Chapter 11
The words jolted Blue awake. Looking up from her bed, she found her brother Finch.
“What are you doing here?”
“I got some leave, and I repeat, why aren’t you in New York, and instead sleeping in your parents’ house?”
“This is my bedroom.”
“You know that’s not what I meant, Blue.”
“I worked at the Rollaway for boys’ night. I’m tired.” She yawned.
The dogs, who had both slept on the bottom of the bed, were now on the floor, wagging their tails. The Labradors, Sage and Basil, greeted Finch enthusiastically.
Blue’s brother was big with short dirty-blond hair and brown eyes. Even dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, he looked military—neat, precise, and ruthlessly fit, his body lean and toned.
It was strange that a McAllister, from the hippie family of Lyntacky, had decided to enter the military, but then, Finch had always been the one who liked rules. Unfortunately for him, he lived in a family that didn’t have any.
She pushed herself upright and rubbed her eyes. Yawning, Blue swung her legs out of bed and stood, weaving slightly. She then hugged her brother.
“Hey, Bluebelle.” His big arms closed around her, and his head rested on top of hers.
“Hey, you.” She leaned into all that strength.
Her family were touchers. Raised by two parents who constantly talked about feelings and made their children sit for ten minutes each night, hugging and talking about their day, you learned to accept contact.
“What’s going on, Blue?” He eased her back, hands on her shoulders. “Something is off with you. I spoke to Lynx yesterday, and he wouldn’t tell me why, but he said he was worried about you.”
“That had to be annoying, and there is nothing to worry about.” She stepped back and slipped her feet into slippers that she always had with her summer or winter. To Blue, there was nothing as comfortable as well-worn slippers. She then left her old room and made for the kitchen.
It was a house that was loved. It was never about aesthetics to Hamish and Meadow McAllister but about their beliefs and comfort.
Walls were lined with kids’ drawings and handprints and then a quote saying something like, “I am at peace with who I am as a person.”
The hall gave way to a kitchen living space. The walls had been sunshine yellow for as long as Blue could remember and had two huge sunflowers painted on them. More drawings and inspirational quotes were hung about in here too.
If the furniture in the living area was broken, it was repaired and not replaced.
Her parents cared nothing for material possession, which she kinda admired, as she was the opposite.
Her apartment in New York held pieces she’d worked hard to pay off, and they matched.
She’d gone for cool and classy and thought she’d succeeded.
Her parents didn’t drink coffee, but their children did. So Finch had purchased a coffee machine, which the older McAllisters hid in a cupboard when none of their offspring were visiting.
“Where are Mom and Dad?”
“They have gone to the lake to do sun salutations with a few others.”
In any other Lyntacky household, this could be seen as unusual, but not in the McAllister home. They’d been raised by being dragged out of bed to see the sunrise more times than she could ever hope to count.
Blue filled the coffee machine and switched it on. She then reached for the biscuits her mom made. The residual symptom from the bug she’d caught was that she felt nauseous at weird times throughout the day.
“How’s things in the army, Finch?”
Her brother was a first lieutenant, and she was proud of him. Their parents might not understand their firstborn child’s need for the career he’d chosen, but they supported him as best they could.
“Good, now back to you,” he said, getting down the mugs they hid where their parents couldn’t find them, not the mismatched and uneven ones Blue had made them when she was a child.
“I just told you I worked last night.”
“But there’s more going on, isn’t there?” he pressed.
Blue sighed. “I haven’t told Mom, Dad, or Birdie yet.”
“Okay, well, you can do that later. Talk.”
So she did, explaining what happened at Cavanagh Sale.
“Do you want me to head there and beat the shit out of them? Lynx will help me,” he said, looking a little mean.
“No one is beating anyone up. I’m a big girl, and I handled it.”
“You walked away and let them off the hook. How is that handling it, Blue?” He passed her a mug and then reached for the baking jar.
