Ginny
2002, North Carolina
I scanned the waiting room looking for Grizz, the news I’d just received still not sinking in.
“That’s not possible! Please check again, Tammy,” I’d begged of the nurse who was offering me an understanding smile. She was Grizz’s second cousin and had been there with her family at Micah’s that first day we’d met him. She was also one of the women at the Bunco night I’d attended.
“I’d be glad to check again, Ginny, but I’m pretty sure it’s accurate. I’ll have the doctor come back in.”
I now spotted Grizz in a corner, huddled in conversation with a man I didn’t recognize. I stiffened as I realized his body posture while talking to the man brought on a sense of déjà vu—of when he used to conduct business around the pit. He sensed me staring and looked up. My expression must have startled him because he jumped up, and came to me.
“I’ll tell you in the car,” I mumbled as I headed for the door, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone in the waiting room.
I was walking so fast his long legs were having trouble keeping up with me.
“Who was that?” I asked a little too sharply when we got outside.
“Merlin Shoup. Ginny, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you sick?”
He unlocked and opened the car door for me.
I shot him a look, suspicion coursing through me. “What were you talking about?”
He slammed the car door shut and quickly walked to the driver’s side to let himself in.
“He asked how long we’d be visiting.” Before I could ask why Merlin Shoup was interested in our visit, he added, “He found two hunting dogs that were either abused by the elements or by their owner. The only shelter two towns over wants to put them down. Shoup heard through Micah that I have a way with animals, and he wanted to know if I’d be here long enough to foster them, try and rehabilitate them. Okay? Now tell me what’s wrong!”
Oh. I flushed, guilt washing over me. I swallowed and chanced a glance at him. I didn’t know how he would take the news I was about to tell him. This was certainly going to put an end to the honeymoon phase of our marriage. I was starting to feel overheated and asked him if he would start up the car and turn on the air conditioning. He did, and the radio immediately started blaring “I’m No Angel” by Gregg Allman. Grizz gave me a sheepish smile and turned it off.
“I’m pregnant, Grizz. I’m pregnant.” I let out a long breath. “I mean, I can’t believe it. I was certain I was missing periods because I was entering menopause. I mean, I’m in my early forties! But apparently, it wasn’t menopause. It was stress, and I was still ovulating. I just don’t know what to say. I’m just so shocked at myself for being so irresponsible. I didn’t even think to use birth control.”
He hit the dashboard so hard I jumped.
“Hot fucking damn! Are we going to have a baby, Kit?”
I looked at him then, and he was smiling so hard I thought his cheeks must hurt. I could only nod. He pulled me close to him over the console of the Chevelle, taking my face in his hands and kissing my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my chin.
“I didn’t think you could make me any happier, Kit. Thank you, baby. Thank you for a chance to raise a child with you. Thank you.”
I was still in a state of shock when we got back to Micah’s and announced it to the kids. They were more excited than Grizz.
The realities were beginning to sink in. I wanted, needed to let him know what having a baby meant. The responsibilities, the exhaustion, the lack of sleep, the midnight runs to the pharmacy.
But he countered every negative with a positive. I was starting to get butterflies of excitement as I realized he really did want this child. Thank you, Lord. One last thing occurred to me, and I figured I might as well throw it out there.
“You know, people will think we are this child’s grandparents.”
“Fuck what people will think.” Grizz looked at me, still smiling. “Ginny—we’re having a baby!”
Later that night, the whole family was sitting in Micah’s living room watching “That ‘70s Show.” We were chatting about our move during the commercials. We’d planned on staying at Micah’s for just a few more days and were discussing when Micah would be bringing Grizz’s car and bike out to Montana when Jason asked, “Do we need to leave so soon? I’m having fun here. Aren’t you, Mimi?”
“Huh?” Mimi was curled up in a chair with her nose in a book. She blinked, looked around.
“Are you having fun here?” Jason asked. “I asked Mom and James if we can stay a little longer. I like it here.”
“Yeah, I like it here a lot, too.” Mimi closed her book. “I’m going to have to say goodbye to cousins who are better friends than I ever had in Florida.”
“See? Mimi wants to stay longer, too. Do we need to leave so soon?”
Micah piped up, “Do you need to leave at all?”
The room was quiet, and then both Mimi and Jason started talking over each other as Micah’s suggestion that we stay in North Carolina took root.
“I know you mean well,” Grizz said. “But nobody knows us in Montana. We’re looking to make a fresh start.”
“Exactly,” Micah said. “Nobody knows you. No family. Nobody to rely on. Nobody that will have your back if you need them to. I know why you want to move, and I understand, but I don’t think you realize your anonymity in another state can’t protect you like your kin. You weren’t raised here, but you’re family. And nobody messes with family.”
I could see Grizz thinking this over.
“Gri—James, maybe we should at least consider it.” I put a hand on his arm.
Truthfully, the thought of the cross-country move in my weakened state seemed like a bit much. And was it wrong of me to admit I liked having a family?
Before Grizz could reply, Micah said something that caused the room to grow quiet.
“You can be Grizz and Kit here. And don’t everybody look at me like that. I know those are your nicknames for each other, and not only have I caught you both almost slipping, I hear you when you don’t think anybody’s listening.”
I gulped and looked from Micah to Mimi and then finally to Jason, who to my surprise was nodding and smiling.
