Hey Sunshine

by Tia Giacalone

  A wave of nausea crept over me and I jumped up and ran to the dirty bathroom in the corner of the motel room rented to J.D. Warren, the bull-riding distraction I’d kept busy with for the past month. Crouching next to the toilet, I cried as I emptied the contents of my stomach for the third morning that week. Up came the five beers mixed with pizza as I heaved and sobbed.

  Damn it, Avery. I can’t believe you did this to yourself. I stood up shakily and wiped my mouth, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My behavior and my appearance were both unrecognizable. “Most Organized” in the yearbook didn’t wear skimpy tank tops like this, she didn’t drink shitty beer and stay out all night, and she certainly didn’t shack up with sleazy but charming rodeo cowboys at crappy motels.

  And yet.

  I rinsed my face with lukewarm water and tried to ignore the paper bag on the counter, but it was impossible. J.D. wasn’t around right now, which meant it was the perfect time to get this over with, if there was a perfect time for such an event. I read the instructions carefully, took the test, and settled back to wait for the longest three minutes of my life.

  PREGNANT. The results came up seconds later, immediately, unmistakably. My hands shook as I picked up the plastic stick and stared at the word that was changing the rest of my life. My knees almost gave out but I stumbled back to the nightstand and grabbed my cell phone. My instinct said to get the hell out of here, go home and tell my parents everything. We’d argued more lately than ever before in my life, and I needed to fix it.

  Pregnant. Suddenly everything was up in the air – Oberlin, my future, all of it. I looked around the dingy room. What exactly was I doing here? And where was J.D.? It was only nine a.m., and he wasn’t exactly a morning person. Before I told my parents, I needed to tell my baby’s father. As his cell phone rang, I realized that his clothes weren’t strewn all over the floor like usual, and my stomach churned again.

  For the second time that summer, I sat alone in a room and listened to a recorded voice telling me that a boy I hoped I could count on wasn’t coming back.

  Chapter 2

  Four Months Ago

  TO: AVERY KENT

  FROM: CHASE DEMPSEY

  SUBJECT: DON’T DELETE THIS

  Hey Avery,

  I know we haven’t talked in a long time, but I’m leaving here soon and I miss you. If you don’t hate me too much, please write back. I don’t know where you are, but I want to see you. Tell me where to go.

  I sat back in my dad’s desk chair and took a deep breath. I tucked my shaking fingers into the pockets of my hooded sweatshirt and stared at the screen. This email was the very last thing I expected today. It had been almost four years since I’d heard from Chase Dempsey directly.

  Indirectly, I’d heard plenty about the Hotshot-crew search-and-rescue firefighter, splitting his time between the wilderness of Alaska and the Washington state forests. Chase had passed up a potential shot at the NFL to save people, trees, and cute furry animals in need. He was the hometown hero, and the Dempseys – despite their initial disappointment – made sure that no one forgot about him even though he had never bothered to contact any of his old friends.

  I picked up my cell phone and dialed.

  “Guess what?” I said when Heather answered.

  “You reconsidered a blind date with the guy in my fondant decorating class?” she said hopefully.

  “The answer to that one is still no, sorry.” I laughed in spite of my jumping nerves. “You’ll never guess, actually, so I’ll just tell you.”

  “I don’t know why you always set me up for failure,” Heather grumbled.

  “Chase emailed me,” I blurted. “Today, just now.”

  “What?!” she shrieked. “Are you serious? What did he say?”

  “Not much. Just that he was leaving Alaska or wherever, and he missed me and wanted to see me.” I stared at the words on the computer screen again, wondering if I’d misread them somehow.

  “Radio silence for almost four years, he never visits or even calls, and now he misses you? It’s insulting, really. Ridiculous!”

  “I know,” I said slowly.

  Tell me where to go.

  He has no idea what I’m doing, or what’s happened since he’s been gone, I realized. The Dempseys made sure the whole town knew of Chase’s accomplishments, but I doubted they had ever mentioned me. Typical. And probably for the best.

