“I HAD TO, I had no choice.” Micah finally admits.
And here I go.
“And I HAD to give up my baby, I had no choice.” I don’t back down. I square my shoulders and stand tall. Hell you had no choice, but then again either did I!
“I don’t know what the hell to think or feel?” Micah’s pacing back and forth, talking with himself.
I’m incapable of calming him right now. If I stay things will continue to the point of one of us will say something we will both regret. To say I’m angry, hell yes I am, but I’m also heartbroken.
Biting my lip, I’ll help him out. “I’ll make it easy on you. GO.TO.HELL.”
Stomping my way to my car, I don’t even take one last glance at my parents. Over my shoulder, feeling dejected, I hollar, “All of you…can go to hell.”
THROWING MY CAR in reverse, I can see Micah yelling at me to stop. I think he’s realized he has pushed me too far. I pay no attention to him or my parents who stood in the same spot, just staring at me as I drive away. Matt is the only one looking up at the sky, searching for answers he most likely will never find. I should know I’ve done it for years.
Screeching my tires, my anger has me so worked up my body is trembling from head to toe. I so badly want to yell, hit something, or just drown myself in vodka. Any of the three would work, but the idea of liquor numbing this crushing feeling in my chest seems to be the winner.
Growing up in Cedar Rapids, Iowa does not leave much to choose from when it comes to bars. After driving around for what seems like forever, I ended up at a dive on the South part of town. The Pink Safari, an out of the way place with pink flamingo’s decorating the outside seemed liked the perfect place to drown myself. No one would think to look for me here. Micah and I need time to cool off. Only then can we talk rationally. Right now, emotions are at an all time high. He needs time to process this, alone.
My damn phone was blowing up with calls and messages. Walking into the bar, I glance once more at my phone seeing it’s Micah’s missed calls and texts. With a shake of my head, I press the off button. When I wanted to talk, he didn’t. Now he wants to talk, and I don’t.
Swearing under my breath, I head for the bar to grab a seat when I’m greeted.
“What can I get ya, little lady?” What a voice it was, I glanced up to see a real life cowboy, no shit. Hat and all, he looked the part.
Amused, and completely surprised, I sigh, “Gin and Tonic please.” Never would have guessed a cowboy would work in a place with pink flamingos’ but hey, who am I to judge? I get a hot cowboy to serve me drinks. Lucky girl.
Smiling he slaps his hand to the bar. “Yes ma’am, coming right up.”
Mixing my drink, I just watch cowboy go to work. My mind suddenly wonders, where was this guy years ago?
“Here ya go, sweet thing.” Placing my drink on a napkin, he slides it to me until my fingers touch his.
“Thank you.” I whisper.
“You okay? Looks like you’ve been crying? None of my business, but sure hate to see a cute thing like you all sad.” The sincerity in his voice is nice and a welcome relief to Micah’s shouting. I wished Micah could have spoken to me like this, hell, to know he cared would have been nice, too. I knew he’d be mad and upset, but not downright mean and cold. No way, that was just uncalled for.
Sadly, I say. “I’ve had a bit of a bad day.”
Nodding, he lifts a corner of his hat. “I’m a great listener, you need to let it out, name’s Caleb.”
Country boy through and though. His voice matches the whole cowboy theme he has going on. Watching him, I can’t help taking him in. With a voice like Garth Brooks, and a body you would expect a cowboy to have, Caleb, was hot. Tanned skin, defined muscles, tight shirt, snug jeans. Glancing over the bar, yep, even cowboy boots. Wow! Now, I do realize he knows I’m checking him out, but who gives a shit. The smile he’s trying to hide doesn’t work so he cracks up laughing back at me.
“Thanks Caleb, appreciate it, but...” I say taking a nice long drink, letting it burn my throat, “You don’t need to hear my sad story. No reason we both need to be feeling down.”
“Way I see it, I need to cheer you up. You need to be smiling, not crying. Assume over some dick, am I right?” The twinkle in his questioning eye draws out a chuckle.
Nodding, I agree. “I will admit, I do feel better after talking with you for all of five minutes. You must be a miracle worker, because if you would've seen my mood just before I walked in these doors,” I say pointing toward the door. “Well, let’s just say I was ready to hit something or someone.”
“Pfft, if that’s what you need, take a swing my way. I’m a big boy, I can take it.” Caleb says with a sexy wink.
Instantly, I spit my gin out. “See? Miracle worker. I thank you for that… sir.”
“Ouch, Sir. No.No.No. That will not do…Caleb will work just fine. Sir would be my father, and he’s not here.” He says with a wink.
“Caleb, you are a sweet talker, aren’t ya?” I say with a meek eyebrow raise.
He chuckles. “Been told that a time or two, I guess.”
Small talk continued for several hours, along with several more drinks. More customers came and went and a group of what I assume are Caleb groupies came in half dressed, giggling like school girls. Rolling my eyes at their attempt to flirt, he kept ignoring them, laughing with me instead.
“Wow.” I mouthed to him as the girls kept at it.
Walking next to me, he leans against the bar. “Yeah, got my own groupies, haven’t you heard? Sweet thing, I thought you would become one of them.” He’s flirting and bites his tongue between his teeth while raising both eyebrows at me, waiting for me to respond.
Taking another drink, I only shake my head. “Pfft, no way, dear Caleb, you seem to be doing just fine. I am in no way the type of girl you need.”
“Now, I beg to differ with you on that.” Pressing his lips together he moans…out loud. “I would say you are exactly my type of girl.” Leaning into my space, with both of his arms are lying on the bar, he keeps moving toward my face. This is not what I need right now.
I’m halfway to not giving a crap about my shitty mood or the disaster of my life at the moment. I have this hot looking cowboy who is being nice and flirty with me. To him I’m not a disappointment, not a failure, not a bad person. I am just a sad, cute girl he is making smile with every glance and wink. To hell with it, I’m going to play along. I need to laugh. No harm done, just friendly flirting back and forth.
An hour later while I continue to watch Caleb serve drinks, I stupidly reach for my phone. I’m bored, so I turn it on. I’ve lost count of, the number of drinks I’ve consumed and looking at the time, I see it’s way passed dinner. Shit, I missed lunch, too. No wonder I’m close to being three sheets right now. Barely able to roll my eyes, I sway to the music that is playing on the sound system. My cowboy Caleb, is playing a favorite song of his, I would assume. Garth Brooks’, Friends in Low Places has me singing and rocking side to side. Paying no attention to him, I see twenty-seven missed calls from Micah, twelve missed calls from Liza, and ten from Nick. Lord almighty, I have thirty texts, mostly from Micah. Wow…and nothing from my parents. Go figure!
“Whatcha’ doing, sweet thing?” Caleb appears next to me, sitting at the bar stool on my right, smiling from ear to ear.
“Oh, looking at the bitch fest who is trying to figure out where I am.” I slur my words laughing. I know none of it is funny, but right now, I can’t help laughing.
Glancing down at my phone, he sees a text message from Micah. Pulling it toward him, he reads it.
“Wow,” he whistles, “this Micah seems really worried about you?”
I try to lick my lips but my mouth is dry as a bone. I dismiss hearing him say Micah is worried about me. “Oh, I’m sure he is, he didn’t want to talk earlier. No, he wanted to yell at me and blame me for it all. I begged, and he refused to talk. Well, now I refuse.”