The Sugar Queen by Tess Thompson

9

Brandi

Trapperand I lay entangled in blankets at my place, breathless and damp. “Thanks for letting me come up.” He kissed my neck. “I’m sorry I attacked you instead of giving you a proper tour.”

“I’m not.” I snuggled closer to him. “We can have a nap before we head out to your place.” The late-afternoon light sneaked between the curtains in my bedroom. “Anyway, you saw it all. There’s only two rooms.”

My one-bedroom apartment above my bakery was seven hundred square feet. Inspired by a painting of daisies, I’d decorated it in whites and yellows. The four-poster bed was a find from a used furniture store in Louisville. Dad had refinished it using a honey-colored stain. The elevated height meant I had to use a child’s footstool to get into bed, but I loved it anyway. This bed was my sanctuary.

Sometimes at night I’d listen to the sounds of the walls and ceiling creaking, and I’d think of all the lives that had passed through this building.

“Do you remember how much fun we used to have down at the river?” Trapper asked as he traced his fingers down my arm. “A little country music on the stereo and contraband beer?”

I smiled. “Remember how I had to sneak in and out of my bedroom window?”

We’d had countless days by the river back then with Breck and Huck and whoever else wanted to join us. Whenever we could, during warm summer days, we’d all meet at the river. We’d draped our bodies over the hot rocks that jutted out of the water until we were hot enough to jump in for a swim, then repeat the whole cycle. At night, when we could get away with it, the gang had gathered around a campfire in the sandy area. “What did we find to talk about all night back then?”

“Probably mostly nonsense,” Trapper said.

“Breck always liked some girl who didn’t like him.”

Trapper groaned. “He kept falling for mean girls who were not interested in a guy with the softest heart in the world.”

“He was way too nice.”

“Why don’t girls like nice guys?” Trapper asked.

“We do. Just not in high school,” I said. “Except for you and me. You were always nice, and I loved you more than anything.”

“When we were apart, I used to search my brain for the memory of how we started dating. All I could remember is always being together.”

“Mr. Finley asked if you’d tutor me in geometry during the beginning of sophomore year. He said anyone who could toss a puck around the ice in the exact direction he wanted must be good at geometry. You started coming over on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We’d sit at the kitchen table studying and playing footsie.”

“I remember now,” he said. “I used to stare at you as you worked through a problem and feel like I was going to die if I never had the chance to kiss you.”

“My mother was having none of that,” I said. “She had eagle eyes, too.”

He shuddered. “Yes, she did. From what I could see yesterday, she still does.”

“I don’t care what she thinks.” I didn’t. She’d done enough to control my life.

He caught hold of my waist and hauled me on top of him. My hair spilled over and onto his chest as I looked into his brown eyes. “Are you really here or have I slipped into insanity?”

“I’m here.”

“You’re beautiful. God help me, I can’t keep my hands off you.” He rolled us over so that he was on top of me. Instinctually, my legs wrapped around his waist.

“Trapper, we need to talk about something.”

His phone buzzed from the bedside table. He groaned. “Damn, it’s the insurance people. Can it wait just a moment?”

“Yes, yes. You have to take that.”

I sighed as he rolled off me to answer his phone. The old demons snatched and clawed at me, whispering in their insidious voices. You’re not enough. You’re a liar. Tell him.

After Trapper left,I put in a load of laundry and ran the vacuum, even though I was tired. A knock on the door surprised me. I didn’t often have guests.

My dad stood on the cement steps with his hands in his pockets. Sunlight highlighted the strands of silver in his hair.

“Dad, is everything all right?” He rarely visited.

“Yes, I wanted to come by and see you.”

“Come on up. You want tea or coffee?”

“No, thank you. I just had a few things to talk with you about.” He followed me up the stairs. When we reached my living room, he went to the window and stood there with his hands still in his pockets and his shoulders hunched.

“Something’s wrong. What is it?” I asked.

“Your mother sent me. She wanted me to talk to you about Trapper.”

I sank onto the couch. “Okay.”

“How serious is this getting?”

“He wants it to be serious,” I said.

“And you?”

“I want more than anything to be with him. But I know that once he finds out I’ve lied to him about something so important, it’ll be over.”

“We assumed you hadn’t told him.”

“I would’ve let you know if I had.” I fiddled with the necklace I wore around my neck. “It’s our secret, after all.” This came out bitter, as dry as a winter leaf.

“We did the right thing back then.”

“Did we? Or did we do the thing that brought Mom less shame?”

“You were a child. A scared kid. Your mother’s decision was the right one.”

“I think about the kind of people Fenton and Rose are, and I can’t understand why we didn’t just tell them the truth.”

“What difference would it have made? She died.”

