Shelter Me Home

by T. S. Joyce

  When Mayva stumbled to the bar top a fifth time, ankles bending in her impossibly high heels, for yet another round, Farrah shook her head. “Sorry honey, but you are officially cut off.”

  “What?” she slurred indignantly. “I want to talk to Briney. I’ve never been cut off in my life.”

  “You’re cut off,” Briney called from down the counter.

  An inhuman little screech ripped from her throat, and she whacked the bar top with her pink, faux alligator-skin purse.

  “Look, you can stay here as long as you want,” Farrah said. “Go play some pool with your friends and sober up a little.” She plopped a glass of water in front of her. “The more water you drink now, the better you’ll feel in the morning.”

  “I don’t need life advice from some”—she rolled her eyes heavenward as if she were searching for the perfect insult—“skank.”

  “Lovely.” This night was shaping up nicely.

  “I’m taking my business somewhere else.” Jabbing a finger in the air, Mayva nodded to punctuate how serious she should be taken.

  “For the record,” Burtlebey said to Farrah with a belch. “I don’t think you’re a skank.”

  “Definition of a skank,” Mayva said, pointing her pesky finger in the air again. “Scrumbody named Farrah who opens her legs and impregnates herself of different men.”

  Suddenly, Farrah wanted to go to bed and be unconscious. She heaved a sigh. “Even if that made any sense at all, you still can’t have another drink, Mayva. Do you need me to call someone to give you a ride home?”

  “Nope,” she said, popping the p at the end of the word. A keychain with a miniature magic eight ball and stuffed panda bear dangled from her hand. “I’ll drive myself home, skank.”

  “What’s going on?” Aanon asked.

  Mayva stumbled as she turned, and he caught her by the arms. With a drunken smile, she closed her eyes and her head flopped forward onto Aanon’s chest.

  “Did she just go to sleep?” Farrah asked.

  “I just googled the definition of skank,” Burtlebey said with a frown at the glowing screen of his phone. “Mayva wasn’t even close.”

  “Did she call you that?” Aanon asked, struggling to keep the girl upright.

  “Can you find someone to take her home?” Farrah asked. “I really doubt she would be safe on the roads right now.”

  With a tossed look over his shoulder, he lowered Mayva to a swiveling chair and patted the top of her head with a lot less care than he would give to Bruno. “Ben’s three sheets to the wind and so is Audrey. It’s the last hoorah for most everybody here until after the snow dies down. Who even knows when that’ll be? I’m the only one close to sober in this place besides you and Briney.”

  “You just had the one beer?”

  “Yeah. I finished it an hour and a half ago. You want me to take her?”

  “You know where she lives?”

  “Everyone knows where everyone lives in this town.”

  Visions of Mayva drunkenly groping Aanon in the cab of his Chevy almost made her stubborn enough to make her find her own ride home, but the girl was no threat to her. She’d watched Aanon try to escape her all night.

  “I swear, Fennel,” he said, hoisting the petit woman over his shoulder with a grunt. “If she pukes in my truck, you owe me big time.”

  “I owe you anyway because that,” she said waving to the snoring figure tossed over his shoulder like a sack of flour, “is a mess.”

  “And you’re not a skank,” he said before he left.

  “I told you!” Burtlebey exclaimed.

  ****

  Tonight had included the longest three hours in the history of the universe. By the time Farrah closed the bar, split tips with Briney, cleaned the place spotless, and locked up, Aanon still hadn’t returned. As she stood outside the bar awaiting her ride, her worry flared to discomfort. She would have just taken the four-wheeler back home, but apparently Aanon had already loaded it in the truck before he’d gone to escort Mayva home.

  When he finally pulled to the front of the bar, she was dead on her feet, starving, and half-frozen. His apologies were many. Apparently Mayva had tried something with him when he took her inside her house, and he’d had a sit down with her to explain he didn’t feel that way about her. Farrah was tempted to point out the girl was wasted and likely wouldn’t remember how to spell her first name, much less any rebuff from him, but she refrained. In his own way, he’d claimed her by telling Mayva he was unavailable.

  So maybe it wasn’t exactly intelligent to let something so unassuming bring such a rush of pleasure, but this was about as public as they were able to make their relationship, thanks to Erin. The admission that his heart was taken was an unexpected gift Farrah gladly accepted.

  Now, she sat in the warmth of her cabin, staring at the screen of Aanon’s cell phone, just as she had been for the last ten minutes. Why did the thought of talking to Miles scare her so badly? He was an ocean away.

  “Come on,” she growled.

  After all the work she’d been doing, after all the confidence she’d built, she was going to let a man cut her off at the knees? Heck no. With trembling fingers, she pressed the number from memory, held the speaker to her ear, and prayed that he would pick up so she could get this over with. Then again, she was calling him at four in the morning New York time in simultaneous hope that he wouldn’t pick up, so she could go another day without Miles’s taint upon the life she was building.

  “Hello?” he answered in a sleepy voice.

  Damn.

  “Hello, Miles.”

  He lowered his voice, a note of hope ringing in his tone as the sound of fabric rustled against the speaker. “Victoria?”

