by Rush, Olivia
Christ, what kind of man did that make me? The kind who ran away when the going got tough?
I shifted my cell on the table and clicked the home button, checking my notifications. No text notifications, no voice messages, no missed calls. If she was upset I’d left, she hadn’t shown it.
And that thing she’d wanted to talk to me about? It couldn’t have been that important if she hadn’t followed up after I’d left.
Chapter 35
Rebecca
Sunday morning had dawned bright, and I’d pretty much refused to stay home and mope around the house. I’d called Betsy first thing and requested an all-day shift. I loved cooking, I loved not having to think about everything that’d transpired, and I needed the space in my own head.
“Order up,” I called and placed another plate of the house lasagna on the kitchen window. I dinged the cute silver bell in the window and smiled as the server—Jennifer—fetched it and gave me a cheeky wink.
She was nineteen, working a summer job in Betsy’s diner, and earning her weight in tips. A total star, and pretty much set on heading out to LA to become the next Southern belle to grace the silver screen.
I didn’t envy her, but I did admire that spirit.
Ah, youth. She’s got a spring in her step.
“Sheesh, girl, it’s not like you’re seventy,” I muttered as I moved on to the next order. But the pressure of the pregnancy reveal and the fact that I didn’t really have any prospects weighed heavily on my shoulders.
I had the house now, which would be a lovely place to raise a child, but the bills? The money to pay for food, for diapers, for everything my baby would need? The moral support? That was still up in the air.
Sure, Peggy had offered me her home, but that wasn’t truly what I wanted. I needed my own life, not to piggyback off hers while I tried figuring out what to do next.
I had to find a way to make this work.
“So much for not thinking about it.”
The kitchen door opened, and Betsy stepped inside. “Are you talking to yourself again?” she asked.
I grinned sheepishly and moved over to the fryer to check how the fries were doing.
“She’s been doing it all morning,” Chandra—the other cook—said and rolled her eyes. “Muttering things to herself under her breath. I’m on the brink of calling in an exorcist.”
“I don’t need an exorcist,” I said. “I need deliverance.”
Chandra popped a hip and patted her kitchen cap, which held her braids in place. “Girl, them’s one and the same thing.”
Betsy and I burst out laughing, and Chandra gave a cheeky wink before returning to her station—she was on pastas and rice tonight and killing it with every plate she sent out. We worked well together, the atmosphere never chaotic but always busy.
“Chan, you think you can handle it in here for fifteen minutes while the crazy over here takes her break?” Betsy asked.
“But I don’t need a break,” I replied.
“Of course you do,” Betsy said. “Wanna know why? Because I said so, hon. Now scoot. Out the back. Take a non-smoke break. I’ll come out in a few to talk to you.”
Oh boy. That could only mean one thing. Betsy wanted to ask me how I was doing. Gosh, I wasn’t sure I had the energy to talk about anything right now. She’d given me so much support yesterday, though, that I wouldn’t be able to say “no.”
I made for the back door, keeping my apron on in case Chandra called for help, then opened up and stepped out into the warm evening air. The sun had just set, and dark and light argued over the last remnants of the day. The lampposts clicked on in the street, as did the light above the back entrance of Betsy’s diner.
The alleyway was kept clean at all times—Betsy took that type of thing seriously, which I admired—and the chain-link fence a few feet away provided a sparse perimeter between the restaurant and the empty park beyond. The chirp of crickets accompanied me.
I stepped down and walked across the short alley then leaned my arms atop the fence and stared out into the darkness at the trees.
These quiet moments were ones I lived for. I inhaled deeply, held the breath, then exhaled again, relishing the serenity. At times like these, everything seemed simple. I had the baby, and the baby would have me, and I’d have work, and things would be OK.
There would be nights like this, precious moments of peace. There would be good times and hard times, and we’d make it through.
I reached down and touched my stomach. “I got you, babe.”
“Talking to yourself?” The sneer of her voice was unmistakable. Tabitha’s heels clicked down the back alley toward me, and I turned to face her. She was in true Barbie doll form, her hair silken and falling around her shoulders in platinum blonde waves, her eyes shimmering by the light from the outdoor wall sconce. “Going mad without Mason?”
“What do you want?” I asked. “I’ve got a job to do, Tabitha, and no time to waste on you.”
“What do I want?” Tabitha asked. “I want you to realize that this isn’t over yet. I’ll never let you get away with what you’ve done.”
“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything.”
Tabitha folded her skinny arms across her ample breasts. “Oh. Nothing, huh? Then how come you were over at Mason’s house on Friday night? You interrupted an important conversation between us, and you had zero shame about it. Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I have to say…” I trailed off, shaking my head, a smile tugging at my lips. “I have to say…that you are a total fucking loon. It’s none of your business what I do or where I go. So, why don’t you cut the crap and tell me the real reason you’re here.”
Tabitha pouted those too-thick lips at me. “You know why I’m here, homewrecker.”
“Right, right, right,” I said and pointed at her. “You’re afraid that I’m going to steal Mason away from you, even though he’s not really yours.”
