Chapter 6
Céline Dion's All By Myself came on the radio just as I pulled off highway 90 towards my hometown. I blindly punched at buttons until the damn song stopped playing. I loved me some Céline but damn, that song was like throwing the remaining pieces of my heart in a blender to make a lonely dinner if depression for one.
I bumped along the gravel road leading to Babs’ house serenaded only by the sound of Kevin's snores. I hadn't called to let her know I was coming, but as I pulled up, I spotted her sitting in her rocking chair on the front porch with a bottle of vodka in her hand like she'd been expecting me.
No words were spoken as I jumped out of the truck, leaving Kevin snoozing in his little nest and made my way up the porch steps. She handed me the bottle of vodka without a word.
After a few hearty slugs Babs snapped her fingers at me. “No camping.”
I reluctantly took one last swig and passed the bottle back to her.
She closed her bad eye, sizing me up with the foggy, but less cataract one. “You going to tell me why you show up here in middle of night?”
Letting my head fall back against the dilapidated porch railing I gazed up at the clear swamp sky. This far out in the sticks, away from the lights and noises of the city, you could actually see the stars, and hear the songs of the creatures who called the swamp home. It was beautiful, and as much as I loved living in the city, I missed home. “I was hoping I didn't have to.”
“Come now tell Babs problem.”
I groaned and scrubbed the tears from my cheeks. “It's Pope.”
She clucked her tongue at me, shaking her head. “Always problems with dick.”
“Ya Ya!” I yelled, snatching the bottle out of her hand and taking another swig. “Fuck men and their stupid lies. Let's get drunk!”
Babs gave me a gummy grin, she must've already taken her teeth out for the night. “Vodka to fix everything.”
I snorted, vodka was the Dubois cure all for everything that ailed you. We sat passing the bottle back-and-forth and I listen to Babs rattle on about the assholes in the town. The Sheriff had come down last week to tell her that if she shot another alligator without a permit he'd have to arrest her. Naturally, she’d told him to go fuck himself and that she would continue to do whatever she damn well pleased. Like Sheriff Tucker would actually haul off an 85-year-old woman to jail, it’d be the talk of the town.
“I almost forget!” Babs yelled, jumping up out of her chair. The little doll she’d been whittling fell to the ground with a clatter. “I be right back.” She speed waddled into the house, crop dusting me on the way. I stared at the wooden doll on the ground wearily, I wasn't certain, but I was slightly terrified that she’d been making a miniature Pope voodoo doll.
Babs pushed open the screen door and peeked her head out. “Ready?”
I was about seven sheets to the wind so I just gave her a sloppy smile and nodded. I had to squint through the vodka haze and the dim glow of the porch light to make her out. When I was finally able to focus, I saw that she was holding a leash.
What the fuck?
I followed the line of the black leash down, down, down, until…OH MY FUCKING GOD! I crab walked backwards as fast as I could, clamoring up onto the railing. “What the fuck Babs? Have you finally lost your fatherfucking mind?”
Oh man I was so not looking forward to having to commit her.
“What? You have pet pig, I have pet gator, his name fluffy.”
“There are so many things wrong with that fucking sentence. You keep a fucking man eating animal inside your house?”
Babs just rolled her eyes at me. “Only nighttime, don't want him hurt.”
She’d finally done it, she’d taken it too far and there was no coming back. “You don't want the vicious modern-day dinosaur to get hurt? You've got to be fucking kidding me. I'm in the fucking twilight zone.”
“When Pappy die and my girls leave again, I have no one. Pisshole sheriff say I can't shoot gators, so I got one for pet that keep me company!”
I instantly felt the lead weight of guilt settle in my stomach. “Aww Babs, if you're lonely call me. Addie and I can drive down for the weekend.”
“No, my girls don't have time to waste with sad old lady. You have bearded clam digger and officer Mc fuck nut.”
Shame washed over me, we’d come back only to move away again, leaving our poor grandmother all by herself.
God we were assholes.
I was ready to keep beating myself up when I caught the twinkle in Babs good eye, right before she let out what could only be described as a warrior cry. I had to get her to stop watching Xena.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“A little guilt good for you. Is fine, I got my vodka and now I have fluffy,” she said simply, as if she were talking about a companion dog instead of a swamp monster.
“Dear God will you put that thing away so I can get off the damn railing? I'm about to jump out of my fucking skin.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Babs grumbled, turning to head back inside.
As soon as the beast’s tail cleared the front door, I jumped back down, fully intent on continuing my pity party. I wasn't sure if there was enough booze in the world to drown out the memory of seeing my grandmother with an alligator on a leash, but I sure as hell was going to try.