  Seriously? He’d told her his wife’s name was Laura. Cheating rat bastard.

  “No, this isn’t Victoria. It’s Farrah.”

  He cursed softly into the phone and said, “Hang on.” The sound of a door shutting echoed through the line and moments later he apologized for making her wait.

  “I see you haven’t changed at all,” she said, disappointment filling her at how much time she’d wasted in ignorance.

  “What do you want, Farrah?” he asked.

  “I have something to tell you. Something I probably should’ve told you a long time ago, but I was hurt and angry with you, and I didn’t want you involved in my life. But now it’s not just my life.” Oh God, oh God, here it goes. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m pregnant.”

  A beat of silence stretched between them.

  “Who’s the father?”

  “You. Of course.” Why would she be calling him if he weren’t? Apparently, she’d dated a cheater and an idiot. “Look, I’ve had plenty of time to come to grips with this, so if you need time to mull it over, I completely understand. I just wanted to let you know about the baby, and also that I don’t want anything from you. No child support or financial help of any kind. The baby and I will be fine on our own.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want me to help financially? You know I have the means to pay. I want you comfortable. Where are you? I think we should meet up for lunch and talk about this.”

  She imagined the miles that stood between them and was grateful for the distance. She had to tell him. That was the point of it all, right? To take the power away from Erin and take control of her own life?

  “I’m in Alaska.”

  “Ha ha, funny. No really, where are you?”

  “I went home, Miles.”

  “Your home is in Alaska?”

  “I told you where I grew up countless times. How did you not get that after four years together?” She glared at the crumpled picture of them still sitting half hidden under the bedside table where she’d thrown it.

  “Holy shit, Farrah!” He lowered his voice again and said, “You’re really in Alaska? With my child?”

  “No. I’m in Alaska with my child. You haven’t earned the right to be a present father. What would I tell the child abo
ut you? That daddy can’t visit this month because his real wife doesn’t know he or she exists? I’m not doing that. This is a courtesy call, Miles. You’ve got Victoria and Laura to keep you entertained.”

  “You know Laura and I have been trying for a child for years, Farrah. You can’t keep my own flesh and blood from me.”

  “I can if you sign over your paternal rights. I don’t want money or support of any kind from you. I just want to be free to raise my child. Go back to your life, keep trying for a child with someone you actually respect. Someone you can start a family with. Let me go.”

  “Is there someone else?” Desperation tinged his voice.

  “That’s none of your business. You lost the right to keep tabs on me when you admitted I was your mistress.”

  “Where in Alaska are you? I think we should talk in person and work this out. The child needs a father, and you need to be in New York where he could have a future. There’s nothing for my child in Alaska.”

  “I don’t want you visiting. I don’t want to work things out. You ruined my life, and if I’m going to make the best out of this situation, I have to do it without you. You’re poison Miles. I feel sad and guilty about your wife all the time, but that isn’t on me. That’s on you. Does she even know about me? Does she know about Victoria?” She spat the name. “You aren’t ready to be a father any more than you are ready to be a husband or even a decent man. If you ever cared about me at all, you’ll forget about me and the baby and let me live my life in peace. Goodbye, Miles.”

  “But—”

  She hung up the phone before he could say more. Dropping the phone on the bed like it was a centipede, she stood and glared at it. Her chest heaved and adrenaline pumped through her veins. She’d done it. She’d sounded defiant and strong and brave, but still there was worry. What if he tracked her down? Forced her to come back to New York? Could he do that?

  The vision of raising her baby in the Alaskan mountains wavered. How could he say there was nothing for a child here? Fresh air, miles to run, snaking rivers, and good people weren’t nothing. They were everything.

  Swallowing her fear, she plucked the cell phone from the bed and left to find Aanon. When she glanced at the screen, it said she’d missed picking up three calls, in rapid succession, from Erin. Did she somehow know her treachery and vengeful plans were being sabotaged? Her pet voodoo doll probably told her so.

  The biggest snowmobile sat in disarray with a smattering of grease-smeared parts lying around it, and the hood was up to expose its inner workings. The barn was warmer than outside, but not by much. Lazy snowflakes fell, but by mid-afternoon, the big storm was supposed to hit. Aanon stood with his back to her, cleaning a long, hollow metal tube. His triceps flexed against his fitted, thermal sweater, and the edge of the tattoo she found so seductive, peeked out of his shirt as it had on the first day she’d arrived. A smile stretched her face, and the gesture settled her roiling stomach. By plane, she was a day and a half away from Miles, and he hated flying. Aanon was here, real, steadfast, and the baby was growing and moving as it should. She’d been promoted by Briney, and everything would work out.

  Aanon turned fiery eyes on the doorway, and he froze when he saw her. “You okay?”

  She handed him the phone and nodded. “I think so. It was scary, but I feel relieved that it’s done. I’m not hiding anymore, so the weight of that secret has lifted.” There was still the secret of she and Aanon’s growing relationship, but baby steps.

  Wiping his hands on a rag, he said, “I’m proud of you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “When you first showed up, you were running from the problem, and it dragged you down. Now look at you. You’re free from it.”

  “Not exactly. Erin called a few times while I was on the phone, but I didn’t pick up.”