“You want me to show you how much he’s mine?” Tabitha stepped forward, heels clacking as she did. “He got me pregnant while he was seeing you. What does that tell you? Clearly, you couldn’t satisfy his every need. I mean, I can’t even understand why he’s bothered with you. Probably because I rejected him. He was in a dry spell.” She pointed at me, the tip of her fingernail connecting with my uniform blouse. “But that’s over now. I’m back, and you will stay away from him, or you’ll both regret it.”
“Are you kidding?” I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Tabitha, I honestly don’t care anymore. I don’t care about you or anything you have to say, and if Mason did get you pregnant, which I highly doubt, by the way, then I…wouldn’t care about that either. It doesn’t change anything.” Except the fact that Mason would have two kids to contend with and I would be so brokenhearted my world would collapse. And I’d have to piece it all together again.
But hey, at least I’d already had some experience with that.
Tabitha stared at me as if she couldn’t quite understand that I didn’t care. Couldn’t fathom that I wouldn’t want to compete with her on some weird psycho level.
Finally, she took a single step back and crossed her arms again. “Well, that’s good,” she said, wiggling her head in what she likely assumed was a bad girl attitude. It looked put-on. “You just keep it that way and stay away from my man.”
The back door of the restaurant swung open and Betsy tottered down the steps. She stopped at the sight of Tabitha out back. “Hmm, it seems I’ve opened a door into another, bitchier, universe,” Betsy said from the top step.
The blonde shot her a look equal parts disdain and trepidation. Was Tabitha afraid of Betsy?
“Didn’t I tell you you’re not allowed in my restaurant?” Betsy asked.
“I’m not in your restaurant,” Tabitha countered. “I’m outside.”
“Well, you’re right about that. Seems like I wasn’t clear enough with you, little miss. You’re not
to set foot in my restaurant or on my property. I have the right to reserve admission to anyone I choose, and if you break my rules, I’ll have you removed from my property.”
“You and whose army?” Tabitha challenged, teetering on those heels.
Chandra appeared in the doorway behind Betsy, and the blonde paled, cleared her throat. “Fine,” she sniffed. “I’ve already done what I came here to do. I’m not going to waste any more time on you or any of your loser friends.” Tabitha tossed her head, then clacked off down the alley and away from me, at last.
I exhaled and leaned back against the chain-link fence, shaking my head. “She just won’t quit.”
“She never knew how to quit,” Betsy replied. “It’s one of her many terrible qualities.”
Chandra grinned behind Betsy, watching the diva strut out of sight. “I’d be happy to teach her sometime. How to quit, if y’all know what I mean.”
Betsy turned around and placed a hand on her chef’s forearm. “Thank you, darlin’, but that won’t be necessary. Mind giving me a few moments alone with our girl here?”
“Suit yourself,” Chandra said then disappeared back into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind her.
Shoot. Here we go. I have to talk about it now.
Betsy trotted down the back steps and joined me at the fence. Together, we turned and looked out over the park, lit now by the lights along the path that wound between the trees and around a small water fountain.
Idyllic, even with mosquitoes to contend with.
Betsy waved a hand in front of her face lazily, and the quiet between us stretched out further.
“I’m fine,” I said. “We don’t need to talk about Mason or anything.”
“Oh, honey, no. I wasn’t going to talk to you about Mason,” Betsy said. “What goes on between you two is your own personal business. I wanted to know if you’re comfortable. If you need any time off. If any of the smells from the kitchen bother you?”
“No, nothing like that. I get nauseous at night, usually when I get home, but nothing so far today,” I said, tracing the top of the fence post with my fingernail. “I guess the physical stuff is there, but I’m not as worried about it.”
“I see,” Betsy said. “Now, dear, don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe you should be focused on the symptoms instead of all the other Mason-related stuff. After all, the pregnancy isn’t going to go away anytime soon. It might be time for you to go see a doctor.”
I cringed. The only doctors I knew in this town were Crown, Mason, and that creep Perry. I didn’t see myself visiting any of them anytime soon. Especially not for this.
“Oh my, you’ve gone pale. You know, I’m not talking about the doctors in Stoneport, hon. Mary has a lovely ob-gyn down in New Orleans. I can get the number for you, and you can make an appointment. You’ll need prenatal meds soon, and you can get a sonogram done. Check that everything’s going as it should be. Healthy and all that. Does that sound good to you?”
I exhaled. Getting an appointment had been on my mind, but I’d been a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of going and making this real.
“That sounds… That sounds perfect, Betsy. Thank you so much.”
“We ladies have got to stick together,” she said and gave me a quick hug. “Now, get your butt back in the kitchen. I’ve got a table of ten hankering for your shrimp special, and I know Chandra can’t cook it as well as you can. God, don’t ever tell Chandra I said that.”
I laughed, the humor flooding me with warmth. “Your secret’s safe with me,” I said and zipped the lip.
So, that was the next step. The ob-gyn. And it was in New Orleans, which meant I wouldn’t have to be alone. In fact, Peggy would probably be mad at me for going without her.
Regardless, things had lined up. I was on a course toward a specific destination, and I had no idea if Mason would ever meet me there.
