Trailer Park Heart
Page 27

 Rachel Higginson

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Besides, I had always been a loner. There were plenty of nights, Coco and Emilia couldn’t account for my whereabouts. I just embellished the truth enough to make it ambiguously shady.
They knew I hadn’t had that many partners, but my inability to confess Max’s father, made it clear I’d had enough to cast doubt on who it could be. And they had supported my decision not to pursue knowledge about the subject. It made sense to them that I would want to do this solo, that I didn’t want to know the father.
And by the time the truth had finally come out about my unplanned pregnancy, they’d both left for fall semester, so they couldn’t exactly cross reference any of my bullet points.
And my mom? She hadn’t cared enough to press the issue. I knew she knew I knew. But she never asked questions. She never pushed. She just… did her thing and let me do mine.
So, it would be easy to understand why I thought Levi would do the same as everyone else—assume I had made a series of poor decisions that led to a forever kind of consequence. He was supposed to believe my reputation over the truth, just like everyone else. He was supposed to think the worst of me and let the matter drop.
Instead, he took a step forward, pointed a finger at me and snarled, “Bullshit.”
For the second time in minutes, I asked a stunned, “Excuse me?”
“That’s bullshit, Ruby. You know exactly who the father is.”
I held his gaze, too afraid to look away and let him see how quickly he’d gotten to me. Breathing through real panic, I snapped, “Get out of my way, Levi.”
He didn’t. “Why are you playing this game? Who are you protecting?”
“Stop.”
“What do you have to lose?”
“Stop, Levi.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but you’re only going to end up hurting Max—”
I couldn’t take another second of this. I couldn’t listen to him accuse me and say my son’s name and…. and…. See straight through me. I dropped the box of Hamburger Helper and slammed my hands on his chest to get his attention, fire blazing in my eyes, a storm ten times stronger than the one outside building inside my chest. “I said stop!”
He finally blinked, the furious expression on his face melting into something no less dangerous. His hand landed on mine, covering both with the breadth of one of his. “Ruby,” he whispered.
But I was too mad for sympathy now. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hissed at him, pushing him away from me. He pressed my hands against his chest with his and my entire body moved with him. I could feel how hard his heart beat beneath my palm, echoing the same frantic rhythm of my own. “I told you I don’t know. That needs to be enough for you.” I pushed him again. He pulled me to him again and this time when his feet got their footing, I was standing so close to him I had to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. “This is none of your business.”
We stood there, like that, my chest bumping into his torso with every labored breath I dragged in and pushed out. His warm hand stayed firm over both of mine, locking them against his body. Our eyes in a war of wills, challenging, daring, accusing.
He broke away first, dropping his head to press his mouth against my ear. “You can fool them,” he rasped, his breath as broken and ragged as mine. “They all see what you want them to see. They let you get away with whatever you want. They don’t know any better. But you can’t hide from me, Ruby. I see you.”
My world tipped, spinning off its axis and throwing everything inside me off balance. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move.
How? How did he do this? How did he walk back into town and within days completely tear apart my carefully crafted existence?
It had been seven years. He was supposed to have moved on with his life and forgotten about me. He was supposed to have found somebody else and become a different person. He wasn’t supposed to notice me anymore. Or care about me. He definitely wasn’t supposed to see me.
Not like this—not at my most vulnerable.
Finally, I gathered my wits and stepped away from him, ripping my hands from his grasp. I wanted to say something snotty, to get the final word in and declare another victory. But I couldn’t form coherent thoughts, let alone say something zingy.
Instead, I picked up the box I’d thrown to the floor and pushed past the mountain of a man in front of me and marched with my supper to the counter. Sensing my rage, Maria didn’t ask any questions besides the necessary. I paid, forgot my umbrella and fled the Pump and Pantry like the hounds of hell were chasing me.
Later that night, after Max finished his homework and we’d had supper and a special bowl of ice cream I thought Max and I both needed, I let him curl up in bed with me while rain pelted the outside of the trailer and the chilling wind pushed through the poorly sealed windows of our small home. We read books and talked about school and friends and a hundred innocent things. And when he fell asleep in my arms, I curled up next to him and held him there.
For almost seven years I’d had this life with him. And while it wasn’t perfect or necessarily ideal, it was ours. He was mine. And I worked hard to give him everything he needed.
Nobody had ever questioned me or my story. Nobody had bothered asking penetrating questions with answers I wasn’t prepared to give.
Nobody until Levi Cole.
And I’d be damned if I let another Cole boy mess up my life again.
10
Peace in the Middle of Western Nebraska
By Saturday afternoon, I was exhausted. It had been a chaotic week. I’d never really gotten a handle on life. Every morning I’d felt rushed to get to work on time. Last night, I’d worked late since the post-football game rush was busy and then I’d been back at it this morning.
Since the Huskers played this evening, the morning had been slammed with folks grabbing breakfast from as far as three towns away. I just wanted to curl up on the couch and take a nap.
“I’ll be back late,” my mom hollered as she pushed through the door, making as much noise as possible.
I put my feet up on the small love seat that fit in our living room space and kicked my shoes off. I’d put them away later. Dropping my head back on the familiar pillows that had decorated the worn fabric ever since I could remember, I stared up at the ceiling fan spinning in lazy circles.
My mom’s holler of disapproval through the open windows pulled a head turn out of me, but unless she was currently being murdered, I wasn’t planning on getting up to help her.
And even then, the best she could probably hope for was a call to emergency services. I was down for the count.
“Max,” I murmured. “Go see if your Grammy needs help.”
He had just sat down with some LEGOS I’d found at Goodwill last Christmas, but he jumped up right away.
“Oh, for god’s sake,” I heard my mom grumble.
Max, pushed through the door as loudly as my mom had. “Grams, are you okay?”
“The fucking grasshoppers.”
“Grammy!” Max scolded.
I glared at the window, disappointed in my mom’s inability to keep from cussing around my son. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “Get back in the house so I don’t run you over.”
I turned my attention back to the ceiling fan. I loved Maxine Dawson. Truly. I’d only been given one mother in this life and I was bound and determined to treasure her. But did she have to make it so difficult?