Chapter Seventeen

Bitsy

I sat on the living room floor, my fingers absently running through the coiled pink ribbons now strewn across the carpet. I felt tired, emotionally drained in a way that I didn’t think I could bring myself to explain. I had been thinking about Lorelei’s first birthday for months, excited to celebrate the precious little one who had changed my life so much. But as the little party I had planned grew closer, I found myself starting to feel sad, my thoughts turning to my mother and wishing that she could be there with us. It felt so strange to even be thinking about her. I had rarely thought of her since she had disappeared, but suddenly now that I was a mother she was on my mind more often. I wondered what it would be like if she had never gone, if whatever happened to her had never happened and she had been there with me through everything that I had faced. Would I still have chased Gregory? Would I have let him shatter me the way that I did?

Like I had done so many times before, I walked over to Lorelei and kissed her, whispering promises into the softness of her hair that I would never leave her the way that my mother had left me, and that I would do anything and everything for her. She looked up at me and smiled. I knew that she had no idea what I was saying to her, but I hoped that somehow the words would find their way into her heart where they would wait until my daughter needed them the most, and then come back to her memory.

I looked down and saw that one of the baby’s hands was wrapped tightly around the ear of the pink teddy bear that Roman had brought for her. In the days leading up to her party I had started to lose hope that he was going to make it back, and I was having difficulty processing that level of worry. After all, I hadn’t wanted him around in the first place. I had tried to push him away that first night, telling him that I didn’t need him, that neither of us did, but now that he had actually gone back home, even with the promises that he would soon be back, I felt an emptiness and a hope that he would soon get back. I realized that I didn’t want him to miss Lorelei’s first birthday. For him, for her, and for me. I had gone through my pregnancy and the first almost year of her life without him, and having him there to experience these things was valuable, even though I knew that it could never be anything more than just sharing in the wonder that was parenting a child and watching that baby grow.

The party had been almost better than I had hoped for. Lorelei seemed thrilled with everything from the balloons to the gifts and I had felt a connection with Roman that was powerful and real. Even as it started to chip away at the wall that I was building up between us, I couldn’t get past the thoughts that constantly tormented me and that wouldn’t allow me to open up to him. He had said that he wanted to try being a family, but I couldn’t imagine a family beginning in the way that we had come together. After all, it had been completely anonymous. If it hadn’t been me that night, Roman would have had sex with some other girl. Would he have the same feelings for that girl if this situation had unfolded for them?

How could he really think that we had any sort of chance when our family started because we had tumbled not into love, but into bed?

That was the thought that brought the party to an end and that kept repeating through my mind now. The baby looked exhausted and I swept her up off of the floor, bringing her new bear with her so that she could sleep with it that night. Once she was asleep, I changed my clothes, said goodnight to Granddaddy, and headed out. I felt like I needed some fresh air, some time to myself away from the house and all of the worries that were hanging in the air there.

I found myself at Bubba Ray Ramirez’s restaurant and as soon as I stepped in I wondered if I had been drawn there. Roman already sat at the bar, his hands wrapped around what looked like a plastic cup molded to look like a waving American flag. I slid onto the stool beside him and he glanced at me, and then at the drink in his hand.

“Apparently, he had quite a few of these left over from the Fourth,” he told me.

“Ah,” I said in acknowledgement.

“Have you ever tried to drink a beer out of a plastic American flag?” he asked.

“I can’t say I’ve had the occasion. I’ve only been able to drink legally for less than two years and I haven’t really been hopping the bars very much, what with the pregnancy and the breastfeeding and the childrearing and all.”

Roman nodded.

“It is not easy.” I nodded again and he leaned forward to get a better look at me. “Is there something bothering you?”

I realized then that I hadn’t told him the full story of what had brought me back to Whiskey Hollow. I had told him that I came back to help Granddaddy on the farm, but I hadn’t explained why. I plunged into the story, explaining everything that had happened and what I was trying to do to fix it. My story brought me to the day before when I found notes that Granddaddy had taken about the farm and realized that they were information that he was gathering for the prospective buyer, and felt my heart starting to break. Even after everything that I had put into the farm, all of the work that I had poured into each day, all of the hours that I had spent away from my baby, he was still planning to go ahead with the sale. I was discouraged, losing the drive that I had felt to push through.

Suddenly the door to the bar crashed open and Jeb Montaigne rushed in.

“Bubba Ray, I need your help,” he said.

I turned toward Jeb and saw him looking frantically at Bubba Ray, not seeming to notice anyone else in the room.

“Alright now, Jeb. Calm down. What is it?”

“Brock Westwood showed back up in the Hollow tonight.”

“Brock?” Bubba Ray asked. “Stormy’s ex-husband?”

“That’s him. He showed up with some big declaration of love hoping to win Stormy back and bring her home, but his chances of succeeding in that already weren’t good considering how she threw his ass out three years ago and how she’s about a month away from dropping this third baby of hers. So, she rejected him right off.”

“That must have upset him.”

“It did. It upset him right down into the cellar where he found the advent calendar that Stormy’s husband was making for her out of his specialty craft flavored moonshines. It was supposed to be a special Thanksgiving present since that’ll be right around when she’ll be alright drinking moonshine again. Well, Brock found it…. you know, I’ve never liked that name, Brock. It sounds like there should be some other part to it. Like Brockville or Brockenheimer. Von Brock. Brockenstein.”

“Jeb, what happened?”

“Oh. Well, O’Brocky found the advent calendar and he was all the way through the first two and a half weeks of December and gearing on toward Christmas Eve when Stormy and her husband finally broke down the cellar door and found him. They tried to subdue him, but he managed to escape, hotwired their tractor, and headed off. Now he’s crashed in a cornfield.”

“Oh, lord,” Bubba Ray said. “Alright, well that’s fine. He’s going to be alright. I’ve seen Brock Westwood manage much worse than a decimated advent calendar and some squished-up corn. Let’s go get him. Where’d he crash?”

“The Galloway Farm.”

I felt my stomach sink and my mind start to spin. I jumped down off of my stool and was out of the restaurant before I even heard what Bubba Ray was planning on doing. I could hear Roman calling after me as he chased me, insisting that I let him drive me. I was trembling so hard I didn’t know if I would be able to steer correctly, but I wasn’t about to just sit and let someone else drive me.

“If you want to come along, fine, but I’m driving.” I climbed into my car and stared out at Roman where he still stood staring at me. “You better hop in or I’m leaving you behind.”

He ducked into the car and I skidded away from the restaurant and back toward the farm, taking the back way that would bring us right to the cornfield.