CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

HALEY

Barry calls around lunchtime.

I don’t waste time giving him a piece of my mind. My tone is biting. “Oh, so I still work there?”

He’s not used to New Haley, momentarily dumbstruck. “Ah, well, yes. Of course.”

“Now that it’s convenient…”

A pause, followed by, “Yes. Look, I’m calling in all hands after the weather, full shifts.”

I sit up straighter in the dining room chair. “I’m going to need time-and-a-half, owing to wages lost because of the storm and all.”

My heart pounds waiting. I never push for this kind of thing.

I hear him exhale. “Okay. Sure,” he replies, allowing me to breathe out in relief. “I need you down here real bad. I’ve got folks coming in from every direction, rooms that aren’t ready…”

“I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

“And when might that be?”

“As soon as I am ready,” I tell him, hanging up smiling at my newfound confidence. I spot myself in the mirror on the wall, the one with ‘Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be filled with joy’ above it. “Where have you been all my life?” I ask myself.

My smile disappears when two problems come to mind. One, working is still not going to help me save the house, and two, Dane might be at the motel.

And if he is?

I figure if he is I’ll avoid him. It won’t be hard given the work on hand.

Andy’s flying his toy plane around his head, his lips puckered together making the same Brrrr Brrrr sound Dane did when he showed him what to do. Ever since Andy woke up he’s been asking about Dane, his head tilted quizzically to the side.

I sit watching him with a coffee in my hands, sadly not the same without Dane’s magic touch. I’m missing that touch in other places, too.

“Okay, little man,” I tell Andy. “Let’s go see Mrs. Ainsworth, shall we?”

*

I’ve got my fingers crossed when I head next door that Nancy will answer, tell me her Mom is miraculously out and that yes, she would love to mind Andy, but there’s no such luck.

After some time, Mrs. Ainsworth reluctantly pulls open the door, looking at me sideways with a sneer. “It’s you.”

“And Andy, yes.”

She leans on one foot. I can see the TV playing Days of Our Lives down the back. “I suppose you want someone to babysit, dontcha?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Is Nancy around?”

“Skating with her girlfriends.”

“Would you be able to mind him? I’ll pay. I promise.”

A short “humpf” follows. “Now, you see, the dog’s real sick, plus I’m real busy down back.”

I look past her shoulder at the TV. “I can see.”

She’s enjoying this. “So, no. I don’t think I can.”

“Please, Mrs. Ainsworth. I’m in a real bind.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Aren’t you always, Haley Walker, and where’s your mystery man? Gone already?”

Normally, I would take this and apologize profusely, do everything short of get down on my hands and knees and beg, but not today.

I straighten up and smile back. “I suppose, Mrs. Ainsworth, after all the times I’ve come over to help you haul stuff around, fix your computer for the fiftieth time, feed your dog… None of that matters, right, because I’m just silly ol’ Haley Walker, ‘the help’? In a few days we’ll be gone for good, anyhow.”

Poor Mrs. Ainsworth is so shocked that for a second I’m genuinely concerned she’s going to keel over in front of me.

Andy giggles.

Mrs. Ainsworth’s face lights up beet red with shame. “I, I—” she stutters. “I suppose—” but I don’t let her finish.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Ainsworth,” I tell her, turning and walking back to the house.

Suddenly, everything is clear. There’s clarity in my thoughts I haven’t felt in years.

Is working a shift at the motel really going to change anything? I ask myself. It won’t put a single dent in the mortgage, will it? So, what’s the point?

Not to mention I’d almost certainly run into Dane, as Murphy’s Law goes.

I head inside and call up Barry. He’s none too pleased about what I have to say, but he’s doesn’t make a point of it after our last call.

I hang up and let out a long exhale. Andy looking up at me from the floor, using a chair leg to help himself get to his feet. “See,” I tell him. “Momma’s not a pushover after all.”

I pick up the phone again and call the Greyhound office, asking for a ticket to Tulsa as soon as possible. They tell me they don’t expect to have any buses running until right before Christmas. I tell them that’s fine, to book regardless.

I realize I’ve spent almost the last of our money on the bus tickets when I place the phone back on the wall. I look around at my parents’ home, our home. It’s scary to think I’m finally leaving this place—this house, this town, my town, but maybe Dane was right. I just have to cut ties and leave it all behind.

My chest pulls thinking of Dane, of the courage he helped me find, the pleasure I was missing both in the bedroom and out.

You’re better off without him, I remind myself. Men like that are always going to let you down.

I clap my hands together. “Come on, little man. We’ve got packing to do.”