Even though I know Bettie isn’t the touchy-feely type, my hand automatically reaches for hers where she’s still propped up on the bed next to me, listening silently to Emma Jo speak right along with me. She doesn’t pull away when my fingers lace with hers. She squeezes them tighter and holds on for dear life.
“When I was in the hospital and they asked me if there was an emergency contact I could call, I didn’t hesitate to give them your information. I needed strength. I needed someone who could make a decision that I hadn’t been able to make for twelve years. Someone who was always stronger than me, smarter than me, and would never in a million years let herself get to the point I was at – hopeless and just wanting it to end, however that had to happen.”
Emma Jo finally turns away from the window, wiping a few tears from her cheeks that fell while she spoke, giving me a shaky smile.
“I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t gotten on that plane and showed up at the hospital. Actually, yes I do,” she says with a humorless laugh. “I knew there was a full bottle of sleeping pills in my medicine cabinet that would do the trick. Finally end all of this bullshit and give me some peace. But you did it. You showed up and you saved me. You kicked my ass into gear, got me out of the hospital, and gave me a reason to keep fighting. So I fought. When you were passed out on my living room floor, I made a decision and I fought and I took back my life. I’m not sorry for what I did, but I am sorry for everything that happened after and how you got caught in the middle of it. I never wanted that to happen.”
She stops speaking and the silence is so thick in the room I can almost see it clouding the air. I’m in shock at what she just sort of admitted, but then again, I’m not. There’s only so much a woman can take before you push her too far. Emma Jo was pushed far beyond her breaking point and like she said, she just wanted it to end. She just wanted some peace.
“Jesus Christ, and I thought I was a scary bitch,” Bettie mutters. “Remind me to never piss you off.”
Emma Jo smiles, a little less sad this time.
“I killed him, and then I buried the award back in the woods where no one will find it,” I whisper, repeating the words Emma Jo shouted when the two of us were fighting back and forth, when I thought Emma Jo was trying to cover for me knowing about the murder weapon with Leo, and I refused to let her do it. “You weren’t just shouting whatever you could to protect me, were you?”
She doesn’t say anything for a little while and then she shrugs.
“It was an ugly, stupid fucking award.”
I can’t help it, I laugh. It’s sick and it’s fucked up and if I were a different person, I would be picking up the phone and calling the police, but I’m not a different person. I’m strong and I’m stubborn, and if you’re my friend, I will do everything I can to protect you and I will take your secrets with me to the grave.
It doesn’t take long for Bettie to join me in laughter, and then Emma Jo comes back to the bed, curls up next to us, and the three of us laugh until tears are streaming down our cheeks. Happy ones, instead of sad ones, for the first time in a long time.
“Alright, bitches, that’s enough nonsense. It’s time to get serious,” Bettie suddenly announces, pushing herself up to her knees. “Payton, we need to fix you. You’re broken and it’s too late to return you and get our money back, so who has any ideas?”
“I’m not broken, I’m just sad. I’ll get over it once I get back to Chicago and things get back to normal,” I reply, the urge to cry when I say that out loud so strong that it almost chokes me.
“Have you realized she just says Chicago now and doesn’t call it home?” Emma Jo asks Bettie.
“Oh yeah, I totally noticed. She’s not fooling anyone,” she replies.
“I love her, but she really is kind of an idiot about some things. What should we do?” Emma Jo questions, tapping her finger against her lip in concentration.
“First thing we need to do is drag her out of bed and hose her off. She smells like regurgitated milk and bad decisions,” Bettie complains, plugging her nose.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here, assholes,” I complain. “And I don’t smell that bad.”
Pulling my tank top up to my nose, I take a whiff and cringe.
“Okay, so maybe I do need a shower, but still. I’m not an idiot, and just because I didn’t call Chicago home means nothing.”
Emma Jo and Bettie both share a look and then they laugh.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to laugh at someone? Were you raised by a pack of wolves?” I grumble in annoyance.
“We’ll stop laughing at you when you stop saying stupid shit that makes us laugh,” Bettie informs me. “Sorry, babe, but survey says – Chicago is no longer home. This is your home. It’s always been your home. I didn’t believe it until I got here and saw it with my own two gorgeous eyes, but you belong here, Payton. These crazy people are your people. Sure, they’re always all up your ass and in your business, but it’s not that annoying when they’re doing it to protect you.”
She’s right. In my head, I know the words she’s saying are true, but I can’t get my head and my heart on the same page right now.
“Sure, they like me now, but what happens when they turn on me again and think I’m out to corrupt all the innocent people who live here?” I question.
“Then you’d have a hulking, beast of a man who fucks like a God and loves your crazy ass for some strange reason, to stick up for you and protect you and tell everyone to mind their own business,” Bettie fires back.
“I screwed it up. He’ll never forgive me,” I whisper.
“You don’t know that unless you try. You taught me how to be a fighter, and now it’s my turn to return the favor. Get your ass out of bed and fight for what you want, Payton,” Emma Jo says.
