Welcome back y'all! I've been seriously sick. You know I rarely miss a chapter unless it's serious, so thanks to you who sent me prayers and get wells in my FB group. I have good news, though: Tomorrow you get TWO chapters, one in the morning and one in the evening. We'll be all done with this crazy journey. Thanks for being patient and I truly missed you.
Cherry and Mia- You two are my rainbow-chasin'-I-see-you loves.
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Contradictions & Congratulations
"You're back."
"Don't go. Please. I can't handle you being gone," I beg without breathing. My plea is answered with kisses full of mercy, but his legs keep walking.
"I have to, Cotton. Camp is only a week."
A week of hell. I'll have to endure empty days and lonely nights.
"I told you I would be." He stuffs his hands into his pockets, unsure if he should embrace me.
He tosses his bags into the back of his rusty Chevy, coughing when a cloud of dust rises back into his face. He's got the rest of himself thrown in there too. His football dreams and aspirations, hopes and goals … everything but me.
"D-Did … Did you miss me?" I have to know if that side of his life was worth more than mine. If he could handle it with ease, then what was the point of us being together?
"Kiss me," he orders.
I can't. Glancing away, I refuse to look him in the eyes. If I do, I'll break down. It's something neither of us are ready for.
"I said kiss me, Cotton." He's demanding, and his greed causes me to finally turn around. He grabs my face and there's nothing soft about it; it's to seize my attention and to hold me in place.
His lips mold around mine and I despise him. I despise him for doing this, for leaving me. He is a traitor of the worst kind. We've built our foundation on love and trust, but my heart is a nation in ruins. For his crime, I punish him to a lifetime of regret.
"Miss isn't a word I know, Cottonseed." I hate it when he treats me like this—like a child who has no understanding of the world.
"Then you didn't," I reply flatly.
I fall on my knees as his truck peels away.
Rowdy removes his hands from his pockets. "I can't miss what was never gone."
He takes my hand, feeling the pulsating heartbeat along the curve of my skin. He places it over his chest. "You were here. You were always here, baby."
He rebuilds crumbled walls, restores the shattered pieces he left behind.
"What did I tell you about doubting me, huh?" His harsh tone is a contradiction to his easy, light touches.
I swallow, the lump in my throat filled with guilt. "I never-"
My lie falls on both of our ears, empty and as meaningless as my life before him.
Both of his strong hands clutch handfuls of my hair as he pulls me close. "You did. It's written all over you."
For a boy who can't read words he knows how to read me. He studies my face and deciphers expressions I can't even recognize.
"I'm sorry." I'm apologetic for being selfish, for worrying when he's never given me a reason to.
"Don't say that," he breathes.
Rowdy picks me up and his hands grab the flesh underneath my dress. My arms wrap around him and I know my excuses are worthless.
"Never tell me you're sorry." Rowdy holds me tightly and I find myself melting into him.
"Then what do I say?" I ask quietly.
"Nothing, Cottonseed." My heart pounds, pounds, pounds as he presses his forehead against mine. "Let me inside of you and I'll show you what real forgiveness feels like."
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.
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"Are you gonna be gone forever?"
I glance over at Jessie, who's sitting on a pile of clothes as I stuff my belongings into a cardboard box. She knows the wedding is tomorrow, but I don't think she quite understands that it involves me moving out.
I move a plastic hanger out of the way and sit on the bed beside her. "Not forever, Jessie. I'm only moving across town. It's less than 10 minutes away. You can visit me anytime you want."
"10 minutes?" Jessie frowns, and it's as if I told her there'd be an entire continent between us. "Can I walk there?"
I sigh, pulling her onto my lap. She's wearing rain boots that look like mine and they squeak against one another. "I don't think you can walk there. But I bet Ma will drive you if you ask. Or Rowdy can come pick you up. But the point is, we aren't going to be far away. I'll still be your sister. Only now, you'll have a brother-in-law!"
"A brother?" Jessie grins and bounces on my legs. "A real brother? You mean, I can hide his toys like you and AJ do to me?"
I giggle. Rowdy doesn't exactly have toys, but I'm not going to be the one to tell her that. "Yeah, sure."