  His light brows fell as he studied the screen. “Usually when she calls a lot without leaving a voicemail, she really wants to bawl me out for something.”

  “You want me to leave?”

  She turned to do so, but he shook his head. “Nah. It wouldn’t kill her to learn some patience. You want to talk about the phone call?”

  Lifting a new rag, she picked a part and began rubbing it down. “He thought I was Victoria at first.”

  “His wife?”

  “No, his wife’s name is Laura,” she said with a significant look.

  “Piece of work,” he muttered with a look of disgust.

  “Honestly, I was scared I’d still feel something for him. I was afraid if I talked to him, he’d reel me back in like he used to when we were fighting.”

  “But he didn’t?”

  With a shake of her head, she said, “I don’t feel anything but disappointment about him now. Even if I just got closure on my feelings for him, the phone call was worth it.” She set the snowmobile part down and picked up another to clean. “He wants to come visit and work things out in person.”

  The wooden shop table Aanon leaned on creaked under his weight. “How do you feel about him travelling here?”

  “I asked him not to. I don’t want to see him ever again. The baby and I are better off without someone like him in our lives.”

  His approach was slow, measured. “And what about a man like me?”

  Stifling the shiver of pleasure that traveled up her spine, she set the part on the table and clutched onto the edges of his sweater. “You belong in it.”

  His hand cupped her cheek, and she couldn’t find it in herself to care that she’d have smudges. Aanon Falk was looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, was staring at her lips like he couldn’t wait to taste them.

  “I wish—”

  “Don’t,” she begged. “We can’t change the way things happened. All we can do is focus on where we’re going.”

  “Together?”

  She smiled at the seriousness that pooled in the deep ocean color of his eyes. “Together.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The days that followed were long but pleasant. Along with blankets of snow, a quiet reverence fell over the homestead. Hours on end were spent in a chair, curtains pushed aside, watching the falling snow. The silence was the perfect music with which to make decisions. Farrah had made up her mind and couldn’t seem to keep her hands from the curve of her growing belly. Every movement there told of a life, one that would be the most important thing she ever accomplished. She’d washed and folded soft blankets into the cradle, clipped coupons for diapers, and searched the newspaper for baby clothing sales in nearby Homer, and even as far as Anchorage.

  She wasn’t her mother. Believing that, knowing it, was such a certainty, she could let herself fall in love with her baby without fear. She’d made a budget and knew exactly how much she needed to put away for her maternity leave from Briney’s. No matter what she had to do, she would make it work and provide a comfortable life for her tiny family. And she’d do it without Miles’s money.

  Pride surged within her the more solid her plans became. It didn’t matter that she’d been raised without a father and grew up with a mother overflowing with her own demons. It didn’t matter that she’d picked the wrong man. She was the person she was today because of her trials. Believing that brought her closure. She wouldn’t take any of it back because she wouldn’t be strong enough to weather what she had to now without those earlier struggles.

  Aanon had taught her how to prepare for an Alaskan winter in ways Mom hadn’t ever figured out. In the last couple of months, she’d learned more about survival than the rest of her years combined.

  She sat up straighter in the chair when she saw Aanon. He carried two plates, steaming in the cold morning air as Bruno bounced beside him through the snow drifts. It had become a morning ritual that he took his breakfast with her.

  His long legs didn’t suffer the deep snow, and his hair whipped around his face. Under a forest green toboggan, his cheeks were red from the wind and made his eyes look even brighter.

  Luna whine
d, and Farrah hurried to open the door so he wouldn’t have to wait in the cold.

  “Morning,” he greeted just before he pressed his lips against hers. Crisp mint of toothpaste and the clean tang of shaving cream filled her senses.

  A flood of warmth rushed her body despite the chill of the open door. “What did you bring me today?” she asked, lifting the foil cover on one of the plates.

  Fried potatoes, buttered biscuits, eggs, and a thin strip of steak brought an instant rumble from her stomach.

  “You know you’re going to spoil me rotten, don’t you?”

  He laughed and set the plates down. “I’m not exactly able to take you on real dates. The best you get is mediocre food and company.”

  “I prefer this,” she said quietly as she poured them both a cup of coffee.

  “Do you really mean that?” he said, searching her face.

  The flimsy chair groaned under the burden as she sat. “Of course. I did the late night scene and the big fancy dates in New York. It didn’t feel as real as this, though. It didn’t feel important.”

  A slow smile, one that showed a slight dimple in his left cheek, took his face, and he nodded as if he knew exactly what she meant.

  When she couldn’t eat another bite, Aanon finished her leftovers, and she shrugged into her jacket before pulling on thick, fur-lined snow boots. It was getting harder and harder to bend at the waist as her stomach grew. As much as she’d love to stay snuggled up and warm, the animals had to be fed and work performed around the homestead to keep it running.

  When she turned for the door, Aanon, dressed and ready, held her pink toboggan and a pair of warm gloves. “You are ridiculously cute,” he said, pulling her close and unfolding the snow hat for her. When he’d tugged it over her head, he leaned back to admire his work and tucked a rogue lock of hair behind her ear. “You make me feel like a lucky man, Farrah.”