Chapter 30 #3
In his junior year, Logan had won a huge, national award for high schoolers for a green-home model he’d built with an inventive heating and cooling system.
In his senior year, he’d won first place in a national architectural contest for high school students by designing a modern farm, within a city, that was sustainable and helped build community, complete with solar panels, a greenhouse, vertical crops, small animals like goats and chickens, a fish farm, and walking trails.
The project addressed how this farm would thrive despite climate change.
His high grades, his SAT scores, his achievements in sports and leadership, his work at the hardware store and on their land had made him the perfect candidate: a hardworking, resilient, smart young man who had no money.
“Yes. I remember what school he’s going to, Drake.”
“This is an opportunity of a lifetime, and I won’t let my son indulge homesickness, or even think about coming home, because the dizzy, dumb daughter of a sloshy bartender from an insane, messed-up, law-breaking family has caught his eye.”
I felt like I was choking. I had known that Drake didn’t like me.
Our families had been warring for generations.
I thought it was ridiculous. So did Logan.
But Drake was an obsessed, troubled, violent man who enjoyed endless feuds and relentless fighting.
The “dizzy, dumb” insult was hurtful, but I wanted to hit him for what he’d said about my mother.
“My mother,” I said, “is Whiskey O’Donnell.
” I knew very well he knew who my mother was.
I knew how he’d tried to date her, and she’d rejected him.
But I was proud of her, and I would say her name and stand up for her.
“Lady Whiskey’s is her bar. It’s a successful business, and we employ many people we care about. ”
“It’s a dive bar. It’s a dirty, broken-down place for dirty, broken-down losers.”
“It is not. Lady Whiskey’s is where people go to talk and make friends and see friends and be a part of this community. It’s a place where people can laugh and have fun and have great food.”
“It’s a place for people like you.”
“Yes, it is. It’s not for people like you, that’s for sure. My mother banned you decades ago because you don’t treat people with respect, you’re a drunk, and you caused too many bar fights. Plus, you make my mother’s skin crawl.”
Something flashed in his eyes. Maybe a little embarrassment. My mother had turned him down many times. “I’ll spell this out, Bellini O’Donnell. You’re white trash. Your mother is white trash. Your family is white trash. My son can do better.”
“I am not white trash. My mother is not white trash. My family is not white trash.” My fury was rising to the explosion level. “No human being is white trash, Drake. How dare you say that? And what do you mean he ‘can do better’?”
“Better than you. You have a ridiculous name, as shameful as your mother’s, but that’s only where it starts.
You will go to college, you will probably drop out, maybe pregnant, and you will end up being a bartender like your loud, garish, offensive mother.
My son is going out East to a prestigious university.
He will meet and marry someone far better than you, from a better family, with better prospects. ”
“A better family? You are the one who recently got out of prison. Again. I heard there were a lot of watermelons and apples involved with your latest scuffle. You should have been in jail for far worse offenses. Starting with how you treated Laina and Logan. I believe that’s called assault.
Assaulting your own family members? Drinking yourself into oblivion? Now you’re better than other people?”
He went purple with rage. “I don’t want my son married to you, Bellini.”
“I don’t care what you want.”
“Oh, you should,” he spat out, stepping closer again to scare me.
I stood my ground, but I could smell his rancid breath.
“Here’s the thing, Bellini.” He crossed his arms over his huge chest, and his mean, reptilian eyes pinned me. “You see this land that Logan loves?”
“Yes.” I was breathing hard. It broke my heart to think of Logan living day in and day out with this man. How had Logan ended up so gentle? Laina.
“It’s hundreds of acres. It’s his. But there’s a caveat.”
“What’s that?”
“What’s a caveat?” He smirked at me. “Not too bright, are you?”
“I know what a caveat is, Drake. What is it in relation to Logan?”
“His mother’s land passed to me when she died. She didn’t have a will. I was, legally, her next of kin. But I do have a will. The land all goes to Logan.” He paused and smirked. “But not if he’s married to you.”
I felt like I’d been run over. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly serious. I hired an attorney. If Logan marries you, or lives with you—or any O’Donnell, for that matter—his mother’s land will be sold to a local builder who wants to build condos on it. He’s been offering to buy my land for years.”
