Chapter 5 Rowe
Rowe
It feels like the entire world has tipped over and I’m falling off it. “The farm is in foreclosure?”
Mom presses her lips together as her eyes well up with tears. “Honey, I would’ve told you sooner, but I just couldn’t.”
She looks so shattered. I get it. I completely understand why she didn’t say anything before.
But it’s more than a blow. My head’s swimming. My stomach’s done up in knots. I’m going to be sick.
“You’re green.” She comes over and takes me by the arms. “Let’s sit you down.”
I let her guide me to a chair, where I sit and slump over, placing my head between my knees and taking in deep gulps of air.
We’ve lost the farm. What will we do? Where will we go? What am I going to do with my piggycorns? Where will I take them?
A light bulb pings, and I lift my head. “Maybe I can buy the place, or at least pay some of what’s owed.”
She shakes her head sadly, making her big hoop earrings swing from side to side. “We owe over forty thousand dollars.”
Now not only has the earth tilted, but I’m floating lifeless in outer space. “Forty thousand?”
I can’t even wrap my head around that. I have some money saved, but not much. It’s certainly not forty thousand dollars.
The doorbell rings. In my delirium, all I can think to say is “Bill’s here so fast. When did you get off the phone with him?”
She glances down at her cell. “I have no idea who it is. But I’ll go see.”
I groan. “It better not be Sally Ray or the sheriff.”
In case it’s the sheriff and I have to beg him not to ticket me for this morning’s piggycorn fiasco, I follow Mom to the front door. Soon as she swings it open, I suck in air.
There stands all six foot three of Luke Preston. His hair is clipped short on the sides, and a rolling wave of a pompadour rests on top. He grins his snakelike, thousand-watt smile at Mom and pulls a wad of hundreds from his front pocket.
“I’m here for the furniture.”
What?
Mom glances nervously over her shoulder at me. “Um, Luke, you were supposed to come just before the sale.”
He slaps the money into the palm of his opposite hand. “Well, I’m here now with cash.”
I step between them, focusing on Mom, who looks super guilty. “What’s he talking about?”
She rubs her forehead. The easy breezy new age person inside her doesn’t want to talk.
“Mom,” I urge her. “What is this? Why is he here?”
“He’s going to buy some of Grandma’s old furniture.” My mother shoots laser beams of fire from her eyes at Luke. “But he wasn’t supposed to do it until just before the foreclosure went through.”
Luke waves the money around like it’s his first time in a strip club and he just can’t wait to slide dollar bills into panties. “Like I said, I’m here now with the cashola. Take it or leave it.”
I want to slap the smug smirk right off his face. “Mom, you can’t let him do this.”
“We need the money, hon,” she tells me, clearly resigned to this horrible situation.
“I’ll be quick, Sabra. Just want the pieces we talked about.”
Mom moves out of the way, and Luke sidesteps her, aiming to breeze his ass into my house and take stuff that doesn’t belong to him.
I block his path. “There’s no way in hell you’re coming in here and taking anything.”
“Rowe Davenport Wadley, watch your language,” Mom snaps.
I throw up my hands. “I’m sorry, but this situation calls for it.”
Luke scoffs in amusement at our kerfuffle, but I stand firm. He’s not getting by me.
My ex slicks a hand down his beard and studies me like I’m a rabbit he’s about to shoot and kill. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” I flash my hand toward Mom. “Again, please excuse the cussing.” Then I turn on Luke. “You can’t charge in here and take things that don’t belong to you.”
He takes an intimidating step forward and glares down his nose at me. I lift my chin defiantly.
“Your mom and I have an agreement.”
“Well, you can just have an un-agreement.”
“Rowe,” Mom says, moving toward me.
I drag my gaze away from my second-to-worst enemy (Sally Ray is my absolute worst) to fix it on my mother. “What?”
“Rowe,” she scolds.
“Sorry. Ma’am?”
Even in the heat of an argument, no Southern mother will allow a child to forget their manners.
“Since Luke knows about the foreclosure—”
I sneer. “Of course he does. Seeing as how he runs the bank.”
Her jaw clenches. “He offered to buy some furniture to give us money.”
“I’m sure he did,” I boom so loudly that it’s surprising the glass in the windows doesn’t blow out.
“I bet he’s happy to take Grandma’s antique French sideboard off our hands so that he can give it to Sally Ray, who’s wanted it forever.
Not to mention the horsehair chaise that’s been in the family for a hundred years.
Yep. I just bet you’re happy to help out us poor folks, aren’t you, Luke? ”
He gives me a long look before tearing his gaze away and turning to Mom. He slaps the wad of bills in her hand and says over his shoulder, “Come on, Sims.”
Ronald Sims, an old high school friend and newly minted traitor, enters the house. He takes off his baseball hat and crushes it between his hands as he stares at the floor. “I sure am sorry about this, Rowe.”
“You should be, helping out the enemy.”
“He pays good,” Ron whimpers.
Ron’s a neighbor who also works at the feedstore. I’ve known him my whole life, and I’m good friends with his wife, too. Jennifer’s the town pharmacist.
“Let’s grab the couch,” Luke says, giving me a chilly look before heading into the living room, his boots thudding against the floorboards.
No way will Luke Preston take family treasures from my home.
Before Ron can reach the chaise, I throw myself on top of it starfish-style and clutch the sides in a death grip. I really hope this doesn’t tear the upholstery.
“If it goes, I go with it!”
Luke sighs in annoyance. “Get off the couch, Rowe.”
“It’s a chaise—and no!”