Inside were peanut butter, banana, and chocolate chip oatmeal bars. Their mother was the best baker around, as far as Blue was concerned. They had grown up vegan, and she could honestly say the food was awesome… most of the time.
Her mother used to bake her these and add extra dark chocolate and honey when it was her and Birdie’s time of the month.
The thought had her going still. She was never regular, as she had polycystic ovary syndrome, but when was her last period?
“Why do you suddenly look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Finch asked, leaning in to study her face.
“Nothing. Sit,” she said, sounding breathless.
Don’t panic, Blue. This is just stress and your condition. She’d lost track, that was all. Surely she’d had a period since leaving New York?
“I’ll sit on you if you don’t tell me what’s going on,” Finch said.
“Nothing. I’m stressed. I don’t have a job, and I’m not sure what to do next.” She wasn’t exactly lying, but it was a near thing.
“I’ve known you since you were born, Blue Jay McAllister. You’re lying to me.”
Panic was the only word for what was running through her now. She couldn’t be pregnant—could she? No, no, no, she was just…what? They didn’t use a condom because like she’d told Jay she was on the pill.
“I, ah…. I need to go into town.”
“Talk to me, Blue.”
She turned and walked away from him.
“I’m driving you, then.” He went past her and out the door first.
Blue knew better than to argue with Finch. He was a second lieutenant and dealt with people far tougher than his little sister. Besides, she felt weak and shaky.
I’m imagining this.
Outside, the McAllister gardens were a riot of color, and all Blue could think was this can’t be happening to me.
“Why turquoise, though, Blue?” Finch said when they were walking to his car. “And the flowers on the end. I mean, like we don’t already stand out enough being the hippie McAllisters.”
Blue looked at the house behind her. Two months ago, her parents had painted it a bright turquoise. Not easy on the eyes, and definitely not subtle. Then, on the end of the front wall, they’d put a pink hibiscus flower.
“I’m not sure why that surprises you, Finch. You grew up here, right?”
He grunted at that and got in the car.
When the youngest McAllister, Birdie, married her grumpy, bearded husband, he brought a lot of money into the family. They’d told him they didn’t need his money. He’d ignored them and went about fixing the place up.
The windows had been repaired and a new garage built, and it still looked like a hippie compound, but more classy.
Blue climbed into her brother’s rental sedan, and they drove out the drive. At the end was a small stall where they sold what they harvested or created. Anything from diaper rash cream to face oils.
I can’t be pregnant.
The drive wasn’t a long one, and soon they were pulling into the main street, and the panic inside Blue was almost choking her.
“This place never changes,” Finch said, his eyes moving from left to right. It was an eclectic mix. Storefronts were painted different colors, some with hanging baskets, others with goods on tables outside. “Morning, Shelly,” he added looking at her statue.
Blue remembered how once she’d been in the dentist’s chair and had to dance with a numb mouth and cotton rolls stuffed in her cheeks.
There was no reason good enough not to participate.
“I come back here, and it’s like a time warp.”
“Not true. We have new stores. Like Ryder’s cafe and the Indian restaurant.” Blue wasn’t sure why she was protesting because she felt exactly the same about Lyntacky when she came home from New York.
“Where am I driving you to?”
“The pharmacy.”
“For what?” Finch demanded.
“You don’t ask a woman questions like that,” Blue said quickly.
Her brother shot her a look before pulling into a parking space outside the pharmacy.
“I won’t be long.”
“Can you get me some men’s deodorant? Not the smelly stuff.”
“You didn’t pass, like, a gazillion pharmacies on your way to Lyntacky?” If she was arguing with him, she wasn’t thinking about the possibilities of the test she was about to buy.
“Just get the damn stuff, will you, or I will.”
Blue got out after a loud sigh. She didn’t want him following her inside.
“Hey, there, Blue. Good to see you again.”
“Thanks, Dr. Hannah.”
The woman walking toward her was absolutely the last one she wanted to see right about now.