“I know he’s your big old grizzly bear, and she’s your kitten.” Micah looked at us pointedly. “You have nicknames for each other. That’s fine and dandy, and we don’t care. Nobody on top of this mountain cares. Stop acting like you have to hide from your past.” He waved a hand toward the kids. “A life you have to hide from is no life at all.”
I understood what he was doing, and I appreciated it. He’d explained the nicknames away as simple pet names, but I knew one day Jason—and probably even the baby I was carrying—would know the truth. All the truth.
Micah was right. Living a life in hiding would not be living at all. I believed Micah. I believed in the sanctuary this mountain offered. I could only hope Grizz believed in it, too. I didn’t want to leave.
**********
The next day, Mimi and Jason were picked up to visit some of the places where the movie “Deliverance” was filmed. None of us had ever watched the movie, but after last night’s discussion, Micah thought they would enjoy seeing what this area looked like back in the seventies, so he popped in a DVD and pointed out the scenes that were shot nearby. The kids were fascinated by the fact that an entire town was relocated to make room for a lake. I had to agree. Even though I didn’t care for the theme of the movie, I had to admit that moving an entire town was pretty interesting.
Aunt Tillie had joined the three of us after the kids left for their day trip, and we now sat around the kitchen table talking about the real possibility of moving here. Every time Micah tried to say something, she’d cut him off.
“Micah can come live with me, and you can have this place,” she said in a voice indicating there would be no further discussion on the subject.
“Oh, no!” I said. “We can definitely get our own house. We may be homeless right now, but we’re not poor by any means.”
“Nonsense.” Aunt Tillie waved a hand. “This house is perfect for the four of you, soon to be five. Besides—”
“Matilda!” Micah’s face was red, and he turned to stare at her. “Is your bun too tight, sister? Will you please for the love of the good Lord, who is my all and my everything, shut up and let me get a word in?”
Aunt Tillie huffed her indignation at the reprimand and nodded when Micah thanked her for shutting her pie hole.
“As my older sister was telling you, this house is perfect for you. I’m tired of taking care of all this property. It belongs to you anyway, son. I had everything taken care of after your last visit. It’s all yours.”
I mulled it over. “Well, if we did move in, couldn’t you just stay here with us? It’s obviously big enough.” I looked at Grizz, and he nodded.
Aunt Tillie folded her arms. “No, because—”
“Matilda!” Micah’s voice had grown even more agitated. He turned to me. “I’m used to living alone, Ginny, and this ain’t an insult because I love when you’re here, but let’s just say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
I heard Aunt Tillie mutter “old dog for sure” under her breath. I smiled.
“And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I can get more used to living with Matilda than four people and a new baby.” I knew he wasn’t telling the truth, and he knew I knew, but he smiled at me. “Besides, honey, this is new for all four of you. You’ll need your space.”
“That’s what I was going to say!” Aunt Tillie said.
Micah rolled his eyes and winked at me.
I wasn’t happy with the thought of displacing Micah from his home, but he was adamant. It was settled. Grizz would have Bill take care of getting our things shipped here from Montana, as well as the kids’ school transcripts, then erase any electronic evidence. He couldn’t erase any hard copies of paperwork, although I had to admit he’d done a great job back in the eighties when he’d personally sabotaged files about Grizz stored on microfiche. But I seriously didn’t think anybody would ever go to all that trouble to find us. After all, Grizz was dead, and I didn’t have any real ties left undone.
I did have one last delicate request, and I felt a little funny bringing it up, especially since Micah was a minister, and I didn’t know if this was considered sacrilegious or not. Aunt Tillie had considered the matter settled and had already left for her afternoon bridge game at the local library.
“Umm, Micah?” I asked.
“Yes, sweet pea,” he answered, using his new nickname for me. I could tell he was giddy with excitement that we’d agreed to move here, and to be honest, I felt the same way. It just felt right.
“I guess you know by now we’re not what most would consider a conventional family.” I cleared my throat. “So I doubt this is a conventional request.”
“What is it, Ginny?” Curiosity shone in his eyes.
“Well, Grizz asked me what I wanted for a wedding present, and I told him I didn’t want anything, but that’s not exactly true.”
I glanced at Grizz for reassurance. He nodded at me to continue.
“I wanted him to promise me he’d find a way when we finally settled in our new home.” I hesitated. “That—that he’d find a way to bring our loved ones with us.”
I could tell Micah was confused. I rushed on.
“I mean, our loved ones that have passed away. Tommy, Ruthie. My mother and stepfather. I can’t stand the thought of leaving them in Florida. I can’t imagine anyone will ever visit their graves.”
I wouldn’t meet his eyes and looked down at the table, stretching my arms out in front of me. I nervously twirled my wedding and engagement rings. I was asking for a secret exhumation of not just one or two graves, but four.
I felt Micah’s warm hand reach out and grab my forearm, pulling it toward him. I looked up and didn’t see disgust or condemnation. I saw tears.
“You have the biggest heart of any person I’ve ever met, Ginny. It’s not as uncommon as you might think. I’m certain we can work something out. I know our family graveyard has plenty of room for some more kin.”
I smiled and had to blink back my tears.
“My suggestion would be that we have it done quietly,” Micah said. “leave their headstones where they’re at and have new ones made for here.”
“Thank you, Micah.” I stood to give him a hug. “Thank you so much.”
“Family is family, and we take care of our own, Ginny. And if you’re our own, then so are they.”