she had given up on me, but she couldn’t answer. So, I called her on her bullshit. That’s when she told me she was pregnant, with Blake’s baby. Not mine, Lucille, his!” The last few words burn like acid on my tongue.
She tried to use the fact that she’s carrying another man’s child as an excuse to be with him instead of me, knowing it isn’t a good enough excuse for me to let her go. Of course, I felt like she drove a knife straight through my heart when she told me, but it still isn’t enough to make me stop loving her. “That’s it?” Lucille shrugs. I shake my head as I prepare to speak the words that I want so desperately to be a lie. “Wyatt, sit down. You’re making my legs hurt from walking so much, sit.” I listen to Lucille and sit back down beside her then continue telling her how Allie killed my soul.
“I remember how much it hurt, her telling me she was pregnant. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy, but for her to be happy with me. I want her to have a family with me!” I yell, slapping my chest in the hope that the sting to my skin will take away the stinging inside my heart. “She told me, Lucille. She told me it was me, that we had a baby and she just gave her away. Why? Why didn’t anyone tell me, huh? Why didn’t you tell me, dammit? I would’ve come home. I would’ve taken care of them,” I say, venom coating my words as my blood begins to rise to an unhealthy temperature. Lucille reaches out and wraps her arms around my neck.
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but it’s all I need to make me break down like a complete pussy. My anger dissipates, and I sob every ounce of heartache I have onto her shoulder.
“We had no clue where you were, Wyatt. For an entire year, we searched for you. You vanished. It wasn’t until four months after the adoption that you and Kyle told me that you two were together,” she reminds.
She’s right, but what about Kyle? He never mentioned Allie having a baby. “Why didn’t anyone tell Kyle? He would’ve told me, Lucille. I would’ve come back, you know that. Y’all tell Kyle everything, so why did you keep our daughter a secret?” Her eyes grow wide and her lips press together firmly, which tells me that Kyle knew about the baby. Immediately, I bury my heartache. “Fuck me. He knew, didn’t he?”
She nods. “B- but-” she stutters.
“Fuck! Are you shitting me? Please, tell me he didn’t know. There’s no way he would keep that from me. No fucking way,” I roar. He would’ve told me. Kyle and I told each other everything. I mean, hell, we watched each other’s back while the other one shit sometimes, and you can’t get any more close and personal than that. There’s no way he would’ve known that Allie was having my baby and not tell me.
Lucille stands up and begins to walk away, “Where are you going?” She ignores my call and continues walking to the elevator. I run to her side just as the elevator doors open. As she begins to step into the elevator, I jump in front of her and use my arms to block her entrance. “You can’t just leave, not now,” I say.
“Oh, I can, and I am. I told you once already that you will not speak to me in that manner.”
As angry as I am, and as hard as it may be,
I choke out an apology. “You’re right. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
She slaps my arm down and steps inside the elevator. “I’m taking you home to get a shower and some food. You look terrible. Your eyes are bloodshot, your hair’s greasy, your breath smells bad, and you need some sleep.”
I shake my head the entire time she speaks. I’m not stepping a foot off these grounds. “I can’t. I promised myself I wouldn’t leave until I find out she’s okay,” I explain.
She places her hand on my shoulder and takes a step closer to me “Wyatt, do you think I’d be leaving if she wasn’t fine? She’s awake, alert, and talking. They’re going to run some more tests and get her some food. Look at me; she’s going to be just fine. You’re already trespassing. If you don’t get cleaned up, your stench is going to attract attention. Then they’ll really escort you off their property,” she jokes. I don’t smile or laugh at her joke, because for the first time in days, I can finally breathe. I take in a deep, long, and relaxing lung-full of air knowing that my butterfly is awake. She’s going to be okay.
We’re about five minutes away from the house and we’ve remained silent the entire time, until now. “Do you remember anything from that night, anything after leaving the house? Where did you go, Wyatt? Sophie told me you two were together, but no one has told me how you got there … Do you know? And where’s your Jeep?”
I continue looking out my window, watching the trees flash before my eyes, causing my vision to blur and my head to spin, much like the last three days have done. “I remember some, but not much. When I walked out, I had no clue where I was headed. I just needed to get away to calm down before we hurt each other more than we already had. I was driving and ended up at Willie’s. Even though it was crowded and I didn’t want to be near anyone, I thought a few beers might’ve relaxed me … Can you pull over for a sec?” With the trees, the memories, lack of sleep, and separation from Al, my stomach’s had all it can take. I open the door just as Lucille’s veering off to the side of the road, leaving a trail of vomit along the asphalt as she drives. Once she stops the vehicle completely, I jump out and walk over to the grass. I bend down; place my hands on my knees, and dry heave until I’m certain my lungs are lodged into my throat.
I’m kneeling down trying to catch my breath when I feel Lucille’s small, warm hands on either side of my shoulders. “We’ve got to get some food in you and let you get some rest.” Her hands come away from my shoulders and she forces her arms beneath mine, attempting to pull me up. Weakly, I stand up and she helps me walk back to the car. Once she helps me buckle the belt, she puts the car in drive and speeds home.
When we’re in the driveway, she silences the engine, opens her door, and begins to step out. Before she gets both legs out the door, I reach over and grab her arm. “I need to finish telling you all I remember,” I insist.
“You can, but first we’re going to get you inside and get you something to eat. You’re the weakest I’ve ever seen you. In fact, I’ve never seen you look so pale and fragile; it’s frightening me.” She steps out of the car and comes around to help me out. She’s right, this isn’t me. I’ve never depended on anyone to help me, not physically. And especially not someone as small as Lucille.
When we finally make it through the front door, Lucille directs me to the couch and disappears into the kitchen. When she returns, she has a sub sandwich with pretzels, an apple and peanut butter, and a bottle of water. She sets the tray down on the table in front of me and opens her hand up, revealing a small white pill.