“You would do that to your son?” I was shocked. My voice was the level of a whisper. “You would do that to Logan?”
For the second time, some deep emotion flickered in Drake’s eyes.
Maybe regret? Maybe guilt? “Yes. Because I can’t have my son married to an O’Donnell.
You think that sounds petty? Vengeful? It’s not.
Hamiltons have long-standing grievances against your family, and my land will not be in your hands.
Your family has lost my family our land rights and water rights, and your family has taken me and mine to court plenty of times.
I will not have you or your family owning, or living on, my land. ”
“But it isn’t your land. It was Laina’s. Our family never had problems with Laina or with her parents or grandparents.”
“You may not have had problems with Laina, but you have with us, the Hamiltons, and as the owner of this land now, it’s not gonna be yours, or his, if he marries or partners up with the likes of you.”
“But Laina would want it to go to Logan. He loves this land, Drake. He remembers his mother here. They made memories here that Logan treasures. He would not want condos built on this land.”
“I don’t care. I won’t have you on it, Bellini. Ever.”
“I am not Logan’s wife. We’re eighteen. We’re going to college.”
He looked me up and down as if I were vermin, and yet, there was a weird light in his eyes, something I didn’t trust. “Logan is serious about you. I get it. You and your mother have something…compelling about you. But neither one of you is worth marrying. I know what he’s thinking, and I am telling you, girl, back off.
Go to college. Break this relationship off so my son is not pining for you, although I think he’ll meet plenty of classy, sexy women right away, and he’ll forget about you.
End of September, you won’t be in his thoughts at all. ”
I felt a lightning bolt of pain hit my chest. I knew that could happen… I was scared it would. But I still encouraged him to go to that university because of the opportunity and the scholarship money it gave to him.
“Do not ruin my son. I will not have him marrying one of your kind. And don’t believe I wouldn’t sell this land, girl.
I will, and Logan will lose it forever. He’ll know why, too.
I’ll be honest with him. I’ll tell him that he can have you or the land.
Not both. Even if he chooses you, it’ll grate on him for the rest of his life, seeing condominiums, maybe a golf course.
He’ll feel the loss forever. It’ll kill him knowing he won’t have his mother’s land, the land her parents and grandparents owned, his legacy.
Eventually, one way or another, he’ll regret the decision he made to be with you over the land. You’ll lose.”
He’ll regret the decision he made to be with you over the land.
Those words tore through my soul and thrashed it. I could hardly breathe. Was it true? Could it be?
Logan stopped the tractor and climbed out. He ran over to me and Drake, a worried, intense expression on his face. He did not want me alone with his father, that was for sure.
My heart contracted. I loved Logan. More than my own life, I loved him.
I wanted him to be happy. I wanted what he wanted—I wanted him to be the most incredible person he could be—that’s why I’d helped him with his application to the college out East. And I wanted him to have his mother’s land. Laina would want him to have it, too.
“Hey,” Logan said, looking back and forth from me to his dad. He was suspicious, the anger he always felt for his father simmering. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is great, son.” His father clapped him on the back and smiled. “Isn’t that right, Bellini?”
“Yes, everything is fine.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. He knew something was up. “What did you say, Dad?”
“I told Bellini I hope she enjoys college.”
I was suffocating. Drowning.
The land or me. That was the final equation.
I broke up with Logan a few days before we left for college—me for the university south of us with two of my cousins and many of our friends, and him for the East Coast.
With Drake’s words echoing in my head like a pinball machine that caused endless pain, I asked Logan to meet me at the top of what we called The Hill.
We met there often to talk and laugh and…
well, kiss and other things. The Hill has a panoramic view of the town, the Rocky and Swan Mountains, sunsets and sunrises, valleys and meadows, and trees that run on forever.
We can also see Logan’s land from there, which reminded me why I was doing what I was doing.
I was working at the bar and he at the hardware store, so we met at about seven thirty.
“Hey, babe,” he called out when he arrived.
I tried not to start crying, but it was pointless.
“What is it?” He ran toward me, wrapping his arms around me. “Bellini, tell me. Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”
I shook my head as he held me, then I stepped away.
