Sweet Trouble (8 page)

Bailey

With my job I never really know where I’m going to end up. Leandro is pretty remote. It’s a poor, forgotten little town that has a tiny, thirty-five bed hospital. When the river overflowed its banks and swallowed a neighborhood the hospital was over-whelmed with injured people.

The time with Nick helped my energy a bit, but after two weeks of working back-to-back twelve-hour shifts, I’m still exhausted. Sydney and I share a motel room and our days involve going to the hospital, picking up dinner and falling into bed after we’ve finished eating. The alarm goes off at four-thirty. We pull ourselves out of bed and do it all over again.

The town has about twelve-hundred people. The residents are kind and they make a genuine effort to take care of the aid workers. Today the Director of Nursing announced that they’d brought in dinner for all the hospital staff. I wait for Sydney so we can go eat together.

A text comes in from Nick.
Done w wrk. Going home. Miss u.

My heart thrills. He texts me every day at least once or twice. I always text him back as soon as I get a chance. The storms were destructive. While I’m mending people, he’s mending houses. He’s putting in long days, too. Neither of us say anything about what happens when I’m done here, but each text makes me think we might have something. I miss him every moment of the day.

Sydney hurries down the corridor and we head to the breakroom. Unfortunately, we’re a little late and there’s not much left. Everyone just came, grabbed a plate and went back to work, probably planning on eating in between duties.

There’s only one person sitting there and it’s another nurse. Olivia. I draw a sharp breath. Sydney doesn’t know anything about Nick and I don’t feel like explaining. Olivia’s eyes widen when she sees me.

I heard more staff were coming but it hadn’t dawned on me I might run into Nick’s sister out here in Leandro.

We exchange a polite greeting and I can see she expects me to say something more but I don’t. I have no idea if Nick told her anything about me. I wonder. If he told his family about me, it would tell me a lot about his feelings.

“Carbs, carbs, and more carbs,” Sydney complains as she eyes the sandwiches and potato chips.

“When they said dinner, I was hoping for Italian food,” Olivia says.

We get our plates and sit down together and eat. A beauty pageant plays on television. The glitz and glamour is a far cry from the quiet desperation of this flood ravaged town. All three of us watch, too tired for much else.

When they break for a commercial, Sydney gets up to snag a piece of cake from the dessert table. She returns to the table strutting and preening, her tiny piece of cake wobbling on the paper plate.

“And in the evening gown segment we have lovely Sydney Hatfield, wearing designer scrubs.”

Olivia laughs. She’s pretty, maybe forty or so, brunette with a little grey. She wears a wedding ring and I wish I could ask her about herself, and about Nick too, but I don’t. Something holds me back. I don’t know what. Clearly, Nick hasn’t told her anything about me. That stings.

Sydney’s about to take a bite of her cake when they page her.

“Damn, wouldn’t you know.”

“Want me to bring it to you?” I offer.

She sticks her tongue out at me. “Nice try. You think I’d trust you with my cake? I watched you hoover up half a package of chocolate cookies last night. And
four
cream-filled doughnuts this morning. I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

It’s true. I don’t usually eat like that. Thanks a ton, Sydney. Make me sound like a pig why don’t you. I blush and steal a glance at Olivia, but she just smiles.

After Sydney stalks out, taking her cake with her, Olivia takes the remote and mutes the television. Maybe now she’ll say something about Nick. Maybe he told her about us and he’s lost without me. Thinks I’m the best thing since sliced bread. Something. Anything. I don’t know but I wait, barely breathing in hopes she might give me some clues. I miss him. Every time I think about him it’s like a punch to my stomach.

I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen him. It feels like two years.

“I wanted to talk about my brother,” Olivia says.

Instead of looking happy about the subject, she looks distressed and now I’m not sure I want to know where this is going.

“Okay.”

“There was some bad blood between me and your uncle. I don’t want to say too much, because it happened years ago.”

My breath freezes solid deep inside my lungs.

“Nick went after him. Beat him. Badly. Not only that, but he beat him in front of others, telling him he’d kill him and his family.”

The door opens and an orderly comes in, grins at us and makes off with a plate of cookies. The door closes behind him. My stomach is tightening and a thread of fear slithers along my spine. I just stare at her.

“Nick went to prison for attempted murder. While he was there, David’s two sons died and after that David committed suicide.”

I hear her words but they sound far away as if she’s in a tunnel. A drop of sweat rolls down my spine. Nick, my Nick, went to prison. My mind reels.

“Nick was bent on revenge. He still can’t talk about it. I think he regrets David and his boys are dead, because he wanted nothing more than to… well, I don’t want to say what he wanted to do.”

I remember the way he looked at me the first time we met. Like he hated me. I felt it. I thought he was crazy. At first. Then he came after the guy in the dance hall, and I thought maybe I’d misunderstood. All that time he’d been looking at me and thinking about my family. Men I’d never even met.

“I know this must be hard for you to hear,” Olivia says gently.