"Thanks, Cotton!" She squeezes me tightly and jumps down, twirling in circles. "I promise, you'll see me so much, it'll be like you never left!"
"That's what I'm afraid of," I mutter as she scurries out of the room. She bumps into Rowdy on her way through the door and grabs his leg, hugging him.
"I'm so happy you're my brother-in-slaw, Rowdy! When I come over and see you, I'm bringing chili!" She runs away, screaming to Ma that she needs a big ol' pot to cook in.
I laugh as Rowdy enters, prepared to take a few more boxes down to his truck. He gestures back towards the hallway. "I reckon you explained to her how this is going to work?"
I roll my eyes at my little sister's behavior. "Sort of. I think she may have mixed up a few things."
"I bet." Rowdy grins and takes my hands. I stand up in front of him, admiring his white tee and denim jeans. "It's your last day as a single woman, Cotton Swan. Are you ready to give all this up?"
He nods to his right, at AJ and Jessie's unmade beds. Their toys are scattered everywhere and Jessie has a bag of potatoes hidden underneath her blankets.
"For you, yes." I lean forward on my tip-toes and give him a kiss. I'll miss my sisters and my parents and this house, but it's all worth it. Rowdy is who I want to spend my life with and if that means starting a little earlier than most, then so be it.
It just means I get my happily-ever-after much quicker than I anticipated.
Rowdy puckers his lips for another kiss, but I swat him on the chest. "No make-out time, mister. I've got to help Ma and Esme with cooking and you've got to take all these boxes to the new house."
Rowdy groans, but bends over and picks up two boxes filled with clothes. "Fine. But I don't see why we're having a rehearsal dinner. Ain't folks going to be eatin' a big meal tomorrow?"
"It's not a rehearsal dinner," I say firmly. "Just supper. I'm not going to practice getting married. That's the stupidest thing I ever heard of."
That's exactly what I told everyone else. There wasn't any point trying to rehearse for my wedding day. It was a ridiculous thought and even though Ma and Esme fought me tooth and nail, I eventually won. The only time I want to see Rowdy standing at the front of the church is tomorrow, when I'm dressed in white.
"Okay, okay!" Rowdy retreats as if he's entered a warzone he wants no part of. "The truck is full so I'll be back for the rest."
"The rest?" I sigh as I realize the spare room down the hall still holds most of my clothes and shoes. We haven't even gotten half of it yet.
Rowdy notices my expression and gives me a crooked smile. "I'm starting to rethink this whole moving business. Why don't we just live here? I'm sure I can build an addition with all of the potatoes Jessie's hidden!"
I toss a rain boot in his direction and it misses him as he darts out of the way.
A house built out of spuds?
Silly boy.
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.
.
"Jasper! Put her down! That's too high!" Esme yells from the entrance of our kitchen, watching in fear as Jasper tosses Harley Gene in the air. She's bigger now, with wide green eyes and soft blonde ringlets that curl just past her little ears. She gurgle-giggles as her older brother swings her around in circles instead.
"Renee? Should I add raspberries or…?" She coats the crust of the pie with butter as Ma glances to the side, her face and hands covered in flour.
"Definitely raspberries," Ma approves, adding eggs to a cream-colored batter. "And more sugar. You know these folks around here eat sugar like they're teeth ain't rotten."
I hold my cup out to Rowdy and he pours me a glass of lemonade. Esme opens the canister on the counter and shakes her head. "We're all out, Renee."
"And I just used the last egg too. Goodness, you'd think we were cooking for the entire town."
"We are," Esme reminds her.
I gulp down my lemonade as Rowdy pours some for himself, squeezing my bottom as our mothers are turned around.
"Honey, can you drive to the store for me?" Esme looks down at the checklist she's made with exasperation. "We're out of a few ingredients."
"Sure thing, Ma." I guess that means I'm going with him, Rowdy waits patiently as she scribbles down a list, but she says each one aloud. Rowdy can hear something one time and remember it all. I watch him tap his jeans to the beat of each word she says.