“But…what about Liquid Crack? I mean, I can’t just stay here and forget about my shop and leave it to someone else to run,” I argue.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing by franchising it?” Bettie asks in annoyance. “Other people are going to be running Liquid Cracks all over the U.S. You can’t be in a hundred places at once, and hello? Give me a little credit here. I’d run that place much better than you anyway,” Bettie smirks.
Suddenly, my sad and broken heart starts to heal a little bit at a time as I think about what Bettie is saying. She’s right. There are going to be Liquid Cracks all over the place and it’s not like I ever planned on being at all of them. I put my faith in the investors and the lawyers to help me choose the right people to open up and run my babies in whatever state they want, and I need to trust those people to run them how I would. I need to trust this town I grew up in to take care of me when I need it and do the same for them. I need to let go of the idea that I can’t grow here and I can’t be who I want to be here. And I need to let go of my fear of falling in love. I already fell, I was just too stupid to admit it to the one person who needed to know it.
I hear a knock at the door downstairs and a huge smile spreads across Emma Jo’s face when she jumps up from the bed.
“The cavalry is here!” she announces.
“Finally,” Bettie sighs. “Any more of this After School Special bullshit and I was going to slit my wrists.”
She gets up from the bed and stands next to Emma Jo, the two of them looking down at me expectantly.
“What’s going on? Who’s here?” I ask when we hear another, louder knock at the front door.
“Just a few neighbors and friends I invited over. They’ve heard some rumors about how you have this amazing coffee machine that makes delicious coffee and they’re pretty excited about trying it. Some of them have even started up a petition that you should open up a Liquid Crack, right here in Bald Knob, can you believe that?” Emma Jo asks slyly.
I can’t believe it. Not at all. Which is why I’m still sitting in bed, staring up at her like she has two heads.
“Now would probably be a
good time to get out of bed and get cleaned up. No one will want your coffee if they’re too busy being disgusted by your atrocious appearance,” Bettie states, yanking the covers off of me, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of bed.
“I’ll go get the door and get everyone comfortable while you get ready. While you’re busy making coffee for the good people of Bald Knob, we’ll come up with a plan for how you can grovel at Leo’s feet, profess your undying love to him, and show him that you aren’t really a crazy person, you just play one on TV,” Emma Jo informs me as she hurries around the bed and leaves the room to answer the door.
“And while she’s doing that, I’ll call the spa. Leo will never want you back if he has to bring out the hedge trimmers and chop shit down between your legs. That’s too much work for any man,” Bettie states, pulling her phone out of her pocket and tapping on the screen as she too leaves the room.
“YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE, YOU KNOW THAT?!” I shout after her.
“LOVE YOU TOO, BUSHY BEAVER, MEAN IT!”
CHAPTER 37
I’m sorry for what I said before I had my coffee.
—Coffee Mug
“You guys didn’t have to come with me.”
Emma Jo takes one hand off the wheel and reaches over to the passenger seat to pat my arm that’s currently wrapped around baby Cecil resting in my lap.
“Of course we did. We’re here to support you. Right, Bettie?” she asks, glancing up to the rearview mirror.
“You’re the moral support chick. I’m just here to watch her walk into the danger zone and crash and burn.”
Turning around in my seat, I glare at Bettie in the back.
“What? I’ll make sure you’re okay first before I point and laugh, like any good friend does.”
She holds her hand out for a fist bump and I ignore it, shifting my body back around to face forward, looking out the front window at the passing landscape of farmland, my leg bouncing nervously in my seat.
“You’re lucky I’m not sitting back there with you, or I’d open up the door and shove you out into oncoming traffic,” I mutter.
“See? That’s the spirit! But FYI, we’re literally in bum-fuck nowhere. We haven’t passed another vehicle or human being since we left Emma Jo’s house,” Bettie reminds me.
“Fine. I’ll push you out in front of a tractor, you cow,” I grumble.
“Alright, children. Don’t make me turn this car around. It’s going to be fine, you’ll see,” Emma Jo reassures, giving me another pat on the arm before putting her hand back on the wheel to turn down Leo’s road.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I should have called first. Given him some kind of warning,” I mutter, adding my second leg to the nervous bouncing until Baby Cecil is flopping around on my lap.
“Never give a man a warning. If he can see what’s coming, that just gives him a chance to run. A sneak attack is always the best maneuver,” Bettie states.
The next few miles pass in complete silence, aside from Bettie singing the song “Danger Zone” under her breath, making my nerves skyrocket and I contemplate asking Emma Jo to turn the car around.
If you would have told me when I first got back to Bald Knob that I’d never want to go back to Chicago and actually wonder why I left in the first place, I would have called someone to have you committed. There is no one more shocked than me that I’d come to that conclusion long before Bettie and Emma Jo kicked my ass out of bed the other day, I just hadn’t realized it until they called me out on it. My decision was cemented when I got out of the shower and joined my friends downstairs to find out that Emma Jo wasn’t lying. Half the town really had shown up to her house to try my coffee.
