Underestimated Part 52

Chapter 22.

I started coffee, went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth before calling Drew back. I know, I shouldn't have been calling either one of them, but I just couldn't help myself. I missed him. I walked out to the deck with my coffee and cellphone.

"Hey gorgeous," Drew answered.

"Hey," I smiled.

"So? What do you think?"

"You already know what I think. It's amazing. I can't wait to take off in it."

"I knew you would love it. When are you leaving?"

"I was going to wait until Friday, but I think I need to go now."

"I met your boyfriend last night," he stated.

"Yeah, I heard. I'm kind of stunned by that. I would have loved to have been a fly on the dash of that car."

"It's f.u.c.king dark in Maine. I mean spooky a.s.s dark. I was scared s.h.i.+tless. I was thankful to take the ride offer."

I laughed. I could just see Drew walking down my road looking over his shoulder for something to jump out at him.

"Where did you go?" I asked.

"To the airport. So let me guess. He came right to your house as soon as he dropped me off, didn't he?"

I ran my fingers through my long hair and looked up to the sun with closed eyes. Of course we were going to go there. I give the f.u.c.k up. "Yeah, he stopped by," I tried.

"Did he spend the night or just stop by?"

"Does it really matter? You told me that you were going to step out of the picture so that I could see if it was him that I wanted. How am I supposed to do that if I'm not around him?"

"So he did spend the night. You f.u.c.ked him too, didn't you?"

"Really Drew?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I won't bother you anymore. You drive safe, okay."

"Drew," was all that I was able to get out before I heard the silence and looked to see his name blinking on my phone.

f.u.c.k...

I wasn't going to have to worry about choosing.

They were both p.i.s.sed off now. Fine, I was better off. I could go anywhere I wanted to go. I wouldn't live in Misty Bay or Vegas. They could both go to h.e.l.l.

I went straight to my room, packed a bag, and got into my new car and headed south. I stopped at the coffee shop, had a cup of coffee and a pastry with Starlight before heading out.

"I wish there was something that I could do to help. I hate it that you are going through this, Ry," Star said, sympathetically.

"I'll be fine, Star. I have had a life that tends to make you pretty strong. I'll get through it, one way or another."

Star hugged me and told me that if I needed anything to call.

I put in the address for Rodanthe, North Carolina. I didn't even groan when the robotic voice told me that I would be driving for almost fifteen hours. I was actually looking forward to it. I hoped that neither Drew nor Dawson called. I listened to Lauren and Levi on my satellite radio all the way until they signed off, and then changed it to an oldies rock station. It brought back memories of living in West Virginia.

I thought about my cousins that I hadn't seen in years, my dad, who wasn't my dad after all, and my grandma who pa.s.sed away when I was only sixteen. I thought about my friends from school, which was really only Julie Waybright. She was as poor as me, and was just as much of an outcast as I was. She got herself pregnant when she was fifteen and had two kids living on welfare by the time she was eighteen. I wondered how she was, and hoped that she wasn't another statistic, popping out kids and living with an alcoholic.

For some stupid reason, I reprogrammed my GPS and headed right to my old hometown. I wasn't sure why.

It was going to add eight hours to my destination, but what the h.e.l.l. I had time. I wouldn't stay. I just wanted to drive through, just for old times' sake, not that the old times were pleasant but still.

I stopped and got a hotel in New York around nine at night, taking a pizza with me. I know I said that I hoped that Drew or Dawson didn't call, but I was surprised that either of them hadn't. Weren't they worried about me or wondered where I was? Of course, they both did think that I wasn't leaving until the next day. I still couldn't believe that one of them hadn't called. They didn't, and when I checked my phone at seven the next morning, there was nothing from either of them. I know, I know, that's what I wanted. Whatever.

It only took me four hours to make it to my old roots. Not a lot had changed. It looked as poor and rundown as it had the day I was forced to leave. It almost made me happy that Drew had bought me. I bought me. I laughed, saying that out loud. I turned down the old dirt road to the trailer. It was abandoned. The aluminum had been ripped off, probably for sc.r.a.p, and the windows were all broken out. I'm not sure why, but I parked my expensive car in the drive. I looked around, nervously.

This wasn't the place for a female in a fancy car to be poking around. The closest house was barely visible from our old trailer. I didn't see anything that warned me not to go in, so I got out, locked the door with the two beeps, and walked up the old steps.

"f.u.c.k," I called out when my foot went through the rotten plywood on the little porch. It hurt. I felt the burn up my calf from the wood sc.r.a.pe. Of course my shoe had to fall underneath when I tried to pull it out of the hole. That should have been enough of a warning to get back in my car and get the h.e.l.l out of there, but determined me had to go in. Once I retrieved my shoe, I walked along the edge of the porch so that I didn't fall through again.