I peek over my shoulder to see him drop his hands to his waist and shift from hip to hip. “You’re being childish.”
“I don’t care. You’re not taking it.” I tighten my grip. “How much is he paying you, Mom?”
“Well, I don’t, um . . .”
“I’ll pay whatever he is.” I pop up to see if my bribe is affecting her. Mom scratches her head, thinking about it. “I’ll double it!”
“Get off the couch,” Luke snaps. “It’s mine. Not yours. I paid for it. Come on, Ron. Let’s get it up.”
“I don’t know, Luke. I hate to hurt Rowe.”
“Rowe won’t be on it.” Luke lifts the chaise from the bottom and tips it in a vain attempt to dislodge me.
Clearly, he does not know the power of a determined female. He’s just lucky I don’t have children to protect. If that were the case, his eyes would’ve been scratched out minutes ago.
I clutch the fabric harder. “I am not leaving, no matter what you do.”
“That’s it.” Luke tugs me by the waist, trying to pull me off.
Desperate times call for desperate measures: I begin licking the chaise. No, this isn’t my finest moment. Obviously. But sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.
“I’m spreading my germs all over it,” I say between licks while Luke tries to detach me from the heirloom. “I’m calling Sally Ray first thing and telling her what I’ve done. She won’t want this now, not after I’ve licked the whole thing.”
“That’s right disgusting,” Ron agrees. He cocks an eye at Luke. “You sure you want this?”
Luke drags a hand through his hair. “Let’s grab the sideboard instead.”
If he thinks I’m going to let him have my grandmother’s sideboard, he’s an even bigger idiot than I thought.
I catapult off the chaise and scamper around him.
Soon as I’m off, he turns back to the chaise. “Let’s get it, Ron.”
I watch in horror as Luke and Ron walk the chaise out the door.
“Mom,” I beg.
“We need the money. I can’t ask you to give up what you have.”
“But I would,” I whimper.
She pulls me into a hug. “It’s just furniture. It’s just things. It’s not people.”
I almost crack at that, but when Luke, boots thudding on the sidewalk, heads back this way, lava boils in my gut.
I rush back over to the mahogany sideboard and throw myself on top of it.
I clamp my arms on the sides. “No.”
Luke ignores me. “Grab the other end, Ron.”
“With her on it?”
“With her on it.” I look up to see him nod stiffly. His pointy beard makes him look like a sinister villain in an old cartoon. “At some point she’s bound to get off.”
“I will not.”
“Rowe, be reasonable,” Mom pleads.
“I will not be reasonable. There’s nothing reasonable about handing over family heirlooms to them. Don’t you remember what he did to me, Mom?”
“Of course I do.”
Luke rolls his eyes. “Get off, Rowe.”
“And what if I don’t?”
He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Then I’ll drive with you on top of this cabinet all over downtown for everyone to see. They already know about the farm. What are they going to think when they see you hanging on to this sideboard?”
“They’ll think I’ve got principles,” I spit.
He shakes his head. He’s so close that the blackheads on his nose wave to me. “They’re gonna think, ‘Poor Rowe Wadley, all that bad shit she’s suffered has finally got the best of her and her brain broke.’”
I hate him so much.
It’s not just that Luke left me. He took a part of me with him, and now he wants to take pieces of my life. I simply can’t allow that.
“Mom, I’ll give you everything I’ve got,” I shout, “if you won’t sell to him.”
“Let’s go,” Luke tells Ron.
They lift the sideboard and proceed to walk with me leeched on top of it.
Mom looks terrible as she watches me act like an oversized toddler. “You’re gonna need your savings, hon. Please, just get down and let him have it.”
As soon as Luke’s through the doorway, I throw out my arms and grip the doorframe. Luke’s thievery comes to a halt as I hold on to the wall with all my might.
He sighs like I’m nothing more than a pesky mosquito. “Release it.”
“No.” I glance back at Mom. “Whatever he’s giving you, I’ll triple it!”
No clue if I have that much money, but it’s worth a shot.
“Rowe, please. We need this. I need this.”
It’s the I need this that does me in. It feels like I’m stealing from the one person who’s only ever wanted to provide for me.
That’s what finally makes me drop my hands and whisper in defeat, “Fine. Take it.”
I slide off the sideboard and watch with tears as they load it up into the bed of his truck. When Luke returns, I figure it’s over, but when he also grabs my grandmother’s antique hurricane lamp, two side tables, and a matching pair of mission lounge chairs, I stop watching.
My heart can’t break anymore, I think. It just can’t.
“Please don’t hold this against me,” Ron begs, looking pathetic with his shoulders slumped.
I shake my head. “Jennifer and I are too good of friends for that. You gotta do what you got to.”
When Luke’s finally heading out the door, I slink over and start to throw it closed.
“Good riddance.”
But his foot shoots out, blocking it. I gasp as my ex pushes the door open and sticks his head in.
“Learn your place, Rowe. You didn’t win this battle, and when the war comes to your front door, you’ll lose again.
This house will be foreclosed on, and I’m going to get every single piece of it that I want. ”
A chill winds like a ribbon down my spine and snaps tight. I can’t believe that there was a time when I loved this man. Loved him. Desperately. With all my heart and soul. I would have given him everything—and I did. Or almost did.
“See you around, Rowe.”
He releases his hold and I shove the door closed.
It’s when I hear him walking down the porch steps that I venture a look at the living room. There’s nothing left except for my dad’s old, frayed recliner. Everything else is gone.
Anger gurgles in my veins. There’s no way in hell I will ever let Luke Preston get hold of this farm.
I’ll die before that day comes.