“He doesn’t deserve this and you do…”
“If I was y’all, I’d…”
Yeah, I knew. I knew what they were going to say and what they’d do if they were in my position but they weren’t. They were on the outside, looking sadly in and I was the same confused girl I’d sworn I’d never be again.
This was my burden to bear and I refused to bear it anymore.
Sighing, I rose from the couch and padded across the trailer toward the kitchenette to grab another beer from the fridge.
It would be my fourth but no one would have known. If I was going to drown my bitterness that night, I was going to need something much stronger than Bud.
I wasn’t even sure when my tolerance had escalated to the point it had. Once upon a time, two beers would have been my limit for the night. Suddenly, I was a full-fledged lush.
As I popped the cap off the beer and pressed it to my lips, someone pounded on the flimsy door and I stifled a groan.
Shit!
Of course, the next course of action would be just showing up on my doorstep. I should have hidden myself better but it was too late to consider that now; the blinds were open and the lights were on.
Music was playing, albeit softly, from my laptop’s speakers but the walls were stupidly thin in the trailer, something else I’d learned the hard way a long time ago.
“Gen, we know y’all in there!” Marybeth called. “I’ve got Elsa and Carrie with me.”
Double shit. They’re all here.
There was no way to avoid them; if I didn’t let them in, they’d just break in. It wasn’t hard and my neighbors certainly weren’t going to call the cops. They’d probably all pull up lawn chairs and watch the action. God knows, nothing else of interest happened in Elizabeth.
“Gen – ”
I shoved open the door, catching them off balance but they didn’t tumble from the rickety steps.
“What are you doing here?” I asked rhetorically. Of course, it was a dumb question but it was the first one that sprung from my lips. Maybe I’d had too much to drink after all because I was suddenly feeling a little light headed.
I really could have done without the company of my angry friends, well-meaning as they were.
The problem was, I didn’t even know if I was as enraged as they were. I may have reached the pinnacle of apathy by that point. Either that or the alcohol was doing its job. In any case, I would have rather they not have been there but it didn’t matter; there was nothing I could do about them being there now.
“What did you think was going to happen if you didn’t answer your phone?” Carrie retorted, pushing her way past me, wrinkling her nose as she looked inside my unkempt residence. “Christ, Geneva, how long has it been since you opened a window in here? Is something dead?”
Just my soul, I thought brightly.
“All the windows are opened!” I protested but I wasn’t sure if that was true. I’d been fermenting in the trailer for six weeks at least, barely making it out for groceries. Thankfully, I’d found a beer delivery service, willing to come out my way.
“Good lord!” Elsa muttered, stepping over a pile of discarded clothes, including a pile of dirty underwear. “Baby, you have got to go take a shower. I’ll clean up in here.”
“Girls, I know you mean well – ”
“We ain’t goin’ anywhere, Gen,” Marybeth told me. “Y’all better get used to it and go have a shower.”
I opened my mouth to argue again but I changed my mind, knowing that the three against one was not going to fare well for me.
“Just go have a shower,” Elsa said gently, shooing me toward the closet-sized bathroom off the bedroom. “We’ll be here when you come out.”
That was motivation enough to escape into the shower. It would buy me time away from their well-meaning but overbearing presence.
I stripped off my clothes and stepped through the accordion door, realizing how rank I was. God, how long had it been since I’d bathed?
I was aghast at myself, a deep humiliation flushing through my neck and staining my cheeks crimson. I couldn’t believe I’d let them see me like this, especially Carrie and Marybeth who barely knew me.
Ire overtook my embarrassment, the thought of how much time I’d wasted moping about the past month and a half consuming me like a wave of nausea.
Damn it! He’s off living the dream and I’m sulking around like a teenager who lost her first boyfriend to college. This ends today. He doesn’t deserve my woe. He doesn’t even deserve my thoughts.
As the shower ran, steaming up the closed space, the bile bubbling in my throat refused to go down and I knew then that I was going to vomit.
It’s too hot in here, I thought, dropping to my knees, my head over the toilet. I retched, spitting up what little I’d eaten that day but my stomach wouldn’t stop churning.
Great. And now I’m going to get sick on top of everything else.
“Baby? Y’all okay in there?” Marybeth called. “Y’all gettin’ sick?”
“I’m fine!” I yelled back.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Slowly, nausea subsided and I stepped under the cooling water, scrubbing the dirt and sweat from my lithe body with ferociousness.
I had waited too long to jump in and I had a limited supply of hot water depleted in minutes but I had to admit that when I got out, I was feeling a lot more human than I had before getting in.
Snatching a towel off a plastic hook, I wrapped myself in the frayed material, chestnut waves dripping down my back as I let myself out of the bathroom. Before I could hang a right into my cramped bedroom, I caught a glimpse my posse of friends staring at me in a horizontal line across the living room, their heads cocked sideways.
They were studying me with embarrassing closeness.
“What?” I asked, my brow knitting. “Did you find a rat or something? Did something actually die in here? Because I swear, I didn’t know about it.”
