by R. R. Banks
“I thought that I was supposed to be on a strict diet,” she said.
There was a hint of suspicion in her voice as if she thought that I was perhaps testing her. I laughed and leaned forward slightly so I could speak to her in a conspiratorial whisper.
“It’ll be our little secret,” I said. “That diet is mostly Flora’s doing, anyway.” I straightened and took a long sip of my own coffee, sighing happily as the heat slid down my throat and started to ease the tension in my muscles that the cold had put into them. “We’ll call the coffee a farewell. No more caffeine after next week.”
She looked at the cup in her hand and then back at me.
“To getting through nine months on only the high of life,” she said, lifting the cup as if in a toast.
“Almost ten months, technically,” I said.
“I’m going to need at least two pastries,” she said, lifting her cup a little higher.
I lifted my cup with a laugh and we both took deep sips before she selected her first pastry.
“How is the move going?” I asked.
Rue nodded as she chewed.
“Unbelievably fast,” she said. “In fact, I think that they’re almost finished. I was all geared up to sleep here tonight, but I don’t have a bed anymore.”
“I told you it would be finished in one day,” I said.
“I was just planning on staying so that I could take care of the cleaning and stuff. I’ve heard that this landlord is a beast when it comes to security deposits, and I’m determined to be the one who cracks her.”
I laughed.
“Well, I already have a cleaning crew on call, ready for when the moving crew has emptied out the apartment. I can assure you that they will leave it cleaner than when you came in. And if there are any damages, I can get somebody in to fix those the next day.”
Rue looked back at her apartment with a contemplative expression.
“There is that spot on the ceiling where Christopher tried to make popcorn and the broken French door from Tessie’s Tai Chi phase.”
“Those shouldn’t be a problem,” I said, even though in the back of my mind I was really in need of a bit more information about these two people and the tragedies that had apparently befallen Rue’s apartment.
She turned back to me and held up her cup again.
“Here’s to getting security deposits back.”
“Here’s to getting security deposits back.”
I tapped the rim of my cup against hers and smiled as we both took sips again and watched as the moving crew carried the last few boxes out of her apartment and piled them into the moving trucks lined up along the road. When they were finished, I turned to Rue.
“Would it be presumptuous to ask to come along with you to your new place and make sure you get settled in alright?” I asked.
Rue looked uncomfortable, her eyes sliding toward her apartment as she hemmed-and-hawed for a few moments.
“Well,” she said, her voice trailing out as though she were trying to take as much time as she could so that she could come up with something to say. “It’s just that…I was planning on meeting up with Christopher and Tessie later.”
I could tell that she didn’t want me to go along with her, and though that made me want to even more, I knew that I couldn’t force her to let me accompany her. I nodded.
“That’s alright,” I said. “Maybe some other time. Could I at least interest you in a warm car and the rest of our coffee and pastries?”
She smiled, her eyes lighting up with relief, and nodded.
“I’d like that.”
Chapter Eleven
Rue
Dear Baby,
Are you in there? I wish I knew. The procedure was only three days ago so I have a little bit of time before I’ll know for sure. I hope that you are. Somehow, it’s like I can feel that things have changed. I think that I can feel you there. At least, I hope that I am.
The procedure wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as I thought it was going to be. It was incredibly awkward, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that there is any way that anybody could go through something like that without it being awkward, especially considering I knew that Richard, your daddy, was sitting right outside in the waiting room. It went so fast, though, and the doctor was so gentle, I had to ask if it had actually happened and I was all finished. The one really good thing about us deciding to use my egg instead of another donor’s was that there was no need to do an extraction and go through all of that. The doctor just had me track my ovulation and then come in when it was time. That did mean that this all happened much more quickly than I think that I really had in mind.
I’m glad that it is done, though. I think that if it was to keep stretching on that my nerves would get the best of me. This way, the scariest part is finished. Well, maybe the second-scariest part. The really scary part is going to be taking the test to see if the procedure worked and you are actually in there. The doctor said that we’re waiting for implantation. Essentially, if you are in there right now, you aren’t snuggled up in place yet. So, if you are, stay safe on your travels and get comfortable soon. We’ll know in about a week.
The timing seems very appropriate. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I can’t think of anything that I would like to be more thankful for this year than to know that you are coming and my Grammyma’s home is safe and secure. I’ve been back in the house for almost two weeks now and I feel like I might be starting to get used to being here again. I think I’ve already told you that the house is in my hometown, a tiny little place called Whiskey Hollow, but now that I’m hoping that it will be your home for the next nine, almost ten, months, I thought that I would tell you a little more about it.
They say that the area got the name Whiskey Hollow when a group of convicts escaped from the chain gang by spiking the guard’s water bucket with the prison alcohol that they had made in their cells and smuggled to the worksite by soaking the cuffs of their shirts and then wringing them out into the bucket as they walked by. The alcohol was so potent that the guard was drunk after two gulps, gulps that must have been so big and fast that he didn’t even notice the taste, which I can’t really imagine was anything but horrible. Once he was teetering around, they got their chain slithering so it looked like a giant snake and confused the guard into trying to chase it, which just made him woozy. Soon he tipped over and ended up spread out in the middle of the road, letting the convicts steal his keys. They unlocked themselves and ran, ending up in a cute little valley pretty far from anything. At least, that’s what they thought.