He tried to hug me again, but I put up my hands. Oh, how I hated his father.
“Logan,” I said.
Then I broke his heart, and I broke mine.
Both shattered instantly. I told him that since we were going to be far away from each other, we needed to see other people.
I babbled on—I can hardly remember what I said through my tears—then I babbled some more until I could no longer speak.
All I could see was Logan’s shocked face, then his hurt, then anger, and back to hurt.
He whipped around and stalked about ten steps away from me, stood there, then turned back and said, incredulity running through every word, “Are you serious, Bellini?”
“Yes, I am.”
“What are you talking about? Why would we break up? We can call. We can email… We can still talk.”
“No, we can’t. You’ll be on the other side of the country. I’ll be here in Montana…”
“Bellini, we can do this. What is going on? What happened? I don’t understand this at all… What the hell?”
I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t even look at him. I was betraying him. I was lying to him. I was wildly, head over heels in love with him, and yet, I knew Drake, his vindictiveness and vengeful personality, and I knew what he would do to Logan if I didn’t break up with him.
“Oh my God. Are you pregnant?” He hurried back toward me. “Look, Bellini, if you are, we’ll have the baby. We’ll get married. We didn’t plan on kids this early, I know, but we can do it—”
“I’m not pregnant.”
He was utterly, completely confused, lost, struggling. “Bellini, come on. I love you. You love me. You’ve told me that a hundred times… What’s going on?”
We went back and forth, an endless arguing, crying circle, and finally I ran for my truck. Logan told me to wait, to talk to him, but I didn’t. What could I say? I went to bed for two days and didn’t take his calls or read his emails or let him in the house.
On the third day, Logan came over again, before we both left for school, and we talked outside my house.
He was pale and drawn. I was the same, utterly miserable, but I was resolute.
I didn’t change my mind. I told him we were going to be too far away, that we should see other people.
I hadn’t eaten, I felt sick, and I was having an anxiety attack and could hardly breathe. We were both devastated.
“I love you, Bellini. I don’t know why you’re doing this.”
“I love you, too,” I said. It was out before I could stop it.
“Then why? For God’s sake, why? Did my dad say something to you? Bellini, I promise you I will protect you from my dad. I will make sure you never see him again. Ever. You don’t owe him anything at all. You have to tell me. Did my dad say something that made you break up with me?”
“It’s not that. It’s not him.” Oh, the lies I told that day. “We need to have our own space. We need to…date others…figure out who we are… I don’t want to hold you back…”
“What?” He shook his head. “We already know who we are. We’re Bellini and Logan. We’ve never held each other back…”
“And we won’t in the future either. We’ve been together for years.
We need to be our own people. You said it— ‘we’re Bellini and Logan’—but you need to be Logan, by yourself, and I need to be Bellini by myself.
I need to figure out who I am without you.
” This was totally untrue. We had been best friends since kindergarten.
We had been together as a couple for years.
But I knew who I was by myself, and so did Logan.
We had separate interests, we had different friends, we always encouraged the other in sports or debates or whatever other activity we participated in. “Bye, Logan. Please, go.”
I ran into the house. He didn’t follow because he’s not aggressive and rude like that. He wouldn’t want to scare me.
People say that teenagers can’t be “in love,” that they’re “too young,” or they’re “in lust, their hormones raging.”
That is false. Always has been.
I thought I was going to die. I thought dying might be easier. But I knew my decision was right. I couldn’t be the reason that Logan lost his land. We could make a clean break. He would meet someone else, marry her, and keep the memories of his mother close.
Logan emailed me about a week after we were both in school. I didn’t answer. He tried calling a few times, sent another email. He flew home on a break, came to see me. I wouldn’t see him…and then he gave up.
In his final voicemail, he said, “I love you, Bellini. I always will. I want what’s best for you. I want you to have a happy life, and I hope everything is going well for you. I’m not going to email or call you again, because it’s not right, but if you ever want to talk, call me.”
And that was that. It was hard to live through a thing like that.
A ferocious pain lodged in the depths of my soul that never went away. It stayed there until I came home and saw Logan again.