I was joking but they didn’t smile, their faces an identical mask of concern.
“Get dressed,” Elsa said. “And then we’ll talk.”
“No, you’re making me nervous,” I insisted. “What?”
“Baby, we don’t wantcha to take this the wrong way but – ”
“When was the last time your Aunt Flo visited?” Carrie interjected bluntly, cutting off Marybeth midsentence.
My chocolate eyes widened.
“What?” I asked, a small smile curving over my lips. “What are you asking me?”
“Baby, is there any chance you’re knocked up?”
“What?” I howled with laughter and turned away from them to retreat into my bedroom for an outfit.
“Um, Jude has been gone for months,” I reminded them. “And as hard as this is to believe, men aren’t really lining up at my door.”
But as the words left my lips, I paused, staring at my naked reflection in the full-length mirror.
My body had changed in small, subtle ways. My stomach wasn’t as flat. God! Were my hips wider?
I had noticed tenderness in my breasts but that was common before my time of month…
When had that last been?
I gasped and whirled around, my pupils dilating as my girls gathered in the doorway, worry etched in their expressions.
“Oh, Gen,” Elsa sighed, hurrying toward me, embracing me. “It’s all right, honey. We’ll figure this out.”
But I shook my head in denial.
God, no! I screamed silently. This ain’t happening. He doesn’t get to steal my dream and abandon me with a baby. I am not that girl! I will never be that girl!
Another round of sickness seized me and I pushed out of Elsa’s grasp and floundered toward the toilet.
When I had finished retching, sitting back against the still damp walls, I looked up dumbly at my friends, trying to think of something to say.
“Gen…” Elsa tried again, her mothering instinct kicking in as she crouched down b
ut I shook my head, my jaw twitching.
If I didn’t want to hear their platitudes before, I was violently opposed to hearing them in this instance.
“Someone needs to get to CVS,” I said, mustering every ounce of calm I could into my voice. “And get me a kit.”
They seemed to snap into action at once, each one tripping over the other toward the door as if they could sense the fury emanating from my bones.
And I envied them at that moment because they could leave.
I didn’t need a stick to tell me what I had been avoiding for weeks.
I was going to have a baby, and I was going to be just like so many other girls we’d known.
Gone were my aspirations of being a singer and songwriter.
I was destined to be a single mom, living in a trailer park with a baby daddy who never knows his kid.
1
Jude
My brow furrowed as I strummed again, adjusting my fingers to the frets but it still didn’t sound right.
“G or A?” I asked Brutus but the Rottweiler didn’t even bother to raise his massive head to acknowledge me.
I didn’t really blame him. It was hotter than hell out that morning and it wasn’t even close to noon yet.
I couldn’t imagine what it was like to have an all-black body covered in fur under the Louisiana heat so I didn’t take it personally when he didn’t seem to have any opinion on my new song.
I wasn’t sure I even had an opinion about it either.
“Baby, can we go now?” Kristy moaned. “I’m meltin’ out here!”
“One sec,” I told her without raising my head. I had almost forgotten she was there, the tune absorbing my concentration although, in hindsight, I’m not sure how I could have overlooked her presence.
Her shrill voice had busted my concentration, at least for the time being and while I tried to regain the momentum of what I was working on, it had escaped like a heated vapor off the bayou.
“Baby,” she whined again and I glanced up at her, my green eyes flashing with annoyance.
“All right!” I snapped, gently casting the instrument onto the scarred wooden bench on the porch. “Let’s go!”
Immediately, her demeanor changed as she sensed my irritation and she gave me a beguiling look, her blue eyes wide and innocent.
“Honey, you can keep workin’ if y’all in a groove,” she said, doing a complete about-face but the moment had passed and I rose to my full height, casting a shadow on her wiry form.
Kristy had been a fixture in my life since childhood, the girl next-door in a sense and most everyone in Oakdale wrongly assumed we were a couple.
It was more because Kristy drove that impression home, her claws firmly digging into my broad shoulders like the talons of an eagle despite the fact that I had made it very clear for years that we would never be together like that.
I guess it didn’t help that I let her hang around and continued to sleep with her but Oakdale was a small town and the pickings weren’t great. She was the closest thing to a single “town beauty” as Oakdale could come by so I wasn’t about to toss her to the curb just yet.
One day, I’ll move to New York and I won’t have to worry about Kristy McClellan’s chili cheese fry cravings.
“Just meet me in the truck,” I sighed, tossing her the keys out of my pocket. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
She caught the set with one hand and offered me a broad grin, spinning to sashay away in what she likely thought was a provocative sway in her frayed jean shorts and halter top but watching her only fueled my aggravation.
Maybe it was the heat but she seemed to be getting on my nerves more than usual the past week or so.
It was probably time to schedule another “break up” which, truly, was more of a “time out.” I required breathing room from Kristy every once in a while and the summer was a good a time as any to take it. Sometimes tourists moseyed in through Oakdale while traveling through the state and there was nothing quite like a summer fling.
I slipped back into the cottage-style house which I shared with Jimmy Chase and wandered toward the bathroom. To my chagrin, my roommate was already in there.