“Take this; it’s for your stomach,” she explains.
I hate taking medicine, any and all meds. “I’m fine, promise. It was the ride. I just got motion sickness-”
“Bull crap! I’ve taken care of you for how long? I know you don’t get car sick. Take it,” she orders, stretching her hand up to my mouth.
If I had the strength to argue with her, I would, but I’m saving what I have to finish telling her about Friday night. I reach into the palm of her hand, pick the tablet up, and place it on my tongue. She opens the water and places the bottle to my lips. I love her motherly instincts, but I don’t need to be hand fed. I’m a grown-ass man. I take the bottle from her hand and take a few swigs to wash down the pill. “Good. Now, you eat and I’m going to throw on a load of laundry. We’ll talk once you’ve eaten everything.” I nod and pick up the sandwich. “Yes, ma’am,” I reply, taking a mouthful of the turkey sandwich she brought me.
It doesn’t take long for me to scoff down my meal and guzzle down the water, and I can tell my body’s been depleted of nutrients. When Lucille walks back in and sees my lickably-clean plate, she bursts into a fit of giggles. She allows me to relax while she cleans up my mess. She comes back with another water in her hand and sits beside me. Her hand lands on my thigh just above my knee. “All right, finish telling me,” she encourages, giving my knee a few pats.
I take a moment and try to remember where I left the conversation. “Well, I went into Willie’s to grab a few beers. I took a seat in the booth in the back corner to avoid the crowd. I was sitting down taking back a beer and staring at my phone, debating if I should call Allie or wait to see if she was going to call me.” I’m not sure if it’s the food or what, but the information is coming to me easier now; I’m not having to think as hard to remember every little detail. “I was punching Allie’s number when out the corner of my eye; I saw a bare, tan thigh. I looked up and saw this girl who’s been stalking me since I’ve returned home. I only talked to her in the beginning to be friendly, but no matter how many times I blew her off and told her I wasn’t interested, she kept pursuing me every time we crossed paths.”
Lucille nods her head slowly as my bouncing leg picks up speed. She crosses her arms over her chest and nibbles on the side of her bottom lip. “Sophie, huh? It was Sophie that wouldn’t leave you alone?” I nod. “I knew it! That girl’s bad news. I’ve told Allie for years that girl was gonna get her in trouble one day,” she spits. This is what I’ve needed all along, for her to be the mother she has always been. And I know her anger shouldn’t excite me, but it does. Finally, she’s back on my side, where she should’ve been all along. I’ve always expected her to have my back. She always has.
“Yeah. I’m not attracted to her, never have been. When I left the house, I was livid. I forgot my wallet and only had a ten on me. I wanted to get the argument Allie and I had off my mind. When I ran out of money, Sophie offered me drinks, and I accepted. After I had a pretty decent buzz, we danced. I regretted doing it then, and I sure as fuck regret it now … I’ll spare you the details about us on the dance floor, but I remember going back to the table and searching for my phone; I couldn’t find it. Sophie stayed at the booth and ordered another round for us while I went back out to the dance floor in search for my phone.”
Lucille pushes off the couch and paces the floor. Her hands are on her hips and her nostrils flare as she breathes. Her neck and face are turning a soft pink, and I can tell her blood’s boiling. “What do you remember after that, Wyatt? I need you to tell me everything, every little thing that you can remember.”
I plan on telling her everything, but unfortunately, I don’t remember much after that. “I looked for my phone for about ten minutes before I went back to the booth. I sat down and took the beer Sophie gave me, but that’s all I remember. Literally, everything after that beer is nonexistent in my brain. There’s nothing,” I continue.
She paces the floor faster, her pink tint turning red. “Shit. Lord, Jesus, forgive me … just … shit!” she mumbles.
“Listen, we’ve got to get you to a doctor. We’ve got to get you a drug test, and quick.
That little hussy. I can’t believe—”
“Already done,” I interrupt.
“What? When?”
“After you informed me Sophie said we slept together. Even though I don’t remember sleeping with her, I remember waking up naked the morning we found Al.”
The red that’s consuming her neck and face is beginning to fade, just a little. Her body relaxes, and she falls into the recliner next to the couch. “Oh, thank you, Jesus,” she breathes, placing her hands over her heart. “Go on upstairs, take a shower, and get some rest,” she orders.
“I’m going to take a shower, but I’ll be back down once I’m finished. I need to get back to the hospital. I want to be there if she asks for me.”
“No. You need sleep. Our bodies aren’t made to stay awake for days at a time, Wyatt. Clean up, rest up, and I’ll wake you up if I get notice that her condition’s changed.” She waves me off to the stairs.
“Good or bad, promise?”
She nods. “Good or bad, I promise.”
Seven
~Wyatt~
The vibration from my phone startles me, waking me from a much-needed, deep sleep. Seeing an unknown number, I jump up and answer immediately, thinking it could be Allie calling from the hospital. “Hello,” I answer.
“Hey, Cooper. Can we meet up and talk about what happened Friday?” FUCK! Her slutty voice causes me to cringe and vomit to rise into my mouth. Dashing across the hall, I spit it into the sink so that I can answer her.
“We have nothing to talk about. Not a fucking word,” I seethe.
“Uh, yeah, we kind of do,” she retorts. “Allie is in a hospital bed, possibly because of us. We need to figure out what happened and what she saw. My door was wide open the morning we found her; you know … someone was in my apartment.”
I’ve never hated anyone, but I fucking despise her. She’s got some nerve calling here and giving me attitude. “I don’t know what happened between us, or what Allie saw, but you hear me now; I will find out. You fucking hear me?” I roar. Instantly, she disconnects the call and the line goes silent. Good. I have nothing to say to her.