CHAPTER SEVEN
HALEY
Two days in and life with Dane the Pilot is proving difficult. The guy’s completely full of himself, walks around shirtless twenty-four seven, and seems to have precisely zero consideration for the fact he is a guest in my house.
He’s nice to look at, yes, maybe the nicest man candy to be candied, but that is beside the point. He has no respect, no manners, and for that alone we could never, ever be a thing, whatever that ‘thing’ might be.
Every time I try to get him to help out with Andy, he insists he’s a bad choice of babysitter, that he’s ill-equipped for the job. I want to remind him he flies a crazy expensive jet with more controls and buttons than a Radioshack store, a complex machine that probably took years of training to use, and yet he can’t look after a one-year-old boy who’s probably going to do nothing but sit on the rug and play with his toys? I mean, come on.
But I don’t.
I simply shake my head, to myself, and go on with my day, struggle through it as always while Dane takes over the house. The food consumption alone is costing me a fortune, and has he offered to help out, to pay? Not once. I’ve never met anyone so self-centered in my entire life. Even my ex wasn’t this bad, and that’s saying a lot.
So, when Dane turns down babysitting while I go into town to speak to the bank, it’s expected. I plead, but I’m not going to beg, so I rug Andy up and struggle out the door.
I don’t bother asking Mrs. Ainsworth. I don’t have the money to pay her or Nancy.
I hold Andy against my hip while I walk towards town, doing my best not to slip and end up on my ass, as blissful as the time off in the hospital would be.
You’ve got problems, Haley. Real problems thinking like that.
Is it so wrong I want a break, a bit of me time? I feel guilty even considering it. And I really don’t need more bills.
If it wasn’t for Mr. Pilot Penis Man back at the house, maybe I could have grabbed a quick, one-dollar coffee from the gas station before my meeting with the bank manager—maybe something stiffer given how the meeting’s likely to go.
But Mr. Big Head isn’t ‘a kid guy,’ whatever that means, so now I have to drag Andy with me wrapped up like an oversized burrito in charity-bin clothes. I mean, what kind of mother can’t even afford new clothes for her child?
The wind is gone. It’s still cool, the ice continuing to build as the cold snap settles in for good, everything turned crystalline outside.
The days are ticking down until the foreclosure. This is my only chance to get the bank to forestall. It was a miracle I even got this meeting at such late notice.
The middle of Merit is quiet for this time of day, but most businesses of importance are open again, the power outage leaving the town center alone for the time being.
The First Bank of Merit is a grandiose building right next to the town hall. It looms large over the park, everything about it stating ‘authority.’
The lady at the desk scrunches her face up when she sees I’ve brought Andy, but shows me into the manager’s office regardless. I shake his hand and sit. We’ve never met, but I know he was good friends with my parents. I’m hoping that alone will allow some measure of mercy here.
At first, he does seem sympathetic as I lay out my working conditions, the issues I’ve had holding down a job.
He nods, hands tented in front of himself behind his grand walnut desk. “I get it, Haley. I do. The economy… It’s put a lot of folks out, especially country folk. Most move to the city. More opportunity there.”
I’m waiting for the ‘So why did you stick around?’ but he moves on.
He clears his throat. “I can see where you’re coming from, I can.”
Andy’s starting to get restless, wriggling around in my arms. “But…” I offer.
He holds his hands up. “There’s simply nothing I can do. My hands are tied.”
His hands appear very much untied, but I keep my manners in check. “Of course, Mr. Pemberton, but is there really nothing that can be done? Please, I’m begging you.”
His mouth twists like the mere mention of begging is a distasteful, disgusting concept to him. “I knew your folks, Haley. They were strong, dependable people. They never missed a single payment.”
I want to tell him those were different times, but I hold my tongue and let him continue.
“We’re part of a larger, national network of banks now. This isn’t a ‘mom and pop’ establishment any more. Do you understand? I simply can’t provide any leeway on these matters, not with the city boys breathing down my neck. If it was ten, twenty years ago? Maybe, but I can’t help you today, sorry.”
Andy continues to fuss, starting to scream and carry on. He’s hungry, of course, in the world’s worst possible show of timing.
I’m getting desperate, juggling Andy from arm to arm. “Please, Mr. Pemberton, for Andy’s sake.”
The bank manager’s face turns stony, his hands settling on the desk defensively. “Look, as I said, it’s out of my hands.”
I go to say something, but he stops me with a raised hand, my reflection caught in his spectacles. “And, might I add, I don’t appreciate you bringing your baby down here like she’s some kind of get-out-of-jail-free card.”
I don’t correct him on the sex, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. I could explain, try to make him understand, but I’m worried if I spend another second longer in here I’m going to lose it completely.
I stand and swallow back my emotions. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Pemberton.”
He nods once and watches as I head to the door.