What else is new?
“Jim, you gonna be long?” I called, checking my exasperation.
“Yep.”
I smothered a groan.
“How long?”
“No idea.”
He was a third cousin of mine or twice removed or some craziness that only a grandmother with too many cats and too much free time could decipher. I knew that I was supposed to appreciate him as a member of my family but his one-word answers and bathroom hogging was getting to be a bit much after two years of living together.
Yeah, I was cranky.
“Heading to Buster’s,” I offered, trying to check my temper. “Want me to bring you anything?”
“Nope.”
I did grunt that time, spinning toward my bedroom to slide some deodorant under my arms and put on a shirt.
My bladder would have to hold until we got into town.
I dug out an old Nirvana t-shirt and slipped it over my smooth, bronze chest, covering the litany of tattoos instantly as my arms found the sleeves.
As my head poked through the neck hole, I caught sight of myself in the mirror over the dresser and I paused to squint at my face.
My bright emerald eyes seemed to depict my internal state of mind, flashing with mild indignation beneath a flood of thick, black eyelashes.
I hadn’t shaved in a couple days, a dirty-blonde scruff covering my face, the strands of my matching head of shoulder length hair catching in the stubble as I peered closer.
Was I getting crow’s feet?
It seemed impossible. I was only twenty-eight and in great shape. I worked out every day in some form whether swimming in the Calcasieu River or actually hitting the gym to push my own mass in weights.
I ate all right, stuck to hard liquor to avoid the beer gut and even that I did in moderation…for a country boy anyway.
My mouth became a grimace of disgust and I exhaled in a long whoosh as I realized that it was just a trick of the lighting; there were no wrinkles.
Getting older was a touchy subject for me, probably because I had always thought I would be in a completely different place by my age.
My biggest fear was being a washed-up musician, busking on subway platforms at forty but it seemed that was where I was headed.
Or worse, that I would be trapped in Oakdale for the rest of my life, raising half a dozen kids with Kristy McClellan.
The sound of the truck’s horn shattered my self-pitying moment and I grabbed my wallet from the dressed to meet her.
I’m gonna buy her some chili cheese fries and then I’m gonna dump her. Again.
* * *
Buster’s was oddly busy for a weekday but I realized it was lunchtime. I hoped that we didn’t run into anyone we knew but the chances of that were slim to none. It was Oakdale after all. It was not known for a place to be incognito.
As we collected our orders and sat at a picnic table near the stagnant pond, I gazed over Kristy’s shoulder at the swans floating through the glassy water as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.
Anything to avoid listening to Kristy’s incessant babbling about her classes at Louisiana Tech. She was so proud of her community college education, it embarrassed me.
That’s the best anyone in this town can hope for. A community college degree and suckering some unsuspecting idiot into marriage.
“Baby, you should think about taking some courses too,” she offered, directly on schedule. It was her goal to “better” me. She couldn’t fathom that I would want to work a menial job tending the lawns at Oakdale Cemetery while working on my music.
“It’s a great hobby, baby, but what are y’all gonna to do with your life?” she would inevitably ask and each time she did, my hands would close into a fist and I’d dig my nails into my palms until they bled.
> Oh, God. Not Again. How could I expect her to understand? She didn’t have an artistic bone in her body. No one in that God forsaken town did.
The best we could find for live entertainment was karaoke night at Sylvester Cat’s although I had been granted gigs in some of the smaller bars on occasion.
The problem was, no one cared for listening to soulful rock tunes, especially not when the musician was a kid they’d known since he was stealing lollipops from the general store.
Right. It’s impossible to be taken seriously in this one-horse town. I need to get the fuck outta here before those crow’s feet actually become more than figments of my imagination.
“Baby!”
I looked at her reluctantly, knowing I hadn’t heard a word she said.
“What?”
She sat back, her straw blonde hair falling over her bony shoulders as she folded her arms under her breasts.
“I don’t understand y’all!” she complained. “Why do I even bother?”
Lack of options? Glutton for punishment? Stupidity? Creature of habit?
Of course, I didn’t volunteer any of my theories.
“Why are you upset now?” I sighed. “If this is about going to school, I’ve already told you I’m not going back. I already have a degree in musical engineering and producing from Tulane in case you’ve forgotten.”
Why did I feel the need to bring that up? It had to have been more for my own benefit than hers, a reminder that I had not wasted my life up to this point. I still had a degree which I did absolutely nothing with.
It was as if she had read my mind.
“And look whatcha y’all doin’ with your life!” she protested. “Y’all mowin’ graves for the love of God!”
She was giving me the out I needed and I took it with glee. I needed to get it done. Right. Fucking. Now. This was going to be the easiest break up ever. She was going to be the asshole this time, and that always made things so much easier.
But before I could play my “hurt” card, she leaned forward to clasp my hands in hers, catching me off guard.
“I have a plan for us, babe, but y’all have to work with me.”
Marrying the Wrong Twin: A Billionaire Marriage Mistake Romance Page 12