***
The smell of frying bacon pulled me from my comatose state. I shifted and groaned at the creaking beneath me. I was on Babs’ couch. The 80s monstrosity covered in a protective plastic sheeting to prevent its untimely demise. I tried to sit up but it felt like my face had melted into the plastic overnight. Slowly, I peeled my cheek off, the devil plastic taking at least three layers of my skin hostage in the process. I stretched and made the mistake of rolling, completely misjudging the width of the couch and unceremoniously dumping my ass on the floor.
I landed with a thud and more groaning. My head was pounding harder than a forty-year-old virgin with a hooker and my mouth tasted like roadkill. The perfect beginning to what was sure to be an amazingly shitty day.
“Oh good you're up,” my mother’s chipper voice sounded from above me.
Am I still asleep? What the fuck is Mama doing here?
I cracked open one mascara crusted eye and peered at the blurry figure hovering above the couch where I had been sleeping a moment ago.
“Mom?” I croaked, sounding like my voice box had been thrown through a wood chipper. “What are you doing here? Did I go to your house? Where am I?”
I could feel rather than see her giving me the disappointed mom face. “Glad to see you didn't die if alcohol poisoning.”
My stomach flipped and summersaulted down the rabbit hole at the mention of alcohol.
Oh, God, make it stop.
“Mama, please don't.” I gagged, but forced myself to reel it in. On top of everything, I wasn’t going to disappoint Babs by being the pussy who made it through a whole night of drinking without losing it just to blow chunks the next morning. I was better than that
“Oh dear, are you going to be sick? Let me get a bowl.”
I waved a hand at her in protest. “I'm fine.”
She twisted the dish towel in her hands nervously. My mother had Addie’s caretaking tendencies times a hundred. If she wasn’t fretting over someone, she was cleaning or fixing something in the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?”
Door number three it is with a healthy dash of door number one.
“Yes, please, you sweet, sweet woman.”
“Do you want decaf?”
What in the actual fuck? I’m hungover and its God knows fuck o’clock. This is not the time for decaf, woman.
The sound of Babs snort followed by her spitting in disgust came from somewhere beyond the living room. “Drinking decaf is like going to hooker for pull job.”
Good ol’ Babs, I can always count on you to have my back.
I hooked a thumb in the general vicinity of Babs hacking cough-laugh. “What she said.”
My mother tsked in disapproval and scurried off to the kitchen, God bless her soul. My mother was the quintessential southern housewife. She went to church twice a week, volunteered for charity events, and made sure that my father had three home-cooked meals a day. She was practically Betty fucking Crocker. How she managed to deal with having Babs as a mother-in-law without stroking out before she turned forty, I'd never know.
She came back bearing a steaming mug of coffee that smelled like heaven.
“Thanks, Mama.” I scooted over to make room for her on the couch, but instead of sitting down, she started to fold the blankets I’d used the night before. My mother never could relax if there were things that needed tidying.
I took a sip and almost orgasmed. Liquid gold, with the perfect about a cream sugar, just like I liked it. “Goddamn, woman! You know how to make a cup of coffee.”
She scowled at me. “Savannah Dubois, what have I told you about taking the Lords name in vain?”
Has the poor woman learned nothing?
I wagged a finger in her direction. “Ah, ah, not so fast. This is Babs house, and she doesn’t have those rules.”
“Oh heavens me!” She threw up her hands in exasperation, stopping for only a second before diving back into the mountain of blankets. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“I don't know, the same thing that you've been doing with me for the past 25 years? Hoping and praying I’ll finally turn out to be the proper lady that you always wanted me to be and then dealing with the crippling disappointment when I don't meet your expectations?”
She froze mid-fold, her mouth hanging open and sat down next to me. “Baby girl, is that really what you think?”
No, no, no! It’s too early for a heart to heart.
“Is what, what I think?”
Smooth, Sav, she’ll never decode that one. My evil powers of diversion have failed me in my time of need; it’s official vodka is my kryptonite.
She didn’t even blink. “Do you honestly believe that I am disappointed in you?”
“Well aren't you?” I wasn’t sure if it was possible for any functioning adult not to be disappointed in me. Hell, I was disappointed in me.
“Heavens no!” She reached over and took my free hand in hers, giving me a comforting pat. “Darling, you are adventurous and free spirited and so spontaneous, I’m jealous. I would kill for just a teeny bit of your courage.”
Mama say what?
I looked around the room as if I were searching for cameras. “Am I getting Punk’d?”