I storm out of the bank, Andy wailing against my shoulder. I’m hurt, deeply—hurt and angry and desperate.
Is there not a single break to be found in this world?
Light sleet starts on the way home. Andy screams louder, right in my ear. I’ve never been so frustrated, so angry in my entire life because I know this is the end. There’s no way I can stop this foreclosure, and what then? What will Andy and I do?
I unlock the door and enter the house cold and wet.
I look around, but I can’t see Dane.
“Come on, little man,” I tell Andy. “Let’s get you fed, huh?”
It turns out Dane’s in the kitchen, a plethora of jars and condiments before him, bread strewn across the countertop. It’s more or less everything I had in the fridge and pantry.
I stop in the doorway. “What are you doing?” I snap, the sharpness in my tone uncharacteristic.
Dane swallows down a mouthful of sandwich before speaking. “What does it look like? You don’t have a lot to eat around here, you know. A man could starve.”
If my blood was boiling before it’s about to go into full-on nuclear meltdown. I try to restrain myself, but the mess, the food… It’s too much. “Sorry,” I mutter through gritted teeth, “I’m not accustomed to feeding two children.”
Dane nods to Andy. “Come on. How much can a little guy like that really pack away?”
I place Andy down on the living room carpet and turn to face Dane, my arms crossed in front of myself defensively. “Why do you have to be so, so,” I stutter, “arrogant? You’re the world’s worst house guest. Do you know that?”
It’s an atypical outburst, one that clearly catches Dane off guard.
He places down the sandwich, arms out wide. “Come on now. I’m not perfect, I get I made a bit of a mess here, but the world’s worst?” He smiles.
I shake my head, my old self returning. “I’m sorry. It’s… been a rough day.” I rub my temples. “I’ll head out later and get some food, supplies. The ice is getting bad anyhow, creeping up from the southern end of town. We need to be prepared.”
Dane places his hands on the counter, his rock-hard arms outlined in the tight tee he’s wearing, the hint of ink showing. “I agree. You know what they say about preparation.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“It’s a lot better than luck,” he smirks.
But somehow I’m thinking Dane The-World-Belongs-To-Me Carr has had plenty of luck in his life.
I move to the fridge and take out a pre-prepared bottle of formula. I don’t know why, but I can’t help the hot flush I feel whenever I’m in Dane’s immediate radius, even though he’s obnoxious and self-centered and completely oblivious to the plight of others. “I’m going upstairs to feed Andy and put him to bed. Can you at least clean up when you’re done, please?”
I sound like his mother.
He gives me a small salute, picking up his jam-packed sandwich.
I suppose it does take a lot of fuel to keep a body like that in tip top condition, but he better get used to beans and bread if he’s going to eat me out of house and home.
I scoop up Andy and can’t scrub Dane from my head as I make my way upstairs. He didn’t even ask why my day was rough. That’s how absorbed in himself he is.
So why do you want to throw yourself into his arms?
It’s a darn good question. Maybe I’m desperate, for attention, affection—anything but the dread and anxiety I’ve become accustomed to of late.
Maybe you just need to get off again…
Such dirty thoughts are alien to me, but then again there has never been anyone quite like Dane Carr in Merit. Perhaps it’s simply the novelty of him that appeals, the new ride at the fair everyone’s so keen to check out… only to ride it once and never again.
I hand Andy his bottle and place him down in the middle of his cot, pressing his soft-toy elephants, which he calls his ‘Boys,’ into his sides. His eyelids flutter open and closed as he drinks, sucking down that formula like it’s the last bottle in the world.
“At least you don’t have to worry about the big bad world out there,” I tell him. “Not for a few years yet. But you’re going to be better than your momma. You’re going to finish high school and go to college, become a doctor or a rocket scientist and get as far away from this town as you can. You’re going to be my little man who could.”
I sit in the rocking chair in the corner slowly pushing it forwards and backwards. It’s an antique, older than the house itself. I remember my own mother sitting in it and reading me bedtime stories—Charlotte’s Web, Anne of Green Gables—a knitted quilt over her lap. Things were so perfect back then, before I grew up and realized there is no way out of Merit. It has a habit of trapping people and never letting them go. My parents lived and died here, as did their folks. From time to time someone will escape, but they always end up back here when the bigger world spits them back out.
Dane represents that. He represents the outside world. He represents success. If I’m honest, that’s part of the attraction—I want to be part of his universe if only to feel the warmth of success and its rare embrace.
Maybe that’s why I stay, too scared of failure, of being something more only to have it stripped away.
And then there’s the question of why I want to leave. Do I really think things would be different somewhere else? They might be worse. Is it really that bad here? If you strip away the bad elements, Merit has a lot to offer, the kind of wholesomeness you won’t find in a bigger town or city. Merit has its merits, you might say. You’ve just got to look deeper to find them.