  “Are you– are you going to write him back?” Heather asked, and I could almost feel her dubiousness through the phone.

  “I don’t know yet.” I bit my tongue at the lie. Just seeing Chase’s name in my inbox made my heart beat triple time. All the feelings I'd thought were gone or well buried came flying to the surface, and suddenly I was seventeen again and the all-state quarterback was asking me for a date.

  “Just think about it before you do anything, okay, Avery? I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

  “I won’t,” I said absentmindedly, still staring at the computer. But I knew it was too late for that the minute I read his email.

  TO: CHASE DEMPSEY

  FROM: AVERY KENT

  SUBJECT: RE: DON’T DELETE THIS

  Chase,

  I don’t hate you. I wanted to, because I was really hurt, but I can’t. I’m not sure what your parents might have told you but I’m still in Brancher… I never left.

  TO: AVERY KENT

  FROM: CHASE DEMPSEY

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: DON’T DELETE THIS

  Hi Avery,

  Thanks for replying. I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I’m glad to hear you don’t hate me, although I couldn’t blame you if you did. If I come home, will you see me, please? Dinner? We can talk. You’re right, my folks never told me anything, so I assumed you’d gone to Oberlin. What happened?

  Chase was taking this seriously. It took me three days to decide whether or not to write him back, but once I sent my reply he answered within hours. The question remained: how much did I tell him? What did he deserve to know?

  TO: CHASE DEMPSEY

  FROM: AVERY KENT

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: DON’T DELETE THIS

  I’m not sure about dinner. Everything is different now. I don’t know where to start.

  TO: AVERY KENT

  FROM: CHASE DEMPSEY

  SUBJECT: START HERE

  I want a second chance with you. Catch me up, and I’ll be in Brancher in four months.

  * * *

  Spilling my guts to Chase wasn’t exactly what I planned to do over the summer, but that’s exactly what was happening. After the basic outline of the past four years, we were filling in the blanks with details… and feelings.

  TO: CHASE DEMPSEY

  FROM: AVERY KENT

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: FOUR YEARS PART TWO

  It was hard and often terrifying, but I’m really proud of what I’ve done on my own – going back to school, raising Annabelle, working, all of it. She makes everything worth it.

  TO: AVERY KENT

  FROM: CHASE DEMPSEY

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: FOUR YEARS PART TWO

  I’m sorry that happened to you, with the hospital and everything. I hate hospitals. J.D. sounds like an asshole. You’re so much better than that. Anyone who walks out on someone who cares about them is an idiot, trust me I know from personal experience. I’m trying to fix my own mistakes now – and you’re at the top of that list.

  “I was so afraid to tell him about what happened when Annabelle was born, how I couldn’t have more children,” I told Heather over breakfast. We were sitting in the back booth at The Kitchen before I started my shift, and I was catching her up on the latest emails from Chase.

  “But he was fine with it, right?” Heather wrinkled her nose at the croissant on her plate. “I need to use more butter next time. This batch is dry.”

  I snagged it and took a bite. “Tastes good to me.” I swallowed and smiled at her. “He was sweet. Just said that he was sorry I went through all that. Oh, and that J.D. is an idiot.
”

  “Finally!” Heather exclaimed. “We agree on something!”

  TO: AVERY KENT

  FROM: CHASE DEMPSEY

  SUBJECT: RE: ME & ANNABELLE

  I still can’t believe you have a three year old. Thanks for sending me the picture. She’s pretty, she looks just like you. I know you’ll get into NYU, don’t worry. I’d like to go back to school, pick up that business degree I never got around to. Maybe New York would be a good place to do it.

  TO: CHASE DEMPSEY

  FROM: AVERY KENT

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: ME & ANNABELLE

  I’ll be on pins and needles until I have the acceptance letter in my hand. It could change everything in the best way, especially if you wanted to be a part of it. To me, New York seems like the place where anything can happen.

  Chase and I had something once, something exciting, and nostalgia combined with a heavy dose of optimism made me believe we could make it work the second time around.