My mother, after years of experience with my antics, just ignored me and continued. “Now do I wish that you'd swear a little less and maybe try to act like a God-fearing woman? Of course, but that doesn't mean I'm not proud of you for setting out to carve your own path and saying screw you dude anyone who didn't like it.”
My jaw about hit the floor, that ‘screw you’ was the closest thing to a curse that I’d ever heard come out of my Mama’s mouth.
“Wow, I guess I didn't ever think that you thought that highly of me. Oh child, you and your sister are the apple of my eye, I’m equally proud of both of you. But you’ve always been different, even as a little girl you marched to the beat of your own drum. I'm not saying it was easy bringing you up, but that I knew God gave me you for a reason, and that was to teach me patience and understanding.”
“Yeah how’d that work out for you? If I recall, your patience and understanding cost you a tractor and a shrimp boat at one point.”
She closed her eyes briefly and I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d taught that coping mechanism to Addie because she did a lot of that pausing and breathing shit around me. “I’d blocked that tractor incident out for ten years, so thank you for reminding me.”
Jostling her with my elbow, I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “Was that sarcasm? Did my Mama just throw a little shade?”
“Lord have mercy, are you going to let me have this moment or not?”
It’s your Mama, don’t be an asshole.
“Sorry.” I pretended to lock up my mouth and throw away the key, she wasn’t amused.
“Where was I? Oh right, even when you were little, you were so free and fierce oh my, were you fierce. I knew you were never going to be a doctor or a lawyer; you’d never be content living a life like that. What I did know is that whatever you did, you would be passionate about it, and you would live life to the absolute fullest. Not everyone can say that Savannah. Some of the richest and most successful people on the planet are empty inside. Sure, on paper they’ve got it all figured out, but their life is confined to four office walls. You've always been a bit of a wanderer, seeking your next adventure and I’ve got to say, the woman you've become, that’s someone special, and that’s someone to be proud of.”
I felt the tears welling in my eyes and I forced out a pathetic laugh. Well, shit woman, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.”
My mother threw back her head and raised her hands in a praying gesture. “Lord help me!”
I reached out and gave her a one-armed hug, balancing my coffee cup on my knee. “Thanks mama, I needed that.”
“Are you ready for some breakfast? The bacon is getting cold.”
God, she was good. Maybe it was because she had gestated me for nine months and then wrangled me for another eighteen years, but somehow she knew I couldn’t take any more of the heavy on an empty stomach.
“Yeah, I’m starved.”
The ancient warped floorboards creaked as Babs made her way down the hall. “Is love orgy over now? I come out?”
“Sure thing, I'm just fixin’ up breakfast, are you hungry?” Mama asked, her voice as sweet at molasses. Her patience with Babs was otherworldly, especially since the older woman seemed to get off on deliberately fucking with my mother.
“Is there bacon?” Babs asked. “The crispy kind not wet soggy-cock kind.”
“Yes ma'am, I made yours extra crispy, just like you like it.”
Babs nodded and then stopped mid-shuffle. “Shit. I have to put good teeth in.”
Mama piled enough food onto my plate to feed Bam Bam for an entire day. Due to an unfortunate incident during Pappy's wake that included several fiesty members of the church elder choir and a gallon of hot sauce from the Piggly Wiggly, Babs didn't have a dining table. I shivered at the memory that I'd rather forget. Because of the absence of said dining table, the three of us sat in the living room balancing our plates on our knees and eating in an uncomfortable silence.
Picking up a piece of bacon I paused and turned to Kevin, wincing. Typically, I tried to avoid eating pork products in front of him. “Sorry bud, but I need this more than I care about your feelings right now.”
“So, you want to tell me what had you driving all the way home in the middle of the night and your grandmother calling me first thing in the morning to tell me you might be dead on her couch because you drank your weight and vodka?”
I'd known it was coming, I was just hoping to avoid it for as long as humanly possible. But my mother while sweet and innocent on the outside was actually a deviant mastermind. Because I've been sitting on the couch so long that my thighs we're vacuum sealed to the plastic covering and there was nowhere to run.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Babs reach down into the knitting basket beside her arm chair and pull out a tiny bottle of vodka, pouring the contents into her coffee cup. She was clearly settling in for the show. Relenting to my fate, I unloaded the whole sordid tale about the picture Kevin had found and Pope’s unwillingness to introduce me to his family and finally what had happened at the barbecue.
Cue the violins.
My mother covered her mouth with your hand. “Oh my, what did he say?”
I crinkled up my face, confused. “What do you mean ‘what did he say’?
