Page 88 of Bar Down, Baby

“Oh, well, they’re of a private nature,” she says.

I’m quiet. She’s asking me for money, but she won’t tell me what it’s for. The back of my throat burns as I wait for her to say more.

“Your stepdaddy, well, he’s gotten accused of something. And you know him, Megsy. Kyle wouldn’t ever do a damn thing to hurt anyone else. But some bitch in the park wants to get back at him for marrying me, and we all know she’s been sucking off the police chief.”

“Momma,” I start to say, but she’s not listening.

“It’s just a small amount. I’m good for it, I swear. I’ve got a steady job. I’ve been working at the diner again. Doing regular shifts. It’s just the money is due tomorrow and I don’t get paid until Friday.”

I let out a deep sigh. I should say no. I should hang up the phone and not take her calls.

“You know I’d only ask if I was desperate. A mother should never ask something like this of her baby girl. And you know your stepdaddy would never hear of it. You can’t tell him I asked you.”

“Please stop calling him that,” I say, but she’s not listening.

“Just say no, Megsy, and I’ll pretend I never asked. Really, we’ll figure something else out.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, don’t you worry, sweet girl. You always did worry too much. You just worry about keeping that man happy and that baby safe.”

I don’t like the way her tone makes my stomach flip. She’s quiet for a long minute and I don’t say anything either. Finally, she sighs.

“I’m sorry, Megsy. I wasn’t in a good place when you came to visit.” Her voice is different. It’s softer somehow, more lucid. “I regret not hugging you when you were here. You and that little bump.”

“Mmm.” I can’t bring myself to say anything else.

“I can’t deny the fact that I have an addiction. I’m working through it. I have my issues. I know that. I’m sorry that I hurt you when you were here. I know you were only here for me.”

Her voice is soft and she sounds genuine. I’ve done this with her before. Fallen for this same dog and pony show.

I should hang up.

But I don’t hang up.

And I don’t tell her no.

“Okay, Momma,” I say. “How much?”

“Oh, it’s not much. We just need fifteen hundred for the court fees. And then, and only if you can swing it, another two hundred so we can get your stepdaddy a nicer suit for his court appearance. Can’t have him looking shabby when defending his life.”

“Okay, Momma,” I say, blinking back the hot, angry tears. I fold my legs beneath me and sit for a long moment, just staring at my phone. Then I text the only person who would understand.

CHAPTER33

MEGAN

“Areyou sure you want to do this?” Bee’s voice is soothing. It’s loud in the background, like a door opens and then shuts. She’s on her break at the hard rock bar she bartends at between dancing gigs. Every time I help my mom, she’s there, in my corner.

“I can’t not,” I say quietly. I’m walking up Hawthorne to Fred Meyer where there’s a Western Union. Mom isn’t exactly reliable about keeping bank accounts and whatnot. “If you don’t want to have to go out there to get it—”

“You know I don’t mind. I’ll do anything for you.”

“I know,” I say quietly.

It was pretty soul sucking to walk into my bank and withdraw seventeen hundred dollars from my pathetic savings account. I’d been able to stock some more away for the baby over the past couple of months, since business had been better than expected. And this is most of it.

But there’s still time. I can make some of it back. I’ve always been thrifty and I’m sure things will work themselves out when the baby arrives. It’s not like I grew up with a fancy crib or brand name diapers or anything. And Swedish babies, which everyone knows are basically the smartest babies in the world, sleep in cardboard boxes.

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