The truth was that they had only just gotten over one hill and were only a couple of miles from the prison when they stopped. Even then, they probably could have gotten away with it all if they hadn’t decided that the liquor that they had given the guard was the greatest thing ever made and a gift from the Almighty. Unfortunately, this is what led them to deciding they were going to bless the world with as much of it as they possibly could and sent them into the moonshining business. Now, moonshine is one of those things that’s just going to happen around these parts. It just is. Some of it is pretty extraordinary. A lot of it isn’t. This wasn’t. The moonshine these men made might very well be the reason for lunar eclipses. But soon it was flowing through the valley and drawing people from all kinds of other little villages and towns who had been living dry and were ready to get a little damp.
Any time there is that much unregulated liquor going around, there is going to be some drama. Well, this drama came in the form of two of the original escaped convicts having a disagreement over the direction of their moonshining business. This turned into having words and that turned into one of them dancing naked on the roof of the old chapel that had been in those parts for goodness knows how long, twirling torches he had soaked in the most recent batch of his rival’s moonshine. The details of how exactly that happened are a little fuzzy, but what happened after isn’t. Once the man had been dancing for a while, the fumes of the moonshine torches got
to him and he ended up falling off. The rest of the people who had started forming up the little village had no choice but to go for help and this meant that outsiders had to come in. The doctors came to scoop the man up and try to piece him back together and noticed that the whole place was full of moonshine. Like, seriously. Bathtubs. Buckets. The odd baby bottle. It was everywhere.
Of course, the police swarmed the place and started gathering up the escapees and the other moonshiners. Most of them went fairly easily considering they had been drinking in vigil for their fallen comrade. Literally fallen, not dead. He was pulling through pretty alright, though I hear that the fall caused a few injuries that made it far less likely that he was going to be doing any kind of naked dancing any time thereafter. A couple of those who were a bit more capable of handling their moonshine tried to fight off the posse, but all they had was a bunch of several-day old loaves of bread. They threw them and then tried to use them as swords. Clearly, this didn’t hold them off and the police had to take them in quite literally kicking and screaming. Around these parts, this is what’s thought of as the real Whiskey Rebellion. From then on, this little area was known as Whiskey Hollow.
The Hollow might not be quite that adventurous anymore, but it’s still got its color. The vast majority of the people who are born there, stay there. It makes for some interesting characters. I’ll try to tell you about them some other time. I don’t know how much I can really say without your parents getting upset with me. Maybe I’ll run some of the stories by them before I tell you. Maybe. At this point I’m still not sure if I even want either of them to see the Hollow. I don’t think they’d understand it. They might also worry about this being the first place that you call home, even if you’re contained safely within me and won’t have the chance to meet the likes of Sue Ellen Berry or Jeb Montaigne.
I’ll be thinking about you tomorrow. Christopher has been called home for Thanksgiving, which is completely strange since his parents have spent the holiday on a cruise for the last 10 years, so of course they would choose this year to decide to give Norman Rockwell a run for their money. Tessie and I were invited to join them, but frankly the stories I’ve heard about that family make the Hollow look calm and sophisticated, so I don’t think that I’m prepared to handle it. Instead, Tessie is supposed to come here, and we’ll eat and then usher in the Christmas season with some movies and approximately a gallon of egg nog. In honor of the potential of you, and since Christopher will not be there with us when the movies start, I won’t be adding any rum. Or moonshine for that matter.
I hope you enjoy the turkey, mashed potatoes, and dressing. Those are my favorite. I’ll slip a few peas in there, too, just for the vitamins.
Happy Thanksgiving Baby,
Rue
Chapter Twelve
Richard
“Are you sure that this is the right place?”
I peered out of the window at the scenery that was rushing past the limo as Abraham drove me further and further away from the city. It had been an hour already and it didn’t seem as though we were really getting any closer to any other civilization.
“I’m using the GPS, sir.”
“And this is where it’s telling you to go?”
“That’s generally the purpose of a GPS, sir.”
Since I had scheduled the moving crew for Rue to get her settled in I had the address of the home she was now living in, her grandmother’s house. I hadn’t heard from her in the days since the procedure and I wanted to make sure that she was doing alright. I knew that she was without family and thought that she would appreciate some friendly company for Thanksgiving, but the further that we went, the more it seemed like an intrusion on her. Now that we seemed to be disappearing into the great unknown, I was questioning whether this was really the right choice. I should have invited her to spend the holiday with me rather than inviting myself over to her house.
With us. Damn. I really needed to work on that.