“Yes,” I whisper. I don’t know that anyone’s ever hated me before. Not that I knew. Here I was missing him and I never knew any of this story. Not once did he say a word. Instead of telling me about his past he took me to bed.

I gave him my
virginity.
I wonder if he thought that was the best joke. Or maybe he thought it was payment. He was so gentle. Maybe he’d moved past what had happened. I feel stupid. So stupid. But I have to admit I wanted him and I’d never wanted anyone before.

“He’s a good man. He defended me and paid for it by going to prison. Your uncle left a note when he died. He admitted to hurting me… and other girls. He even killed one girl. The judge ordered Nick’s case to be re-opened. Three months later Nick was released.”

Nodding, I set my hands on the table to push myself up because I just want to get to my feet, get away from her ugly words and the ugly pictures in my head.

Olivia sets her hand on mine. “Nick wouldn’t ever hurt a woman, but it might be a good idea if you stay away from him while you’re in Fulton.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “Thanks.”

I struggle to my feet and I sway a little. The world feels a little unsteady and I grab the chair behind me for support. Black spots fill my vision.

“Are you okay, hon?”

The spots spin and my stomach clenches, the contents rumbling. Bile burns my throat. My legs feel like rubber, like they won’t obey me.

“Bailey?”

My name on her lips is the last thing I hear as the floor rushes up to meet me.

Nick

I grit my teeth, listening to the woman’s voice as she tells me why I’m wrong. So wrong. Are all pregnant women this difficult? Lanie has worked for me since she graduated high school. She’s a pistol. Also she’s my cousin. Both she and her mother work in the HR department of my Fulton company. They do the work of four women and I’m lucky to have them, but ever since Lanie found out she was expecting she’s been hell on wheels.

“If we have a little daycare here in the office you’ll increase worker satisfaction,” she tells me.

I can picture her storming around her office filing or organizing while she gives me grief.

“I don’t want a bunch of babies in the office. I don’t want to hear them. Or see them. Or even think about them.”

I’m sitting in my Gran’s driveway getting an earful while Olivia peeks out the front door for the third time. All I want to do is go inside and talk to her about what’s going on in Leandro. I just found out she was there for a couple of days to help with a couple of high-risk deliveries. I need to know if she saw Bailey. I don’t know if something’s the matter with her phone or what, but Bailey hasn’t answered my texts in almost a week. It’s been three weeks since we said goodbye. Her silence is making me lose my mind.

“Not to mention fewer ear infections,” Lanie drones on.

“Aw, you’ve been grumpy ever since you found out you had a bun in the oven, girl. You shoulda listened to me. Don’t rush into starting a family. Have some fun. Kids are nothing but trouble. Short people who don’t pay rent.”

Her response comes rapid fire an octave higher. No way am I escaping this unscathed. “Fine, Lanie. Find out what we’d need to do to have child-care at the company.”

Then she starts crying and telling me what a wonderful human being I am. Poor thing. She’s a bundle of hormones. Maybe after she pops this kid out she’ll get a hold of herself. Maybe.

I slam the door to the truck and walk up to Gran’s house and think about how to talk to Olivia. I can’t come straight out and ask about Bailey because that’ll just start a line of questioning that doesn’t interest me. If Gran catches the scent, I’m toast. She’s better at sniffing out emotions than a bloodhound tracking a scent. The two of them will gang up on me and I’ll never hear the end of it.

I open the screen door and push the front door open. The scent of freshly baked bread hits me first. I walk down the long hallway. The floorboards creak beneath my feet. Familiar sounds. By the time I was six, I knew where all the creaks were, and I could sneak into the kitchen without Gran hearing me. I pass the pictures of me and Olivia throughout the years and head into the kitchen.

“There’s my boy,” Gran says, leaving the stove to kiss me and hug me. For an old girl she’s still plenty strong. It’s the work, she likes to say, when folks tell her how well she’s getting on. Hard work, every day and a little prayer doesn’t hurt either.

Olivia’s tossing a salad and I hug her next.

“You still have that nasty beard. You look scary. You know that?”

I go to the fridge and grab a beer. “I’m so busy right now I don’t know if I’m coming or going. Haven’t taken the time to shave. Anyway, I like looking scary.”

Olivia shakes her head and puts the salad on the table. It’s set for three which tells me Olivia’s husband, a long-distance truck driver, must be on the road.

“I think you look handsome as ever,” Gran says.

Olivia shakes her head.

“Thanks Gran. You know, this look has its benefits. My receptionist, Bernice, was getting the run around from her landlord. Said he took an extra two-hundred dollars through an automatic draft. Then he says it’s the bank’s mistake and she should talk to them. I paid him a visit and he peeled off two c-notes without being asked twice.”

Olivia makes a face at me, but Gran cheers. “Good for you, Nick. I saw Bernice in the store and she told me all about that son of a rascal.”

My grandmother never has a bad word to say about either Olivia or me.