I pushed the door. It was hard to push because it was weathered and warped. It looked like some local kids had been using it for a party pad, but not recently, I didn't think. There were ashtrays running over, beer bottles, liquor bottles, decomposed food, and empty packs of condoms strung about.

The same table, couch, and wood stove were still there from when had I lived there. I walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinets. Our mismatched dishes were still in the cupboards. It was like my dad had just left and left everything behind. I wondered where he was. Did he die? Did he move? I walked back to mine and Justin's bedroom, and it too still had the same old mattress thrown on the floor. My old dresser that wasn't much of a dresser when I used it was still in the corner. I got excited when I saw it.

A couple of days before I was to leave with Drew Kelly, I placed a square tin in the back, underneath the bottom drawer. It was one of those tins that you get cookies in at Christmas. I think the local church had dropped it off for my brother and me one year. I slid the dresser out and screamed to the top of my lungs. A hiding cat jumped out with a squeal and darted right under my legs out the door.

Jesus H Christ...

My heart was now beating out of my chest. I swear it was. I held my hand on the corner of the nasty old dresser and held my chest, trying to regain my bearings.

What the h.e.l.l was I doing there? I pulled the thin sheet of wood from behind the dresser and there it was, just where I had left it. I picked it up and beat it on top of the dresser to knock the mice s.h.i.+t off of it.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

"Awwww," I let out a blood curdling scream.

There went my heart again. I turned to see a big burly man with a beard clear down his chest. His head was wrapped in a rebel flag do-wrap, and I could tell that he had long hair in a ponytail hanging down his back. His arms were covered in raunchy girl tattoos that were clearly unprofessional.

" Bobby?" I asked.

"Morgan?" my first cousin, Bobby said, and then grabbed me up into a big bear hug.

"Where the h.e.l.l you been chica?" he asked, grinning his missing teeth smile.

"Oh, around," I replied. "How the h.e.l.l are you?

You grew up," I stated. Bobbie must have been about fifteen when I had left. He was a scrawny little, pimpled face kid the last time that I had seen him.

"Is that your fancy a.s.s car out there?"

"No. I just borrowed it for a few days. I drive a 1993 piece of s.h.i.+t." It wasn't a complete lie, and with my cut off jean shorts and my ace of spades t-s.h.i.+rt, I thought that I could pull it off.

"It's sweet as h.e.l.l," he exclaimed. "How long you in town for?"

"Just pa.s.sing through, I'm not sure why I even came here to tell you the truth."

"Well, I'm glad you did," he smiled.

I talked to my cousin who really was no relation at all now that I knew that my dad wasn't my dad, but I wasn't about to tell him that. I hadn't been around him in years. I didn't trust him at all. We walked around the trailer poking around. There wasn't really anything there that I wanted. It was all pretty much trash. I did find a couple of pictures that had seen their better day. I took them and placed them on top of my tin box. I didn't open the box yet. I decided to wait until I was alone for that. I really couldn't even remember what was in it.

"Do you know where my dad is Bobby?" I asked, plundering through a drawer in my parent's room. There was nothing there, some old bills, a penknife, and a container of KY.

"He lives in town now, over top of the Laundromat. He married Connie Patterson, you remember her?"

"Yeah, she worked with my mom," I replied. I knew exactly who she was. She was the truck stop wh.o.r.e.

She'd broken the record for the most times being in the bunk of a semi-truck.

"Where's your mama?"

"She lives in North Carolina now. I don't talk to her much anymore." That wasn't a complete lie either.

Okay, I was a liar.

"You gonna go see your pop?" Bobbie asked.

f.u.c.k no...b.a.s.t.a.r.d sold me.

"Nah, we didn't really split on good terms," I smiled.

Bobby walked me out to my car, carrying my treasures.

"You sure you don't want stay the night. We'll probably end up over at Booner's later on."

I had no clue who Booner even was, and there was no way in h.e.l.l I was staying there.

"I'm meeting a friend. I can't, but thanks for the offer. It was good seeing you."

Please don't hug me.

"You come back and see me now, hear?" Bobby said with a big brawny hug.

"I will. You take care."

I had decided before I backed out of my old drive that I wouldn't go all the way that day. I didn't think I would go far at all. I felt dirty, and was kind of grossed out from walking around my abandoned, childhood home.

My head itched, too. I knew I was just being paranoid, but I wanted a shower. I was hungry and wasn't about to touch food until I had one.