I glance wistfully at the kitchen that's covered in food. Everything from chicken to lamb is wrapped in aluminum foil, lining the counters. There's a few pies in the oven, and an upside-down pineapple cake Esme set on the fridge to hide from Emmett. It's a lot for the supper tonight, but as of tomorrow I'll be a married woman.
Lord, where has the time gone?
The summer flew by with the commotion of wedding planning, pageant competitions, Rowdy's football camp, and the celebration of Alice's new teeth. It's been a great summer despite the fact that Rowdy just got back yesterday. I missed him like silly-crazy and I haven't left his side since.
"…And buy some of them pecans too," Ma adds. "I need 'em for the sweet potato casserole."
"Got it." He grabs the list and stuffs it into his jeans. I begin to walk after him but I turn around, feeling bad that I haven't made a single thing.
"You sure you don't need any help?"
Ma walks over to me and places both of her white-powered hands on my face. "This wedding, this dinner, everything, is my gift to you. The only thing I want you doing is relaxing and making sure that future husband of yours picks up chopped pecans and not whole."
I laugh and Ma kisses my cheek. "You got it."
I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug, feeling all sentimental because this is my last night in our house.
"I love you, honey," Ma whispers in my ear. "I just want you to know that. I'm so, so, so proud of you."
"For marrying?" I ask in confusion, pulling back. It's not like it's an accomplishment, per say.
"For following your heart, sug," Ma says, fixing my collar when it doesn't need fixing. "I followed mine and ended up having the best daughter I could've ever prayed for. That's what I want for you; a lifetime of happiness and love and everything you deserve in this world."
She's about to make me cry and I have to look away. "Thanks, Ma."
I wipe my face of the lingering flour and run towards Rowdy, who's waiting for me at the front door.
"What did she say?" he asks.
"To tell you to get chopped pecans and not whole."
He shrugs. "I don't see why it matters."
After seeing Ma pour an entire gallon of milk down the sink after Papa picked up the wrong one, it's my duty as his future wife to teach him why it does.
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.
.
Rowdy is still in the process of teaching me how to drive but it hasn't worked out too well.
My rain boots were definitely made for walkin'.
Rowdy drives to the grocery store, smoking a cigarette as he grips the steering wheel with his other hand.
"It's our last day as single folks," I say quietly. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"
"Nervous?" Rowdy's laugh is dry, like he's mocking me for even asking such a thing. "You'll be mine, Cottonseed, having my last name like you already have my heart. I ain't nervous at all. I'm excited."
"Me, too." I am nervous, but it's a good nervous. I can't wait to claim Rowdy as my husband in front of our family and friends. The whole town's been looking forward to it, even announcing it in the local paper. It was posted on the front page and everything.
Heiress to GatorSkins, Inc. to wed local cancer survivor this Saturday, August 15th.
Rowdy didn't have cancer and I'm not the heiress of anything.
They may have skewed a few details.
My boy flicks out his cigarette and rolls the window up. "Come over here. I want you to drive with me."
I raise an eyebrow, looking at him. "Isn't that a little dangerous?"
"Naw," he jokes. "You sitting all the way over there and making me turn to look at you is dangerous. You're kind of risking both of our lives."
"Is that so?" I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt. I'd never refuse him, so I scoot over as he opens his legs. I squeeze into the narrow spot as he lifts one arm to let me in. I grasp the steering wheel and he covers my hands with his.
I try to focus on the road, but he's making it impossible, kissing my neck. "Would you quit that?"
"Loving you?" I can see his smirk in the rearview mirror. "Never."
He knows what I mean, but he removes one hand to pull me closer. I gasp, feeling his hardness underneath me. I tremble and I automatically lose the ability to focus when my head falls back.
"Eyes up, Cotton," Rowdy whispers, grinding into me. I love-hate him so, so bad right now. I sink into him, moving my hips as he groans in my ear.
He's certifiably insane, with hot breath and wet lips. Rowdy has no respect for the law or the road, and I have no respect for myself. I force his arm to hold me tighter around the waist. I circle around and push myself into him. I can practically feel his heartbeat against my back.
"The police…" I gasp, trying to explain. "They'll pull us over."