Edith Marie Hoffmann is my mom’s mom and she raised both of us. My dad smacked my mother around and Olivia too. When Gran found out, she told him he could leave town or she’d take the pistol she stowed under her mattress and shoot his private parts to kingdom come.

Robert McKinley was a mean son of a bitch but even he was afraid of Gran. He left and a year later was killed in a bar fight. My mom died a few years later from pneumonia. Since I was about five, it was just the three of us. Me, Olivia and Gran.

Olivia married, but no children, thanks to David Voss. She’s happy though. She says delivering babies is what she was meant to do. Bringing them into the world is the next best thing to having your own.

She goes to the fridge and takes out a bottle of Gran’s dressing and sets it on the table beside a bowl of creamed chard and mashed potatoes.

“What have you been up to, Olivia?”

I hope my question sounds casual.

“Your sister helped deliver five babies down in Leandro. Three of them from families without homes. Their houses got washed away in the flood. Bless their hearts. Can you imagine having a baby and nowhere to go?”

“That’s terrible, Gran.”

“It was crazy. That’s for sure. They were running out of beds and it was hard to get in and out of Leandro. The two main roads are washed out and you can only get there if you take this bumpy, awful gravel road.”

“Did you see anyone you knew?” I ask.

Gran snorts and sets pieces of stewed chicken on a platter. “In Leandro. Who would she know in that little town?”

Olivia goes to the fridge and gets a beer. “I did actually.”

“Oh?”

“I saw David Voss’ niece there.”

Gran jerks like she just touched a live wire and she spins to face Olivia. “David Voss?”

Olivia shrugs a shoulder. “She’s part of a group of nurses that travel to underserved or understaffed areas. It’s something she’s doing to help pay down her school debt.”

Debt? I didn’t know she had debt. The notion bothers me and I wonder what kind of debt we’re talking about. How could I convince her to let me pay it off? Shit, she’s stubborn. I grip the bottle a little harder than necessary imagining getting my hands on her when she’s done with this assignment.

“She’s a nice person, Nick,” Olivia says. “It’s possible she’ll come back to Fulton. Please don’t give her a bad time.”

Suppressing a growl, I take a swig of my beer. “I won’t.”

“I told her about the bad blood between our families.”

I try not to show any reaction. Of course, Olivia did that. She probably tried to explain why I was so angry in the ER that day. Now I know why Bailey’s not talking to me. When I see her again I’m going to have to lay my cards on the table. All of them. If she’ll agree to see me that is.

“What did she say about that,” I ask. My heart pounds in my chest and I’m watching Olivia’s face for any gesture or clue as to how Bailey responded. I want her to wave it off and tell me Bailey didn’t care I threatened to kill off her family. Like that was no big deal. At all.

“She didn’t say anything, really,” Olivia said. “She just got real quiet.”

I’m fucked. I’ll just bet she’s running as fast as she can to get away from that shit. Too bad. I’ll find her. I’ll find her no matter what.

“She’s already got enough trouble,” Olivia says softly.

“Does she?” I say, wondering what the hell she means by ‘trouble’.

Olivia sips her beer. “I shouldn’t talk about other people’s business.”

“Why not?” Gran asks.

“It’s a confidentiality issue. That’s why.”

I force myself to remain where I am instead of grabbing my sister and shaking her by the shoulders.

We all stand in the center of the kitchen while the dinner sits forgotten on the table.

“Oh hell.” Gran waves a dismissive hand. “Who are we going to talk to this about? Nobody in Fulton knows this girl.”

I grip my beer and try to push away the crazy shit that goes through my head. Bailey hurt. Bailey sick. Bailey needing me. All of it makes me wild with a furious fear that shreds me, rips me apart.

“It started when she fainted one night. At first everyone just figured it was because she was overworked. I’d just gotten there but a lot of those nurses hadn’t had a day off in days and days. All of them were walking around half-asleep. Next day she was back at work, looking a lot better. Everyone told her she needed to ask for a day off but she wouldn’t.”

Gran clicks her tongue. “Bless her heart.”

“A few days later she’s talking to one of my patients about blood pressure history and she runs to the bathroom and throws up.”

Every word Olivia says grips me like a vice and it’s like I see Bailey every step of the way. Every small detail paints a moment in my mind and a slow chill crawls over my skin. I know. I know how this story ends.

“All I can think is the girl’s pregnant,” Olivia says.

“Dear Lord,” Gran says. “Right in the middle of that disaster?”

“The next day I hear her tell her girlfriend that her mom told her not to call with her problems.”

Neither Gran nor I say a word. My mouth is dry sandpaper. I couldn’t speak if I tried.

Olivia shakes her head. “It always gets me. These young girls getting themselves in trouble when I would have given anything for a baby. I even heard her tell her friend that if the father knew, he wouldn’t want it either.”

“That son of a bitch,” Gran murmurs.

The bottle slips from my hand and hits the floor like a cinder block. Beer shoots out across the kitchen and I should grab it, but I can’t move. I just stand there and watch the mess I made spread across the faded linoleum.