  That optimist waited like a giddy schoolgirl for his emails, blushed ridiculously at his deep voice during our phone calls – when we were both available, and he had cell reception – and basically just regressed to her high-school-senior self whenever she pictured his tall, handsome silhouette on the football field, waving confidently at her like he had every Friday night for a year.

  He took me back to a time when my only worries were final exams and curfew, and for those fleeting moments it felt right, like nothing had changed. My version of feminism didn’t exclude the idea that I could have it all: the husband, the family, and the career. I might’ve gone about it in a less than ideal way, but it was still my dream.

  TO: AVERY KENT

  FROM: CHASE DEMPSEY

  SUBJECT: COUNTDOWN

  Just a couple more days, babe. I can’t wait to see you. It’s been way too long. Our second chance started with that first email, but it starts for real now.

  “What are you smiling about?” my mother asked from across the desk.

  We were sitting in the diner’s tiny office, my mother going through paperwork and ordering forms while I caught up on some studying.

  “Nothing…” As hard as I tried, I couldn’t keep the smirk off my face.

  “Let me guess… that ‘nothing’ wouldn’t happen to be a long-lost brave and handsome man, would it?” she teased. “Sending you emails of love and devotion?”

  I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hold back laughter. “Stop!”

  My parents made their opinion on my potential reconciliation with Chase very clear. A practical option, she said. A solid choice, he agreed. The best of the worst, according to Heather, who had never liked Chase very much to begin with but was determined to be supportive.

  My mom rose and patted my hand as she exited the room. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”

  TO: CHASE DEMPSEY

  FROM: AVERY KENT

  SUBJECT: RE: COUNTDOWN

  I’m counting the minutes.

  Chapter 3

  Present Day

  I heard stirring from the bedroom across the hall and tiptoed to peek in. A little face turned toward me, silky blond curls tousled and sleepy blue eyes blinking me into focus. Annabelle was sprawled in the corner of her toddler bed, one arm wrapped around her baby doll, the other hand up by her face with her thumb in her mouth. When she saw me, the thumb popped out and her face lit up.

  “Mama!” she cried, dropping the doll and holding her arms out.

  “Hi, baby girl,” I said, crossing the room and reaching down to pick her up. “Did you have a nice nap?”

  She burrowed her head into my neck, resting her sweet cheek on my shoulder. “Yes, Mama. My sleepy time is all done.” Her baby lisp always made me smile. I kissed the top of her head and smoothed her curls away from her face.

  Bending down, I picked up her doll before I carried her out into the hallway. At three years old, she could easily walk but I cherished the cuddle time because I knew it was fleeting. Already, her babyhood went by too fast.

  “Do you want a snack?” I asked her. “Auntie Heather is coming back and then we’re going to The Kitchen, but dinner won’t be for a while.” Kent’s Kitchen, my parents’ diner and my place of employment, would be busy all afternoon. Tonight they were hosting Chase’s welcome home party and would keep Annabelle with them while Heather and I met the bus. That was best, I’d decided. I was determined to take this slowly, to protect my heart and Annabelle’s.

  “Okay, a snack!” Annabelle nodded. “Some crackers, Mama? And cheese?”

  “Sure, baby. Let’s sit here and wait for Auntie Heather while you eat.” I wanted to dig into the sample cookies that Heather had made last night from new recipes for her bakery business, but I resisted. Nervous eating definitely wouldn’t help me fit into any borrowed dresses. I got Annabelle settled at her little table in the living room and put a cartoon on the small TV in the bookshelf.

  I tried to make our tiny cottage as cozy as possible despite its cramped rooms and weathered floors, and I felt like I succeeded with our mix of eclectic furniture, bright throw pillows, and textured rugs. My dad helped out with the more complex handyman chores, and I was proud of my home. It was mine – I’d paid for it, painted it, cared for it, and raised my baby in it. Of course, it lacked the grandeur of the Dempsey family ranch but the warmth was there.