Rowdy's hand reaches under the yellow top that matches my skirt. He tickles my stomach, right around the belly button. "For what, hm?"
He's baiting me, waiting for me to say exactly what he's doing to me. I won't fall for it. "For that."
His fingertips skim upward, underneath my bra, and I inhale sharply at his touch.
Rowdy's voice is raw and husky. "Naw, they won't. But I'll be honest and tell 'em I'm a wanted man."
"I've committed crimes in three different places…" He slides, glides, and tickles. He hitches my skirt upward and all I've got is the thin fabric of my panties to protect me. They're soaked and it's his doing.
"They'll ask me what I've done…" I'm stupid-crazy, to let him break me like this. His swollen lips kiss my feverish skin and I grip the wheel until my knuckles turn white.
"I'll confess it all, baby." I whimper and he holds me to him, rubbing me so I feel the hardness in his jeans. I swear they're going to pop open. I swear I'm going to let them.
"That I've corrupted you here…" He massages one breast, flicking my nipple so that I breathe his name until I've forgotten my own.
"Committed an offense here…" He's onto the other and I can't stop him. I don't want to. Keep going, keep going, keep going.
"And violated you here…" He pushes my wet panties to the slide, rubbing my clit as my hair falls down like a curtain. I fight to lift my head back up. I'm not helping to actually drive, but he makes me feel like I am. It's an accountability I want no part of.
"They'll have to read me my rights." Circles, circles, circles. He caresses me softly, but his teeth bite my collarbone. It's torturous, how he can be two things at once. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…"
I am holding and lingering. Breaking and moaning. Crying and falling. My world turns into a blur as he takes me to the edge. He never plans on bringing me back. He will leave me there, until all I can see is him.
I cry out and this time, I don't give a damn about the road. He leaves me to ride out this dark world with "I love yous" and "Cottonbabies" that I barely hear. I close my eyes as he jerks underneath me.
The only thing that makes me come to my senses is when the truck pulls slightly to the right.
"Rowdy!"
He corrects the vehicle and I'm glad no one else is on the road.
"See?" I huff and push myself off of his lap. He adjusts his jeans and gives me a crooked grin. "I told you it was dangerous."
Rowdy takes my hand and kisses each knuckle as if they are his and his alone.
"I suppose you were right. Good thing there weren't no cops around."
"To arrest us?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"To arrest me," he emphasizes. "For you, Cottonseed, I plan on serving life…"
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.
.
"I'm stuffed!" Papa pats his belly and leans back in his seat, full of greens and macaroni and cheese and roast beef.
"Mighty fine meal, ladies," Reverend Weber agrees. "Mighty fine meal."
Ma, Esme, Mrs. Hale, and Maggie Weber grin brightly. If there's anything a Southern woman takes pride in, it's her cooking. After we've eaten as much of Charlotte's mama's cheesecake as we possibly can, Ma stands up, clinking her butter knife against her glass.
"Now, this dinner is in celebration of my daughter and Rowdy, who I already consider my son. If there's anyone who would like to say a few words…"
Papa, who's the last person I expect to volunteer first, stands up as Ma sits down. "I reckon I'll do the honors. To my Cotton, the first of my girls, I'm awfully proud of you. I'll be the first to admit, I wasn't the first one to jump on this wedding bandwagon…"
A few of us chuckle nervously.
"But any man willing to prove they love my daughter more than me, is a man I consider worthy of being her husband. Rowdy, you take care of my girl and make me proud. Otherwise, I'm gonna string you up by them net traps you invented!"
"Charlie!" Ma gasps in shock but Papa starts laughing.
"I'm kidding. I'm happy for you both. But really…" Papa winks at Rowdy as he pretends to slice a finger across his neck. It's all in good fun and Rowdy chuckles with him.
Carlisle and Esme stand up next, while Harley Gene sits in a high chair, eating the potatoes Jessie keeps slipping her. Carlisle clears his throat. "I … uh … Congratulations to my son and Cotton. May y'all have a good life ahead of you."
We clap loudly and someone whistles from across the table. Carlisle is a man of few words, but I know he means every one of them.
