Jordyn's Army, page 19
I crane my neck until I see the figure who walks in the door. That Ferris wheel creating havoc just turned into a full out tornado, threatening to cause me to lose everything in my stomach.
Weston Crusos walks right into my childhood home.
3
“Annie, you’re green,” Mom whispers into my ear.
“Weston,” Dad greets him.
Bile burns the back of my throat. The soles of my sandals slap down on the hardwood floor as I bolt up, causing my chair to thunder back on the ground. I’m going to lose it all right here and break right in half. Mom and Lacey call my name as I race upstairs. I barely round the corner to my bedroom, sprinting to the bathroom right off it. I make it just in time to empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
My stomach cramps in pain as I retch out, over and over until there is nothing left but dry heaves. Sobs wrack my body as reality settles over my being. Tears spill down my exhausted body that leans on the cold ceramic.
“Annie, girl.”
I turn to see Aunt Willow leaning on the door frame.
“Do you need someone?” She takes a step closer to me.
I nod, unable to speak. Without a word, she folds herself on the tile, wrapping herself around me. This right here is Aunt Willow’s best gift. She’s the one who’s always there no matter what. She never asks questions, pries, or judges. She gives you time, and it’s exactly what I need.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper as hot tears trail down my cheeks. “I’m pregnant.”
I’m not sure why I repeat it. Maybe it’s me convincing myself that I really am. Also, it’s the fact that Braxton has been doing a damn good job of ghosting me since I told him. I chalked it up to him being busy, but that’s just bullshit. I know that now, beyond a shadow of a doubt since being home. My family will be pissed and possibly hurt, but they’d never go silent on me, leaving me to go this alone and so far that’s the only thing he’s done.
“Okay, Annie.” She soothes her palm over my hair, controlling the mess. “How do you feel about it?”
“I don’t know. I’m scared, embarrassed, and numb if that makes any sense at all?”
“Yeah, it does.” She leans her cheek on my shoulder. “I get it. I’ve been there.”
I remain silent, with my forehead pressed into my arm resting on the toilet.
“You gotta talk about it, girl. You have so many people and if it’s too hard to talk to someone, you write it down. Express your fears and joys. This is your life and body. You have an army behind you. The thing is you just have to let us in and not shut us out.”
“Dad’s going to be pissed.” I sit up gently until I’m relaxing on the tub and Willow is facing me.
A slight smirk curves up one corner of her mouth. “That he will be. It’s just a fact, but he’ll get over it.”
Everything I’ve thought the last few weeks spills from my lips in a spatter of randomness. Willow keeps up with all of it.
“Braxton and I were great and now it’s like he’s fallen off the face of the earth.”
“How?”
I tell her how he’s been acting, for the most part going silent on me.
“He’s an athlete like you, right?”
I nod, feeling a jab of pain to my side, realizing once again everything that I’ve screwed up. My future. Scholarship. And the love of the game.
“It could be that he’s just processing all of…”
I interrupt her. “Or that he’s a massive asshole who’s going to run from all of this.” I wipe the tears away from my cheeks.
“That’s very possible as well.” She smiles wide and reaches over grabbing my hand. “You’re one hell of a force to reckon with, Annie. I’ve witnessed it for years and have no doubt whatever you put your mind to that you’ll conquer it, no problems. You’ve got this.”
“Annie.” Dad’s deep voice echoes into the bathroom.
Faster than a damn jackrabbit, Willow leaps to her feet, slams and locks the bathroom door. I caught the briefest second of my father’s face before the door shut.
“Jesus, Willow.” He pounds on the door. “Let me in.”
“No.”
“Yes!” he demands.
“No.”
“I’m going to kick your ass.”
“I’m not seven anymore.” She props her hand on her hip as if he was standing right before her. “Plus my husband could kick your ass blindfolded.”
“Just let me in,” he replies, ignoring her taunts.
“Nope, it’s girl time. No boys allowed.”
There’s a brief pause before Dad talks again. “I just want to check in on my girl.”
“I’m fine, Dad.” I beat Willow to the punch this time. Jesus, this is like a dizzying ride on the merry-go-round.
“Are you sure?” He hesitates for a second. “I didn’t know he’d stop by after he was done working.”
“Great,” I grumble. I knew he worked for various farmers and had his own welding company. “Of course, he’d be working for my dad. The shit storm that just won’t quit shitting.”
Willow turns to me in a panic, clueless where to go with this.
“I’m just going to finish up chatting with Willow then head to bed. It’s been a long day and I’m beat.”
“Okay, but, uh…” he trails off.
“Yes, I know you’re here for me, and seriously Dad, I’m fine.”
“Okay, love you, Annie.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
I wait until I hear the sound of his boots trailing off.
“I’m so screwed.”
Willow takes her place back on the floor across from me. “I’m pretty much clueless about part of that conversation, but what I do know is that you’ve got to tell your dad sooner than later. You heard the guy, he’s worried about you.”
I pick at the string dangling from my top. “I will, and that was Weston that walked in.”
“Oh.” Her eyes grow wide. “As in Weston Crusos, the boy you fake married out in the pasture every summer until you were in middle school.”