“I’ve been thinking that maybe you could have duplicate medical files sent to me here in Lyntacky, just in case you get sick when you visit Meadow and Hamish.”
The woman had been treating the sick in Lyntacky since Blue was a child, and Dr. Hannah knew everything about everyone in town.
As long as Blue’d known her, she’d never changed her style.
Knitted cardigan, swapped out for a short-sleeved knitted jumper in the summer, and a plaid skirt.
The woman was short and round and strong-minded. Few were keen to cross her.
“Did you see who was in the car? It’s Finch. I’m sure he’d love a catch-up with you, Doc,” Blue said, pointing to her brother. He in turn held up a hand, and then with the other, he flipped her the bird, clearly having heard her conversation with the doctor.
“Finch, lovely. I need to chat with him about the same thing I discussed with you.”
It was only as she walked in through the open door that she realized her error. Blue knew so many people in this town that the news would be around town by nightfall if the wrong person saw her buying a pregnancy test.
“Hi, Blue. How long are you back for this time?”
“Hi, LouJean, and I’m not sure at this stage.”
The woman walked most mornings with Bart, was always immaculate, and her clothes often had a square-dancing theme.
“Well, I hope you’ll stick around for the annual cookout.”
Blue frowned. Since when had Lyntacky had an annual cookout?
“We’re in our third year. Surprised your folks haven’t told you about it. Their tofu burgers go down a treat. Anyway, must dash. Try the fancy oatmeal soap. Does wonderful things for your skin.”
Blue shuffled sideways as LouJean walked by at her usual speed, and then she found herself in an aisle that had a sign that read “things to make bedroom activities fun.”
Only in Lyntacky, Blue thought, seeing a jar of lube and condoms. But at least she was in the right place.
I’m not pregnant. This is just to reassure myself of that.
Looking at the counter, Blue saw a girl she didn’t recognize working there, which was good. There were two other people in the store. One was Bradford, local lab tech, snow plough driver, and pretty much anything else he was needed for. He wasn’t a gossip. The other person she didn’t know.
Moving along the aisle, she found the feminine hygiene products, and then there they were—pregnancy tests. Grabbing the first one she came to, Blue also picked up a few other things she needed. She found the men’s deodorant where Bradford was standing.
“Hey, Blue.”
“Hi, Bradford.”
“How’s things with you?”
“Good. You?”
“Same.”
And that’s how they’d always conversed since first grade.
“The thing is, Blue, there used to be, like, one, maybe two selections of shampoo, and now look at this aisle. I ask you, why do I need green tea to have clean hair?”
“It tastes good, though, right?” Blue had the pregnancy test under the other things she’d picked up, and it felt like it was burning into her palm.
“Real good.”
“I’ll tell you what, Bradford. You pick out a deodorant for Finch, and I’ll pick your shampoo.”
“Deal,” he said without hesitation.
She found a brand her brothers used and handed that to him. He gave her the deodorant, and they were done.
“See you around, Bradford.”
“See you around, Blue.”
He was now checking out hair products, and she needed to get this done so she could breathe easier.
I am not pregnant.
The girl behind the counter didn’t acknowledge the pregnancy test, thankfully, and bagged it all up for Blue. Relieved, she walked out the door and straight into the hard wall of a chest. Hands gripped her shoulders, and she was eased back.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, her tongue suddenly feeling twice its normal size as she looked up at Jay. Why had she run into him, of all people, here today?
“Of course. Sorry about that.” She took a large step back and away from him. The bag she held made a crackling sound as her grip tightened on it.
He can’t see inside the bag, Blue. Relax.
“Blue, is something wrong? Because it doesn’t need to be weird between us. I thought after boys’ night, we—”
This isn’t you. You’re strong, and you never back away from a situation. Take charge.
“Not weird—ah, I’ve had a bug, and I’m just a bit off.” The words sounded lame, even to her ears. “We’re good, Jay, I promise.”
You’re not pregnant!