Chapter 36
Rebecca
“Why am I so nervous?” I whispered as I lay in the strange gynecologist’s chair, my clothes stripped off and replaced by a strange flappy, crinkling gown. “I shouldn’t be this nervous, should I?”
“I don’t know, sis, it’s kind of a big deal. I was nervous as heck the first time I came for a sonogram,” Peggy replied. She stood beside me and held my hand, periodically checking her cell phone as if she expected a call. “All I can say is that it’s a good thing you’re doing this. Oh, and that I can’t believe you went ahead and found an ob-gyn before I could suggest one.”
“Yeah, you’ve only mentioned that about one hundred million times.”
“I’ll never let you forget it.”
The doctor was due any minute, but we were alone for now, and Peg was determined to pry every bit of information out of me that she could. Which was to say, everything related to Mason, Stoneport, and whether I was actually going to give up my crazy dream to stay in Gran and Grandpa’s house alone with no one but a yellow lab and eventual baby for company.
“So,” Peg said, circling the chair, then heading over to one of the posters on the wall. She turned her head this way and that, inspecting the inner workings of the womb up close and entirely too personal. “Have you thought about it anymore?”
“Thought about what?” I asked, drawing out the inevitable.
“Oh, come on, sis. About everything.” She turned back to me, spreading her arms wide. “I mean, look where we are right now. In a gynecologist’s office with you laid out on the chair like a sacrificial lamb.”
“Hey!”
“I’m just saying.” Peg shrugged. “Whatever, I thought it was a good metaphor. Have you heard from the douche canoe with the hot body yet?”
“Has anyone ever told you you have a way with words?” I fussed around with my crinkle-paper gown, avoiding my sister’s gaze. God, why did everyone want to force me into making some goddamned decision?
I hadn’t had a chance to think about anything myself. I’d found out I was pregnant on Friday. It was a Monday morning, and already everyone expected me to have all the answers to their questions. Next, she’d be asking me if I wanted a water birth or natural, or if Mason would cut the umbilical cord or gnaw it off with his teeth.
Ew. Jesus.
“I’m serious, sister. Let’s talk about this.”
“I’m kind of busy with something right now,” I said, gesturing to the dress thingie. “I’m sure the doctor will be along any moment.”
“I just want to know whether you’ve come to your senses or not. You’re here because of this dude, and he still hasn’t contacted you.”
“He doesn’t know to contact me,” I said—not that I had any qualms about defending Mason. “He doesn’t know anything, and I’m not comfortable talking to him about it on the phone, regardless. I’ll wait for him to come back and then we’ll talk. You know that.”
“Do I?” Peggy shook her head. “I’m just—this is—I’m so angry for you. I’m so furious that this guy has treated you like this.”
“We both made fuck-ups,” I said honestly.
I’d pushed him away, and he’d done the same to me. We’d tugged toward each other too, and the pull had been too magnetic. Too overwhelming.
“Don’t make excuses for him. He should’ve given you a chance to talk to him. He shouldn’t have left without sending you a message at least. I mean, what did you say he was doing? Going for a job interview?”
I nodded. “Probably in Vermont.”
“So he’s already prepared to run away. That doesn’t exactly speak to his strength of character.”
“Can we not talk about this right now, please?” I asked.
“Why not? It seems pretty relevant given the situation.”
I lifted myself on one elbow and glared at my sister. “Jesus, Peggy, I’m lying here, pussy out, on a doctor’s examination chair thing, and all you can do is lecture me about my future. I messed up. I get it. I get it, OK? But I’m taking responsibility for my mistakes, and I’ll be damned if I sit here and
endure a lecture from you. I know what you got up to in high school. Those in glass houses and all of that.”
“I’m not trying to lecture you!”
“Oh, well, you must just be a natural at it, then,” I snapped and pushed hair back from my forehead. God, why was I so angry? And hot all over? “Just take it easy, OK? Just give me a fucking break.”
“I’m trying to!” Penny spat back. “But you won’t let me. I just want you to give up on this Stoneport pipedream and come and stay with me until you’re on your feet. I do not like the idea of you living next door to this fuckface who knocked you up and won’t take your calls.”
“Oh. My. God. Do you have cabbage leaves for ears? I haven’t tried to call him. I don’t want to talk to him over the phone!” It came out higher than I intended, and I struggled to maintain my grip on my temper.
Peggy, as much as I loved her, had always had this effect on me. It was the sister thing. She knew just how to infuriate me, and I was at my breaking point.
“You should’ve just called him,” Peggy said. “He needs to know what an asshole he is.”
“Leave it alone,” I growled.
“How can I when I know what you have to go through while he’s doing god knows what with god knows who out there? Probably getting another girl pregnant.”
“Peggy.”
“If you’d just stay with me, then I’d know that you’d be fine and that—”
“Peggy, shut up!” I roared, finally breaking past the barrier of no return. “For fuck’s sake. We’re both pregnant and hormonal. Surely you understand this is not the best time to get into it with each other. For Christ’s sake, can I have one fucking millisecond to think on my own without someone telling me what I should do? I am thirty motherfucking years old. I can make my own damn decisions. Now, please, for the love of all that is holy, be quiet before I get off this chair and slap you purple and blue.”