Chapter 40 #3
I don’t know who the young woman at the wheel of the getaway car is, but she looks scared out of her mind as the men march the two of them back up to the house and sit them down in our recently vacated chairs at the outdoor table.
Eileen looks half thrilled, but I imagine that has more to do with Tad, the object of weekly articles for as long as I’ve been reading the Red Bridge paper, holding her tightly by both arms along the way.
I understand her crush, obviously. I, myself, am currently impregnated by him.
“All right, Eileen,” Josie says, pointing an index finger directly in her face. “It’s time to put up or shut up! How in the actual hell did you know I was pregnant?”
“And me!” I interject.
“Yes, and Breezy,” Josie continues, “before we announced it! It’s a violation of privacy! An invasion! And just plain fucking wrong!”
“Fu-ck!” Autumn yells, making Norah sigh. All of us have been horrible influences on our sweet toddler girl lately, but not even Norah dares to interrupt her sister to chastise her for language right now.
Tears are in Josie’s eyes, and she’s genuinely upset. With everything she’s been through—with her history with pregnancy and loss—this isn’t the cute little spoiler story Eileen seems to think it is.
Not to mention, this is so far from the first time Eileen’s written an inappropriate article about a member of our family, it’s not even funny.
From following Bennett and Norah’s every move while they were dealing with Norah’s ex, to invasive pieces into Josie and Clay’s history and heartache, to weekly fluff articles on Tad, and declarations of a threesome for me, Eileen’s been pushing this group toward a hostile response for a long time.
“I want to know how you knew, and I want to know right now!” Josie demands. Clay holds her arms gently at her sides, but I have a sneaking suspicion that if he weren’t, Josie would have one of Norah’s butter knives to Eileen’s slender throat.
“I’ll never reveal my sources!” the crazy woman declares, somewhat unwisely.
“That’s it. Someone’d better call Pete and tell him this murder I’m about to commit is one hundred percent premeditated!” Josie screams, her body thrashing in Clay’s hold so much, Tad steps closer to back him up.
“We went through your trash!” the accomplice admits, the pressure too much to bear as the volume of the entire group escalates. “I’m so sorry, and I didn’t think it was a good idea, but Aunt Eileen insisted!”
“Aunt Eileen?” Josie questions.
“Dammit, Millie!” Eileen screeches.
“I’m sorry,” Millie cries. “But I’m not cut out for this kind of journalism!”
“Yeah,” Josie says sarcastically. “Theft, breaking and entering, spying in the bushes—it’s not for everyone!”
“Oh, piss off, Josie,” Eileen grumbles. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Doing your job? Doing your job! You know, Eileen. You, of all people, with your nosy-ass tactics and years of hit pieces, you know what Clay and I have been through. What a big deal it is to be pregnant. And yet, you found it appropriate to spoil it for us in this way? How do I know this weekend’s paper isn’t going to publish my due date?
For Pete’s sake, Eileen, I’m not even out of my first trimester yet! ”
“Neither am I,” I add, a newfound panic at the idea that a pregnancy I never even knew I wanted isn’t guaranteed. Tad rounds the table toward me, his voice kind but commanding as he takes control in a way I’ve never experienced before.
“All right, guys. I think that’s enough for tonight,” he announces. “Eileen, take this as a warning that if you pull this shit again, the response won’t be nearly as friendly. You know I love and respect your hustle for reporting the news in a town that doesn’t make much—but this is too far.”
Eileen nods, a sadness I don’t expect creeping in at the castigation from a man she admires. “I, well…I’m not sorry.”
“Eileen!” Tad snaps, and she holds up her hands defensively.
“But! I can see where you’re coming from, and out of deference to you, Tad, I promise to take a break from reporting on the Ellis, Bishop, Hanson family circle for a little while. I’ve got a few other leads that are getting hot anyway.”
“Great,” Tad says, sarcasm tainting the positive right out of the word.
Reaching for my hand, he pulls it to his chest and clutches it there subconsciously as he says the rest of our goodbyes before Josie can fly off the handle again.
Clay’s holding her back ten feet away, but the best analogy I can give is like a jockey holding back a racehorse in the starting gate.
Tonight may be over for us, but I won’t be surprised if Josie and Eileen go a few more rounds before it’s truly done.
“Norah, thanks for the invite and for the little bit of food we managed before all hell broke loose, but it’s time for us to call it quits. I want to get Breezy home.”
As Tad turns to lead us back across the lawn while the rest of the group is left to take care of their own shit on their own time with their own minds, a relief washes over me. I’ve never had someone willing and capable of handling things for me. Never.
Beyond that, I’ve never not been responsible for handling other people too.
But with Tad at my side, I don’t have to be in charge.
It feels so good, I don’t know if I can ever go back.