  I shuddered inwardly a bit at the idea of seeing Chase’s parents again. Living in close proximity to fewer than a thousand residents, not counting the widespread ranching contingent, we’d encountered each other from time to time, but since my email reconnection with Chase I’d gone all-out to avoid running into Janice and Ron or Chase’s sister Elise. They weren’t the type to frequent my parents’ diner, and I wasn’t sure how to interact with them without feeling inadequate.

  One snide glance from Janice Dempsey was enough to remind me that I was from her idea of the wrong side of an impossibly small town, not fit to date her son, and quite possibly the reason that he had bolted to the Pacific Northwest in the first place. And then there was the part where they’d never told Chase about my staying in Brancher. I was sure I’d proven every one of Janice’s theories right when I got pregnant with Annabelle and changed my future.

  My parents were kind enough to host an all-town welcome home party for Chase at The Kitchen, but the Dempseys weren’t attending. Chase told me that they’d invited some of their business contacts and society friends to a small dinner party at the ranch, and that we were expected to make an appearance there as soon as we were able. I was dreading it, of course, but I knew that interacting with the Dempseys went along with my second chance with Chase.

  When Heather returned, I was tidying up my kitchen after making Annabelle’s snack, more to keep my hands busy than because it needed cleaning.

  “Here.” Heather dumped a pile of dresses on the counter. “One of these has to work. Go try them on, hurry up!”

  “I really appreciate this. You know that, right? All of it,” I said, alluding to the fact I knew she wasn’t fully on board the Chase/Avery train.

  Heather snorted again, smoothing her already perfect hair. “I know, silly. Now go get dressed.”

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, Heather and I were standing nervously in a crowd outside the Greyhound station, straining for a glimpse of Chase’s bus. At least, I was nervous and fidgety. Heather looked bored and a little apprehensive but she smiled when she caught me actually wringing my hands.

  “Avery, relax! It’s not like you’ve never met the guy,” she laughed.

  I looked down at my twisted fingers. “I know. It’s just… everything is different now.” My gaze met Heather’s, and the knowing look in her pretty brown eyes brought tears to my own.

  Sliding up next to me, Heather slung an arm around my waist. “Look, you and Annabelle, y’all deserve way better than him, okay? The way he left, he’s lucky you’re even giving him the time of day. You don’t need him to want you, Avery. Make him work for it. You’
re a great mama and a smart cookie. Never forget that.”

  I returned Heather’s squeeze, straightening my spine and pulling my shoulders back. She was right. If this had any chance of working, Chase and I needed to start on equal ground. Chase’s money, his family's influence, and his near-legendary status in Brancher didn’t matter to me anymore.

  Shy, naive, high school Avery was gone; she'd disappeared the day of that positive pregnancy test. In her place was the new Avery: strong and maybe a little jaded but still doing it all. I’d proven to myself over the last three years that I could do anything, even when I was bone tired, sick, or beyond discouraged. I could certainly meet this bus and whatever came along with it.

  * * *

  I’d been anticipating this exact moment for a long time. The bus idled in front of us, exhaust billowing in the thick Texas air, rumbling engine all but drowning out the excited twitters from the anxious crowd.

  Somewhere on that bus, between traveling ranch hands, returning vacationers, and those just passing through, somewhere in there was a man I used to know. If I believed everything Chase said, he might even be the one for me and that puppy love could turn into something real. I was willing to take that chance on might, willing to believe his earnestly spoken words and promises until he gave me reason not to. We owed nostalgia that much.

  The old Greyhound’s creaky door eased open and passengers began to disembark. At five foot seven, I wasn’t the tallest person in the crowd but I could see farther than Heather, much to her irritation.

  “Do you see him? Do you see anything?”

  “Not yet. Wait, is that him? No.” I rose up onto my tiptoes, my boot heels sticking slightly to the hot asphalt for just a second before allowing the bend.

  I should’ve known the crowd would alert me to Chase’s presence before my eyes did. A huge cheer erupted when he appeared, framed in the bus’s doorway, and his usual smirk wavered for a second but then cemented itself firmly in place. We’d Skyped a few times, but with my horrible internet connection it was more frozen pixellation than actual video, so I still felt unprepared.