Just as I was losing all hope that we were getting anywhere near where Rue might be, I started seeing little buildings popping up in front of me. I wanted to be relieved, but I was seeing nothing taller than two stories and none of the buildings looked like houses.
“Is it another apartment?” I asked Abraham.
I saw my driver shake his head in front of me and found myself hoping that the holiday bonus that I was planning on giving him when he dropped me back off at home was going to be worth his family having to push their dinner back by a few hours.
“No, sir,” Abraham said. “This isn’t where Miss Rue lives. She’s in Whiskey Hollow. It’s still a few minutes down the road.”
“Whiskey Hollow?” I asked. “Is that a real place?”
“It is. This you’re seeing now is their version of downtown.”
There was no judgement in Abraham’s voice, but I could feel the distaste rising in me the longer that we were in the town and then as we passed through and continued on.
She couldn’t be serious. This was where Rue lived?
Finally, we passed a few houses and then Abraham pulled into an open gravel area in front of a house. I looked out over the parking area before I stepped out. Grass and tiny trees were peeking out from the gravel in so many areas that it looked more like a ragged section of yard that had been scattered heavily with gravel rather than a gravel section.
“Is everything alright?” Abraham asked.
“Oh,” I said, realizing that I didn’t know how long I had been dangling partway out of the limo looking at the parking area. “Yes. Everything’s fine. Will you wait for me? I’m going to make sure that she’s up for a visit. If she is, you can go on back and I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
I climbed out of the car and reached back inside to take out the bundle of autumn flowers and the sparkling grape juice that I had brought along with me. I heard Abraham squealing away even before I stepped up onto the porch. It was probably for the best. If I knew that he was waiting it was entirely possible that I wasn’t going to actually climb up onto the porch that looked like it was sagging a tad too much for my comfort, and instead go running back to the limo.
In the back of my mind I knew that wasn’t true. I wanted to see Rue.
I cautiously climbed up the stairs and reached out to press the doorbell. When I didn’t hear any ring from within the house, I knocked on the door. There was a scrambling of footsteps from inside and then I saw the curtains on the window beside the door rustle. Rue’s face appeared in the small gap that she created by pushing the fabric aside and I smiled at her. She did not smile in return.
Her face disappeared, and I heard footsteps coming toward the door. I waited for the sound of a lock, but didn’t hear one. Instead, the doorknob turned, and the door opened enough that she could peer out at me. Her hair hung on the sides of her face and there was a streak of flour on one cheek.
I didn’t know that that actually happened to people when they cooked.
I could see that she was wearing an apron over her clothes and it had various spots and splotches on it. Her eyes ran up and down me a few times and then she pushed her hair back behind her ear as though she were trying to make herself look more presentable.
“Hi,” she said. “Did I forget an appointment today?”
I shook my head.
“Oh, no. No, you didn’t forget anything. I was just…” I wanted to say, ‘in the neighborhood’ but I knew that that was beyond not feasible. “I hadn’t heard from you and I wanted to stop by and say hello and Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Oh,” she said, “Happy Thanksgiving. Um,” she glanced over her shoulder at the house behind her, “would you like to come in?”
I nodded, and she stepped aside, trying to brush herself off and straighten her appearance as she allowed me inside. The house was decidedly old with the entire building having a sense of settling around it, not as though it were going to fall over at any minute, but rather like it had lived a long life and was now tired and trying to
rest. Warm, rich smells surrounded me, and I drew them into my lungs, for the first time realizing that I missed that. It had been five years since I had been home for Thanksgiving. Work schedules and obligations had kept me from being able to celebrate most of the time, and the one year that I had cleared my schedule and planned to go home, Flora had complained so much that I ended up going home with her. Even then it didn’t feel like Thanksgiving. There they served soup, fish, and fruit, and instead of sitting by the fire at the end of the meal or even starting to decorate for Christmas, we ended up going out and playing a round on her father’s private golf course. It might have seemed like a nice tradition if it hadn’t felt like he was just trying to impress me and show that even though he didn’t have even half the wealth that I had achieved independently, not to mention what I had from my family, that their worth was still high enough to justify my guided attachment to Flora. That made the entire experience feel like a dog and pony show, which made me uncomfortable to say the least.
Rue’s house didn’t feel like that, though. I could smell all of the traditional foods that I remembered from when I was younger and there was a warmth in the space that I hadn’t felt since I was a child, perhaps not even then. I looked around myself for a moment before turning my attention back to her.
“I’m sorry if I’m intruding,” I said. “I knew that you didn’t have any family, but I can tell you’ve been cooking. Your friends are probably here.”
She started walking toward the kitchen before responding and I fell into step behind her. Taking her place at the stove, she leaned against the side and stirred a pot, adding a new layer of rich smells to the air. She sighed, her shoulders dropping slightly as she stared into what she was cooking.
“Actually, I’m alone today,” she said. “Christopher is with his family and Tessie was supposed to come over, but she woke up this morning with the flu. I told her that she should stay at home and get some rest. I’ll bring some turkey soup by to her in a couple of days.”
