Like a loony, I pound on the wooden door. “Where’d you go? Mrs. Tinley, I know you’re in there.”

The front door swings open, leaving my fist hanging in midair. “Bender,” Mrs. Tinley answers, her hunched posture almost as worrisome as is her disapproving stare. “That baseball did a number on your frontal lobe. Don’t make me teach you a lesson in social etiquette. Go put on some clothes. And bring me back a beer while you’re at it.”

“My head’s fine.” So said the neurosurgeon I woke up to in the ICU. “You were getting the beer. Then you disappeared like the Loch Ness monster taking refuge and hiding somewhere deep inside Mike’s house. This time, I’m Nessie, and I’m entering yours.”

I push through the threshold and storm off to find her kitchen.

Mrs. Tinley follows but her awkward stride makes her rather slow, which grants me ample time to scour what she’s got hidden inside her fridge. “I reckon you boys walk around the locker room lookin’ somethin’ like a toddler in a diaper on a hot summer day, but this ain’t no baseball stadium and you ain’t no toddler. This is my house.” She tosses me a robe, her aim so perfect it knocks a few hairs right off my chest. “Dress yourself, or you ain’t touchin’ the booze from my fridge.”

Following her orders, I set a large glass jar on her counter and slip into the purple robe. The moment I cinch the belt that rests high up on my waist, I’m confident I look like a tall yet skinnier version of Barney. At least I’m covered, and Mrs. Tinley seems to approve. I’m not sure why. It’s clear my hairy legs don’t match the look I’ve got going with the mini-dress I’m wearing.

“Better?” I ask, voicing my next admission in a hurry. “It better be, because I think I’ve got a problem.”

After some silence, Mrs. Tinley hands me a short glass she’s filled with a clear liquid. It looks like water. “The way I see it, you’ve got more than one problem. Care to clue me in on which it is you’re talkin’ about?”

I sniff the contents and take a seat in a plastic yellow barstool at the counter. Mrs. Tinley’s house is clean, but it’s definitely a time-hop back to the 1970s. Her rust-colored carpet is heavily worn shag with flattened trails from room to room. Looking around, I’m at a loss for how her almond-colored appliances are still functioning.

She meets my gaze, the bun on top of her head loosened and frayed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out. The math ain’t difficult.”

Words escape me as I repeat her comment in my head. I have no clue as to what she’s talking about. How did we go from a discussion about my problem to some sort of math?

Mulling it over, I tip back my head and down the clear liquid in my hand. Immediately, I wish for a chaser to clear the burning flaring up in the back of my throat. I nearly drop the glass to the counter as I cough and sputter, eventually discerning that whatever the old lady just fed me, it tastes pretty darn good.

“What the heck is this?”

“Simple moonshine. Made it myself. Just don’t let the locals know.” She flashes me a look of warning, then takes a chug herself. “Closet drinkers. They’ll all be out here sniffing around. I don’t need that, but sometimes you gotta play their game. And I ain’t goin’ to hell any more’n you are. But if you don’t fix your problem, I may just take you there myself.”

Defensive to her threat, I throw up my hands. “Hey, I tried everything. Even hypnotherapy didn’t work.”

“Meathead, this ain’t about baseball.”

“Ouch, that hurts. Feel free to call me something harsher next time.”

“It’s gonna hurt a lot worse if you make me slap you upside the back of your head. Maybe I ought to give it a go anyway. Might just be what you need to get your brain working again. ’Cause what I saw today ain’t the actions of a man expectin’ a baby.”

A tightening in my chest follows a wave of extreme heat. I narrow my eyes into slits, feeling my eyebrows squish together. “What’d you say?”

“You ain’t got nothin’ wrong with your ears, Bender. You heard me. You gotta get your ass off that chair and go make this right.”

I lift my cap and drop it on the counter next to the empty glass. Sifting my fingers through my hair, I arch my spine, and get to work calculating some simple math. When I don’t know where to start the equation, I toss a sideways glance at Mrs. Tinley. “Hey, how many days are there in a typical pregnancy?”

At my question, she stares with brooding eyes, tips the precious jar, and refills her glass with moonshine. Like an outlaw gearing up for a shootout in the streets of the Wild West, she downs the contents, slams the empty to the counter, and fixes her cloudy eyes on me, pinning me with her stare.

“Bender, if you don’t get this right, I’ll beat you from here to Hades.”

I lower my gaze to the counter and wipe the excessive sweat away from my forehead. After a moment of silence, I ask her if Addison is carrying my baby.

A laugh of disbelief roars out of Mrs. Tinley’s throat. “Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Home Run. Quick. Give the guy a trophy.” She dumps a knuckle’s-worth into my glass, and then slides it across the countertop back into my hands. “After what you sustained last year, Bender, this shouldn’t come as much of a blow. Tell me how you didn’t immediately know that baby’s yours?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because we barely know each other.”

She lifts a curious brow. “And yet—”

“I know. I know. I slept with her. I should know.”

“You’re darn tootin’ you should know. Addison Hunt hasn’t so much as looked at a guy since the death of her parents hit national headlines.”

A strange mix of equal parts guilt and sadness moves through me when I hear of Addison’s loss. Addison Hunt. Now I know her full name. Even more, not only is the woman of my dreams available but she’s carrying my unborn baby.

Riddled with shame for walking away from her the way I did this morning, I finger the top of the glass, absentmindedly tracing circles around the rim. “Her parents are dead?”

Suddenly, I grow concerned, my stomach rolling when I think of how Addison’s been facing this pregnancy all alone.

“Pretty tragic. There’s a few of us around here who keep a lookout for Addison. She’s a strong woman. No other family to speak of. She never asks for a thing. And despite what people say behind her back, she gives to this community like you wouldn’t believe.”

In all the days I’d thought of Addison, an accidental pregnancy hadn’t crossed my mind. “I don’t know how this happened. I’m telling you, we took precautions.” But it’s not like I checked anything after we’d been together. Would anyone actually do such a thing after an amazing day like ours in the woods? The thought puts a grin on my face as I think back to the day I soaked in everything I could about her. “You know, she shoots a rifle like a veteran sniper only wishes he could. Ironically, I guess I’m the one who got the last shot in that day.”

Mrs. Tinley chuckles, then gently pats my hand. “I’m kinda surprised she took you out. Before her papa became governor, they used to hunt all the time. Each fall they’d get their limit of deer and skin ’em upside down in Mr. Jenkins’s barn. Addison saw to it the venison was frozen in family packs full of meat and sausage to help feed the less fortunate throughout the winter. I don’t think she’s aimed a barrel in years. S’pose it’s much like ridin’ a bike. Once you get back on, you remember how to do it.”

The memory of our day in the woods settles deep in my heart. Not sure what to say to Mrs. Tinley, I decide to stay quiet.

Staring unseeingly, I feel Mrs. Tinley pat my hand. “She lives in the white house at the south edge of town, just before Main Street turns back into the country highway. Apartment C. Be sure to grab a bite to eat before you go pounding down her door like you did mine. You need something to soak up the two-hundred proof you just drank. Maybe even a shower and some clothes’d do you good.” Mrs. Tinley smiles as I rise and slip my cap back over my hair. “Oh, and Bender. Go easy on her. These hiatuses you’re takin’…just so you know, you’re rechargin’ your batteries inside her childhood home.”

Surprised by yet another revelation Mrs. Tinley’s made, I give her a slight nod and follow it up with a frown. Given the day’s events, I’m pretty stunned. However, I won’t let any amount of shock stop me from finding apartment C and claiming my Addison.