'Round and 'round the table we go. Miss Sue promises to bring us food now and again, and Charlotte Rose says she's as thrilled as peas in carrot soup for us. Jessie tells us she hopes we make little babies, which causes Papa to choke on his sweet tea. After Ma performs the Heimlich Maneuver, even Victoria and Bree mumble a few nice words. The last to speak is Angela and she stands up slowly, catching a drink before it falls.
"I want to say that you two deserve each other. I'm glad you'll have someone to run to, nasty Gator Girl, after I'm done beating the shit out of you. I'm happy as a clam that dirty boy over here has cleaned up enough to marry your stuck-up, snooty, Bible-thumping, prissy as-"
"ANGELA!" Mrs. Weber smacks her daughter clear across her face.
The sound seems to vibrate in my eardrums, making me stare at her with wide eyes.
Angela's cheeks turn crimson and she points a shaky finger at me. "You slimy, gutter bitch! I cannot wait until he divorces you!"
I flinch when she throws her steak knife at me, barely missing my ear.
"I think y'all best be leavin," Papa says angrily, leaning over the table.
"In the car, NOW!" Reverend Weber gestures to the doorway, but Angela is already storming out.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" Mrs. Weber apologizes and Ma tells her it's okay. Bree and Victoria rush out with them, and even they give me a look of pity.
"Cotton, sweetie, let's just ignore-" Ma tries to calm down the situation, but I've already scraped my chair backwards. Rowdy grabs my arm, but I can't.
It never ends—this, them … everything. It seems like I can't catch a break, no matter how hard I try.
I race from the dining room, past my family and friends and up to my room. I climb the stairs two at a time and slam my bedroom door behind me.
I never make it to my empty bed.
I slide against the wall and my tears fall faster than I do.
There's a slight knock on the door, but I don't answer. They come in anyways, locking the door behind them.
"Cotton?" It's Rowdy, as usual. My prince and shining armor, ready to rescue me.
He can't save me from this.
When I don't answer, Rowdy kneels beside me, putting a gentle hand on my back. "Cotton, it's okay. You can't let Angela-"
"Shut up!" I don't ever yell at Rowdy, but this time I do and it's with full force. He doesn't understand. He doesn't get how tired I am of her shit, how hard it is to let that roll off of me again and again and again.
My tears overflow and I look up, wiping my face. "Shut up, Rowdy! I don't want to hear it! Be the better person, you say. Don't let her get to you, you told me. What good has that done me, huh? I'm tired, Rowdy. Sick and tired. She couldn't even let me have this! This was supposed to be our day, our dinner, and she had to go and ruin it. I could kill her! On all that's good and holy, I could actually kill her!"
Rowdy lets me sit there, sobbing until I can't breathe. He clutches me in his arms, rocking me back and forth. "She doesn't matter, Cotton. Why can't you see that? She doesn't matter."
I pull back from him, looking at him with red eyes. "She does, Rowdy! Don't you get it? She matters 'cause she's this … this thing, this infinite little thing that keeps seeping her way into our relationship. She's worse than your seizures or your sickness or not playing football or any other bad thing you can think of. She's there and she'll always be there, waiting to ruin whatever little bit of happiness I have. She cuts at it, Rowdy. Cutting and chopping until there's nothing of me left. And when there's no me, there's no us. That's why she matters, Rowdy. That's why…"
"What do you want me to do, baby?" Rowdy sweeps my hair back and whispers in my ear softly. "Tell me what to do."
I sniff and I feel a chill run down my spine. I lock my eyes with his and I feel as cold as Angela's heart.
"Get rid of her."
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"Sign here." The cop points to a line as Rowdy hands me a pen. Papa stands over us, watching to make sure I cross my t's and dot my i's.
"Sign again here … initial here … and write the date here." Officer Paul flips through the stack of papers, looking everything over. "I think that'll be all. We'll serve these immediately. But remember, this restraining order is temporary and you've got a court date in three weeks. If you see her, do not interact or engage with her. If she's already attacked you with a knife and threatened you, there's no telling what else she is capable of. So you call us right away, understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Y'all try and have a good night. And congratulations, Miss Swan. My wife and I have been looking forward to this wedding for months now."