“The one and only,” I reply.
“As in your first kiss, prom date, and the boy your dad busted you with in the barn.”
“Stop!” I toss a dry washcloth at her. “You know exactly who he is.”
“Great plot twist.” She strums her fingers against each other.
And with that, we both erupt into a fit of much-needed laughter. Willow gives me one final hug before standing up.
“Take a shower and I’ll cover for you. You need some rest.”
I nod.
“I love you, girl.”
“Love you more.”
Willow was right once again. A hot shower was just what I needed. When I make my way into my room, I spot an old journal and a fortune cookie on my bed. The journal brings back so many memories. Willow bought it for me on my eighth birthday. All the letters she wrote me are pasted on the worn, loved pages along with some serious cheesy middle school thoughts and dreams.
Voices out in the hallway catch my attention. It’s my dad and Willow, exchanging a heated and hushed conversation.
“She’s my daughter.”
“I know, Cree, but right now she needs space and you’ll give that to her.”
“It’s my job to protect her. Dammit, Willow.”
“She’s under your roof and with her family. She is safe and needs space. Lord, you’re such a miserable, overprotective asswipe.”
“And you’re an irritating little brat.”
“Enough,” Mom’s voice cuts in, breaking up the siblings who I can only imagine are nose to nose right now, with Willow tapping her pointer finger on my dad’s chest with every word she speaks. Soon silence settles and I reach for the fortune cookie that was near the journal. It’s another quirky thing about my family; well, it’s more like Miles’s and Willow’s thing. They collect them and save each fortune. They claim it’s what brought them together.
I crack open the cookie catching the crumbs with my hands and placing everything but the narrow piece of paper on my nightstand. Not even a fortune cookie sounds appetizing right now. Let’s see what my future holds.
Tough decisions will have to be made. Stay strong to your roots and soar.
If I had enough energy to laugh at this evil joke I would. It would all be too easy if it were as simple as the fortune. But then there is a tiny whisper in the back of my head that maybe it can really be this simple. The events from the day catch up to me and before I know it my eyelids are fluttering shut. No dreams ever come. The only thing is a peaceful slumber.
4
The great thing about the beginning of summer is that Dad and Mac are out working from sunup to sundown. I’ve had the last three days to myself in the house. I’ve helped Mom prep meals and even put together some of her vinyl signs to take to her shop, ironically enough called The Shop. But besides that, I’ve been left alone to hole up in my bedroom and write in my journal. Aunt Willow has kept her distance but subtly checks on me. I’ve avoided a few family swim trips down at the pond and trips to the ice cream shop, but I’m no fool, and know all of my family will start asking questions soon.
There’s still no word from Braxton. I broke down last night and texted him, getting absolutely nothing but silence in return. This morning I forced myself to shut off my phone and tuck it away. Hell, being back here in my tiny hometown there’s no need for it anyway. You can get a hold of anyone, anywhere, at any time, no cellphone needed. I hated this growing up because it meant your parents found out what and how big you screwed up before you got home.
I pick at the grilled burger on my plate before flopping back on my bed. My appetite is still hit or miss. I’m not even sure what sets off the vomiting spells. I’m thankful I’ve been able to conceal it whenever it hits. I know it won’t last much longer.
Dad and the rest of the men and boys are at some tractor customer appreciation bullshit dinner or something like that. The rest of the crew is downstairs cooking up a storm for the celebration tomorrow.
I flip through the pages I’ve written in the last few days. It’s my reality staring right back at me. Some of it is ugly, while most of the parts are beautiful and I find myself the most excited about them. The page labeled “Braxton” is the hardest to view. I had to say goodbye to him. He’s made it clear how he feels about our situation. Well, now my situation. He’s not the man I thought he was. I guess it’s better to find this out now than five years down the road. That’s what I keep telling myself.
Without thinking, I reach into the drawer of my nightstand and pull out my phone. A sense of freedom and strength takes over me for the briefest of seconds. I’m the only person that can give Braxton control over me and I refuse to do that. The powerful women in my life have taught me no matter how dismal the situation may appear, there is still a choice to be made. And I have to move forward. I turn it on and set it down on the pillow next to me, ignoring all the notifications.
I have no idea how much time passes before there’s a knock at my door and my mom walks in. She’s so damn beautiful, not aging a minute with her thick curly hair and youthful skin.
“Want some company?” she asks, creeping my way with tiny steps.
I nod and pat the bed next to me. She curls right up next to me like she used to do every night until I left for college. She never missed a night, well, except the night Mac was born. She’s always been my person.
Mom doesn’t say anything for a long time, running her fingers through my tangly hair. She hums for a while, causing my eyelids to flutter shut. She drags her finger down my cheek, rubbing in small soothing circles.
“When are you going to tell your dad?” Her whispered question shatters the silence surrounding us.
My eyes pop wide open and my throat dries to sandpaper. I open my mouth, but nothing comes up.
“I know you’re afraid to tell him, but he’ll be crushed knowing you kept it a secret, honey.” She brushes back my bangs. “We love you unconditionally, always.”
“Willow?” I ask.