I drove for eight hours. Not what I had planned on doing at all. I was so hungry I almost perished. I drove all the way to Point Harbor. All I needed to do was take the ferry to I-165, and I would be at my mother's. I got a room at a rather expensive hotel. There was no reason for it to be that expensive, except for the fact that it was a tourist trap. I knew I didn't need to be concerned with a hundred and seventy five dollars. I could drop that all day long and never put a dent in how much money I had. That part would probably never change. When you grow up on dented cans of donated baked beans, you tend to ration a little.

I used lots of antibacterial soap and washed the nastiness away from the tin. I smiled remembering the scene on the top and around the sides. I had sat on the couch with Justin when he was probably three or so. We were alone and trying to stay warm. We sat on the couch and ate the stale cookies as we observed the Norman Rockwell painting.

"And we'll live in this house, and play in the barn, and walk along the dirt road by the stream."

"And go pishen in dat pond," Justin explained, pointing his little finger to the painted pond.

I smiled running my fingers over the scene, the scene that his little fingers had touched. I could hear his little voice as plain as day. G.o.d, I missed that little man. I still hadn't opened the tin, and decided to shower and find some food before I really did perish.

I walked along the sidewalks and tourist trap vendors. I laughed when I saw the abundant amount of jewelry hanging from hooks from one of the street vendors. It was necklaces, bracelets, key chains, you name it, and anything that could be hung from a chain, this guy had it.

"Would you like a cheap piece of history," the guy asked.

"History?" I smirked.

"The finest sea gla.s.s around," he smiled.

I couldn't help myself. I had to do it. "Buddy, there is not one thing here that is real sea gla.s.s."

His expression changed. He knew that I knew my s.h.i.+t. "Well, it was found on the beach," he a.s.sured me.

"Yeah, from a spring break party maybe," I replied, and kept walking. I heard him ask the next nave lady the same question. I looked over my shoulder and smiled, shaking my head when the lady pulled out her wallet.

Stupid lady.

I had the best shrimp and lobster I had ever had in my life, sitting at a quay restaurant. I loved the ocean. I decided at that moment, wherever I ended up, it was going to be by the ocean. The ocean and I had become friends.

We had an understanding, a bond that in some way counseled me. The sea was full of emotion. The ocean knew my moods. It could hate, love, it knew my dreams, my fears, my happiness. I told the ocean more secrets than I had ever told anyone in my life, without a word spoken, and it understood.

It was still pretty early, and I wasn't tired at all. I should have been after the long drive and the roller coaster ride from going back to my old roots, maybe I was tired and had too much on my mind to relax. I still hadn't opened my time capsule. I wasn't sure what I was waiting on. I knew there wasn't anything worth a d.a.m.n in it. I still couldn't believe that neither one of my men had called to check on me. I hadn't talked to either one of them in two days.

I had to pry the tin lid off because it was so rusted around the edges. I broke a nail in the process. That p.i.s.sed me off.

Mother f.u.c.ker...

The first thing I saw brought a happy smile to my face. It was a faded green Christmas tree, cut from construction paper. Justin made it in kindergarten. It didn't say, I love mommy, or I love daddy. It said I love my sissy. I held my finger through the red piece of yarn. I then took out the love letter from Polecat. That wasn't his real name. His real name was Billy Sweeny. It seemed like everyone in the hills had a stupid nick name. It was dumb.

I used to think that I was in love with Polecat. He was a tough guy, always in fights and drinking beer. He had gotten his first amateur tattoo when he was only thirteen.

I read about two lines of the childish love note and tossed it to the paper can. A week after he had written it, he broke up with me to go out with Missy Gla.s.s. She put out. I didn't. I picked up the picture of my Grandma Joyce next. She was sitting on her porch, where I picture her, the most. She always sat on that porch, rocking for hours.

I picked up the tarnished, cross necklace next. It had been a gift from my grandma. I think it was for my birthday or maybe Christmas. I was sure that it came from Avon. I used sit on her porch and circle all the things that I wanted from the little catalogue. I had three tarnished rings, as well. I remember thinking how rich I felt when I had worn my little pink diamond to school, showing it off to my other poor friends. I kept the Christmas tree, the cheap jewelry, the two dollar bill, the picture of my grandma, and the newspaper obituary from Grandma Joyce. The rest I left in the tin and tossed it to the paper can.

I lay in bed, thinking about reconnecting with my mother. I should have kept my mind on that. I thought about how I would feel when I saw her. I was angry, and carried a lot of bitterness, not that I wasn't grateful for getting away from that h.e.l.l hole. She sold me, just like my dad had. She let the almighty dollar come before her own flesh and blood. How could she just go off and start another family when she left us behind. Why didn't she take us with her? I already knew the answer to that. Randal Callaway was going to make sure that she disappeared.

Money does talk, no matter who it hurts.