I give him half a grin as Papa shakes his hand. Rowdy wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses my forehead. "You feel better now?"
I nod, the queasy feeling in my stomach starting to settle. I know a little piece of paper can't keep Angela away forever, but it's a start. But I feel guilty 'cause now it's going to cause a rift between the Webers and us. The Reverend and his wife have always been good to me. I wonder if we'll have to change churches.
"Papa?" I look up at him as he walks us outside to the muggy summer weather. "Is Reverend Weber going to be mad?"
"Oh, honey." Rowdy lets go of my hand as Papa wraps me in a hug. "Once Rowdy suggested the restraining order, I called the pastor before we headed over here. He and Maggie know and they're not mad at all. They kept apologizing and apologizing. They're sending that girl of theirs across town to live with his sister. He told me he's had it up to here with her shenanigans and tonight was the last straw. You ain't got to worry about her anymore. I hear Colleen Weber is one tough cookie. Little Miss Weber will be lucky if she sees daylight again."
I hug him back and I'm grateful I've got two men in my life that go above and beyond to protect me.
"I'm headed back to the house. You two comin'?" Papa asks, releasing me to grab his keys out of his pocket.
"You mind if we take our time and walk back? It's probably still busy over there. I think Cotton needs a little fresh air." Rowdy takes my hand again and squeezes it tightly.
"Sure thing." Papa tips his hat and climbs into his vehicle. Rowdy and I watch him speed off as he leads me away from the police station. It's awfully quiet in the middle of town, but for once I'm happy the streets aren't filled with people.
We walk for half a mile in silence, enjoying the night air and each other's company.
"Thanks, Rowdy." My fingers brush over the brick wall between the barber shop and the art gallery that closed years ago.
"For what?"
"For everything," I explain, trying to keep in step with him as we cross the street. "You always seem to know what to do. Even when I'm at my worst you have this way of being my best."
"That's 'cause I love you, Cotton." Rowdy leads me to the fountain—our fountain, where he first told me he loved me. He takes a seat on the edge of the cement and I sit on his lap. Our names are still there, carved in stone. He runs a finger over the engraving, lingering over my name.
"I'd do anything for you." His eyes shine, even in the dim light of the street lamps. I don't think I'll ever get used to having him or loving him. "But I have to say I'm torn."
"Torn?" I frown, not understanding what he means.
"Yeah, torn," he says, entangling my hands with his. "I feel like we're always battling something or someone. I'm ripped in half, trying to fight for you and love you at the same time."
"Oh." I feel guilty. Love shouldn't be like that, some hard decision where he should have to choose between something for me and me. "Do you regret it then?"
"What? No!" Rowdy takes my chin and kisses me softly on the lips. "I'd fight for you every day, Cotton. I'm just wondering when it all stops and we get our moment of bliss."
"Maybe never," I shrug. "Maybe our love is the type of love so rare you gotta keep at it, you know what I mean? Like maybe it's so damn wonderful, the universe says we've got too much. So it's making us work for it."
"Yeah?" Rowdy chuckles and the vibrations go straight to my heart. "I like that idea."
"Me too."
I lay my head on Rowdy's shoulder and kick my feet back and forth. A car drives slowly past us, the driver beeping and waving. We give a slight wave back to Miss Sue, who can barely see, much less drive at night.
"Cotton?"
"Hmm?" I close my eyes, humming against the beats in his chest. It's like a lullaby, peaceful and serene.
"You remember the first words I ever said to you?"
"Something about my eyes being shit brown," I answer sarcastically, yawning into his shirt.
Rowdy chuckles. "No, not that. The first words."
I think back real hard, but the events of the day are making me tired. I snuggle closer to him, wrapping my knees into his lap. "You told me to wake up."
"Yeah, I did. I told you to wake up. But don't do that, okay? One of these days I'm going to ask you if this was all real and I need you tell me it wasn't."
My eyes flutter and I barely breathe out my next question. "Why's that?"
"'Cause," Rowdy answers, whispering above my head. "A love like ours can't really exist. And if it does, that means God can hear my prayers. But Cottonseed, you're better than anything I ever whispered up to Heaven."