She raised a quizzical brow. “When you asked him about his parents, he had told you that they were out of town and then the young man at the barbecue had contradicted that. So, what did he say when you talked to him about it?”
I blinked, I had a feeling the next answer to come out of my mouth was not going to be what she wanted to hear. “I didn't. I just left and came here.”
Her eyelids fell closed and I could hear the gears grinding in her head. “Oh Savannah, you didn't. You didn't even wait to get his side of the story?”
“Why would I? It's just gonna be more lies.”
Mama was not impressed; she straightened her shoulders and folded her hands in her lap before pinning me with a stern stare. “What if they came back early?”
I threw my hands in the air, frustrated that, yet again, no one could see the situation from my side. “What does it matter? Even if they did come home early, he would've known and he still didn't tell me. A lie of omission is still a lie.”
“Hmm.” Mama’s understanding and kind face had turned in to one of judgment.
Oh shit, here we go.
“Sounds to me like you're just looking for an excuse to cause trouble here. So, tell me Savannah, what are you really afraid of?”
I gripped my coffee mug so tightly I was afraid it was going to break off. “How did this come become about me? He's the one that lied.”
“You don't know because you don’t ask,” Babs chimed in
“Take it from two women who have collectively been married for close to a 100 years. You're jumping to conclusions because you've already predicted the outcome of your relationship. You're just looking for a reason and excuse not to try so you won’t get hurt. You need to ask yourself this, do you want to be with Pope or not? Because the only thing standing in your way is you.”
Et tu brute. I do believe I just got served.
“I want to be with him,” I admitted sheepishly.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
Mama wasn’t letting up. “Then what's the problem?”
“I think he's embarrassed of me,” I blurted it out. It took a minute for it to sink in. That really was the root of the problem. I was worried that the reason Pope didn't want to introduce me to his family was because he didn't want them to know that he’d been slumming it with swamp trash.
She stood up from the couch and straightened her skirt. “Mmm hmm, sounds like you have a few things to think about. I've got to head over to the church but I'll be back later this afternoon to check on you, okay sweet thing?”
“Yeah Mama, thanks.”
She dropped a kiss on the top of my head before sashaying out the door like she hadn't just dropped a bomb of epic proportions right on top of my goddamn head.
***
I'd had the coffee and grease from the bacon, I just needed that little extra something to pull me fully out of my hangover. I search the cabinets not caring that I let them slam behind me until I came upon what I was looking for. A can of funfetti frosting. Just what the doctor ordered.
Grabbing a knife from the drawer I shuffled my way to the front porch. Just as I plopped my happy ass down and shoved a spoonful of sugar and red dye number 5 in my mouth, a hissing noise sounded behind me. I jumped up like my ass was on fire and spun to see fluffy's sharp teeth and beady little gator eyes staring at me through the porch railing. "Christ on a cracker!"
He'd ninja'd up behind me and had it not been for the rickety railing, he probably would've bitten my head off. The little fucker had murderer tattooed all over his reptilian face. Storming back into the house I shouted for my grandmother. "Babs! Where's the shotgun? I'm going to kill your little fiend before he eats me."
She popped her head out from the kitchen. "Why you bitch so loud?"
I rolled my eyes and flopped onto the sticky plastic couch. "Because your little pet gator just tried to bite my face off."
"He get you? I get vodka will make better."
I sighed, maybe Addie had a point, maybe I did tend to overreact just a teeny bit. "He didn't actually bite me, just scared the ever-loving shit out of me."
Babs hurumphed and she disappeared back into the kitchen mumbling to herself. "Pussy."
"What was that?"
Instead of pretending like she hadn't said anything at all like a normal person Babs barrel back out of the kitchen and pointed at crooked finger at me. "I call you big fat gaping pussy. You raised in swamp whole life and afraid of little baby gator."
"Little? He's fucking six feet long!"
"Ack! Still baby, teeth not yet break bones, harmless."
"Whatever, as long as he stays out there. I don't want him seeing Kevin and getting pork fever."
She waved me off and turned back to whatever she was doing in the kitchen. "In Russia we wrestle bears for vodka, Americans too soft."
I leaned back and flipped on the TV prepared to spend the day wallowing and watching Dr. Phil talk nonsense at a teenager who thinks her unborn child is the antichrist.
Because that's what any well-adjusted twenty-five-year-old woman would do. Sit on her grandmother's couch eating junk food and watching daytime television on a Tuesday afternoon.
I'd deal with the remnants of my shattered heart tomorrow. I just needed a mental health day, and maybe some vodka.