I spent the rest of the day showing people how Baby Cecil works, making everyone coffee, letting them see pictures of Liquid Crack that I had on my phone, talking about the franchise and just getting to know the people I’d grown up with all over again. When the gathering got to be too crowded for Emma Jo’s house, Starla invited everyone over to her backyard saying, “It’s probably best we don’t go out to Emma Jo’s yard and party on top of the spot where Jed was whacked in the head. Even if dancing on his grave does sound like a fine idea.”
There was a tense moment of silence where everyone looked at each other nervously. Then, Emma Jo laughed and everyone else joined in, making comments and jokes about someone finally putting Jed out of Emma Jo’s misery and how everyone should have been given a chance to punch him in the face one last time before his body was carted away.
This is a town full of sick assholes, but they’re my sick assholes and I’d never been happier to claim them.
Roy Pickerson ran to his bar and brought back a few cases of beer, Andrea Maynard had the owners of The Hungry Bear shut down early and bring over some food, Bettie lit a fire in Starla’s fire pit, and we all sat around listening to Caden Jefferson and his garage band play for us all night. They actually didn’t sound too bad after a few beers, and we all had a great time together. Well, until Buddy was called to the house because after a few beers, Starla thinks she’s a stripper. He stopped by at the end of his shift and it took him twenty minutes to convince her to put her clothes back on, go in the house, and sleep it off.
The best part of the whole night, was when the party disbanded and Buddy stayed behind to help Emma Jo clean up the mess. When I got up around three in the morning to go to the bathroom, I looked out the window and saw the two of them still sitting by the fire talking.
The worst part of the whole night was me constantly looking over my shoulder, hoping Leo would walk into the yard. Buddy tried to explain that he was swamped at the station with all of the paperwork from the murder investigation, as well as getting the farm ready for sweet corn season, but I could see it written all over his face that he didn’t come because I was there.
I startle out of my thoughts when the car slows and turns into Leo’s driveway. We pull off into the grass on the right, parking next to a whole row of cars that have pulled in to buy their sweetcorn for tonight’s dinner.
On the left side of the drive is a long white tent lined with a few strands of large clear bulbs, that were just turned on since the sun is starting to set over the fields on either side of the farmhouse a few acres away. A couple of long tables are lined up under the tent, one holding a cash register and a pile of plastic grocery bags, and I smile when I see the table next to it still holds row after row of boxes of vintage candy. Behind the tables are several huge bins, filled to the top with sweetcorn that was just picked fresh today.
The stand and the land it sits on, as well as the huge white farmhouse off in the distance takes my breath away, but not as much as the man I see walking down to the stand from one of the fields. Our car is parked in between two other cars on the opposite side of the yard where he is and his attention is focused on the stand, which is a good thing. I can take a few minutes to stare at him without him knowing, and boy, what a nice few minutes it is. He’s wearing a pair of tan cargo shorts and a white t-shirt, his hands in his front pockets as he walks until he gets up under the tent and starts shaking hands and greeting the people in line for corn.
“Alright, looks like he’s distracted so now’s our chance to grab everything and get over there,” Emma Jo states, opening her car door.
“Hold on, let me make sure I have video ready to go on my phone. If Payton bites it, I want it documented for future enjoyment,” Bettie says.
I curse at her and she laughs while getting out of the back seat. With one last deep breath for courage while Bettie and Emma Jo get everything out of the trunk, I quickly open my door and get out with Baby Cecil in my arms.
The two of them lead the way and I hide behind them because I’m too much of a chicken shit to face Leo first. I’m hoping that by the time he sees them and says hello, it will be too late and too awkward in front of all these people for him to order me off his property.
I hear his voice speaking to people the closer we get and it brings tears to
my eyes. I’ve missed him and his voice so much that it hurts and it almost makes me want to turn back around and go hide in the car because I’m so afraid that low, baritone voice that I adore so much is going to turn hard and angry when he sees me.
“Don’t you even think about going back to the car,” Emma Jo mutters under her breath to me, reading my mind.
“Ladies,” I hear Leo greet Emma Jo and Bettie with a smile in his voice when we get close enough for him to notice them. “How are you doing this ev-”
He comes to an abrupt halt when the two of them part, and I watch his smile disappear when he sees me, his face a mask of complete nothingness.
I swallow over the lump in my throat, remind myself that I’m a strong woman, and continue to move forward between Emma Jo and Bettie. His eyes stay locked on me as I move under the tent and behind the tables, but I look away to concentrate on what I’m doing before I break down into tears from nerves. One of his workers starts to take orders and fill up bags of sweetcorn for customers while Leo continues to stand there perfectly still where I can see him watching me out of the corner of my eye as I set Baby Cecil down on the table with sweaty hands and plug him into the extension cord connected to the strands of lights.
Emma Jo and Betty busy themselves on the other side of me, setting up the paper cups, lids, cream and sugar, and the other items Emma Jo brought with us. When we’re all finished I power up Baby Cecil while Leo continues staring at me without saying anything.