“She knows?” Mom comes back with a question of her own.
I nod.
She puffs out air in frustration, doing her best to conceal it. “No, Willow didn’t say a word. I’ve been around the block a time or two and knew the moment you walked in the door.”
“I broke down the other night and Willow was there.” I roll over on my back staring at the ceiling with tears stinging the edges of my eyes until they spill over. “It’s not like I confide in her.”
Mom grabs my hand. “It’s okay. Yeah, it stings a bit, but I get it and I’m glad she was there for you.”
“I’m scared.”
“I bet you are.” She squeezes my hand.
“Dad is going to be so disappointed in me. He may do his best to hide it, but I know he will be.”
“Oh, Annie.” She snuggles up to me, rolling deeper on her side. “He won’t be. That’s where you are very wrong, missy. If he finds out from someone other than you, he will be hurt.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better. He’s given me everything and sacrificed so much and I just ruined it all.”
“Annie, you’re a smart girl, but I’m going to be brutally honest here. You’re being dumb. Completely stupid. Just do the math. Your age and your dad’s. Life happens, it’s the way you handle it that matters. Pull your shit together.”
I groan, my tears beginning to dry up. My courage building with tiny pebbles creating a foundation that I’m going to eventually have to leap off. My phone dings over and over, alerting me to a few texts. I don’t even roll my head to look at it. Mom takes it upon herself, reaching over me to grab it from the pillow.
“Braxton texted.” She clutches the phone.
“Fuck him,” I spit.
“Language.”
“I’m not going to even apologize for it. He’s gone radio silent. He made up a damn excuse to not come home with me and hasn’t responded to or answered any texts or calls. He’s made his position crystal clear.”
I peer over, seeing Mom reading the texts. I don’t even care, but when her face reddens and lips twist, I know something is wrong.
“What did he say?” I ask, not wanting to know because I can guess what he’ll say.
“Honey, I’m going to block his ass and if you trust me you don’t need to know.”
“He asked me to get an abortion, right?”
“Oh no.” She fiercely punches at the phone with her finger.
“What is it?” I try to swipe the phone from her hands, but she’s on a mission. “Mom!”
“He’s a no-good cheating son of a bitch!” She pounds at the phone a few more times leaping from the bed. “I’m going to cut his nuts off and feed them to him.”
I wince at the last statement, then flinch when she throws the phone at the wall. It shatters into pieces on the floor.
“What the hell?” I round the end of the bed.
“That fuck boy is going to get a taste of his own medicine. I swear.”
“Mom!” I yell. “Don’t say those things again. My hell. It’s just wrong coming from your mouth.”
She collapses at the end of the bed, tears welling up in her eyes. I sit next to her, confused and putting all the puzzle pieces together at the same time.
“He sent the wrong text to the wrong person.” Her tears continue to roll down her face.
I stare at my broken phone on the floor, the same one I just had enough courage to turn back on, and back to my mom. I’m wondering when I got sucked into the Twilight Zone. Shouldn’t I be the one as upset as her? What in the hell is going on?
“It’s okay, Mom.” I rub her back.
“Bullshit.”
“Mom?” I asked confused.
She dries her tears the best she can and looks over to me. “You’ll understand one day when you have kids. When someone hurts them you’ll want to kill him. And right now I could beat the shit out of that…”
I laugh, cutting her off, not needing to hear her drop any more terms that shouldn’t be coming out of a mother’s mouth.
“I’m okay, Mom.” I lean my head on her shoulder. “I think I came to grips with it in the last few days. It is what it is.”
She looks at me, stunned with her jaw slackened. “Isn’t your heart breaking?”
This question gets me finally drilling down through the numbness to my vulnerable parts. I nod, choking down the sobs begging to escape. “I feel so dumb.”
The dam breaks loose. And it has nothing to do with him cheating on me. It’s the way he wrote me out of his life. That stings like a bitch. A real hardcore angry bitch.
“Baby.” She clutches me to her. “You’re not dumb. He’s dumb and a great big douchenozzle flaming asshole.”
This makes me chuckle.
“Honey.” The door bursts open and we both glance up to see Dad in the doorway. He tilts back his John Deere ball cap and scrubs a hand over his salt and pepper hair. He remains silent for a few beats before talking.
“Er—is everything okay?”
“Perfect.” Mom wipes her final tears away. “Just perfect. Our baby girl is home and I broke her cellphone.”
“Okay,” Dad draws out.
“Oh, and you’re buying her a new one in the morning.” Mom rambles on about the purchase of a new cell phone and everything they need to do for Corn Days tomorrow.
“Dad,” I interrupt her. “Close the door and come here.”
I pat the bed beside me. Once he settles on my opposite side, I lean on his shoulder like I’ve done so many times in my life. I take a moment to inhale everything about this moment. He doesn’t say a word giving me the time I need.
I grab his hand and just let it out. “I’m pregnant.”
Silence. And more silence. I’m pretty sure he quit breathing. I watch his free hand flex until his knuckles grow white.
“Dad,” I whisper. “Say something.”
He doesn’t. My heart that I thought couldn’t take anymore begins to shatter.