I flinched as though he’d smacked me.

“Honey, I’m sorry. Your mother feels that you and Trapper getting back together resurrected a lot of problems. You’ve been fragile all these years. Do you think bringing up all this old trauma is the best thing for you?”

I scooted into the corner of the couch and brought my knees to my chest. “I love him, Dad.”

“And when he finds out what you kept from him, everything’s going to blow up. I’m worried you’re not strong enough to deal with the repercussions. I can’t watch you have your heart broken again.” He paced by the window. “Why couldn’t you just stay away from him?”

“Because this is Trapper and me, Dad. We’re like two magnets. Nothing’s changed between us.”

“Other than you kept a secret from him ten years ago.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” My voice raised an octave. “I’m on borrowed time. I missed him so much, and I had the chance for a few more days. I can’t seem to let go. I know I need to tell him, but the words won’t come.”

Dad sat next to me on the couch and spoke to me as if I were still ten years old. “You have to find a way, honey. It’s not fair to either of you to carry on as if you’re still carefree teenagers. Isn’t that what got you into this mess in the first place?”

I buried my face in my knees as the tears came.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re my little girl, and I’m worried about you.”

“Please leave.” I didn’t look up, listening to his footsteps cross the creaky floor and go down the stairs.

An hourafter my father’s visit, I pulled out Lizzie’s letters. There was one in particular I wanted to read, dated in 1915.

Dearest Mummy,

I’m sorry it’s been such a while since you’ve heard from me. I was unable to find the strength to write until now. The baby due last month did not survive. If it hadn’t been for Dr. Neal’s skills, I would not have survived either. There was a problem during birth and by the time they got him out, he wasn’t breathing. I’d lost a great deal of blood, but the doctor was able to patch up the problem and saved my life.

Since then, I’ve been focused on grieving and taking care of Florence. Quinn and Merry have been a great comfort to me, although I can see the guilt in their eyes. Their second babies were born without complications. Both Jack and Delphia are thriving. I couldn’t possibly resent them simply because they were fortunate enough to have a second child. Instead, I’m glad they don’t have to experience the anguish of losing a child.

Jasper has been stoic through it all and so very kind to me. He won’t say much to me about his grief. I think he believes it will cause me more pain if he confesses to his. Men always think they have to protect us, even when it might help me to grieve with him. However, I witnessed him and Lord Barnes in the garden the other day. They sat on a bench that overlooks the field of wildflowers. Jasper slumped over his knees. From the window I could see how his shoulders heaved from sobbing. Lord Barnes patted his back and let him cry. I suppose it’s all we can do when a friend is grieving. Be there for them and do not offer words but merely comfort.

We named him Joseph Edward Strom, after Father. We buried our little boy on the piece of land that Lord Barnes deemed for our town cemetery. After the burial, I sent everyone away, even Jasper and Quinn, so that I might have a moment to weep for my boy. I fell to my knees and cried unashamed, knowing God was there to catch my tears. After a few minutes, the song of a bird filled the air. I rose up, searching for the source of the sweet sound. A small sparrow perched on the branch of a pine. When I lifted my damp face to him, he sang louder. I knew, Mummy, it was a message from my little boy. He sings with the angels now. I felt great peace. Someday I’ll meet him in heaven. For now, I have my Florence and Jasper and the Barneses and Depauls, more like family than employers or neighbors.

A month has passed since then, and I’ve finally been able to write these words to you. In my darkest moments, I thought of what it felt like to be in your warm embrace when I was a child. I’ve lain awake nights remembering all the ways you cared for and loved me. Even though we’re far away, I remember it all, Mummy. The memories of my childhood give me such joy and peace. I hope someday they will do the same for Florence. Until I was a mother myself, I didn’t know exactly how much you loved me or how painful it must have been when I left for America.

Jasper and I have talked. We have more than enough for your fare if you’d come. You can live with us in your retirement and see Florence grow up. Please, think about it. Much love, Lizzie

I set the letter aside and stared out the window, thinking about Lizzie and her little boy. In all the ways the world was different, some things never changed, including grief.

My mother’s voice called up the stairs, bringing me back to the present. “Brandi, are you there?”

“Yes.” I closed my eyes for a moment to gather strength. “Come on up.” A visit from both my parents in one day was never a good sign of things to come.

I gathered up the scattering of letters on the coffee table and put them back in the box. It was almost five. I was supposed to leave for Trapper’s in a few minutes.

Mom appeared at the top of the stairs. “Why are you dressed up?”

I glanced down at my dress, a white halter with a flared skirt that I thought showed off my shoulders, and strappy sandals. I’d put my hair up in a messy bun at the nape of my neck. Wide hoop earrings completed the outfit. It had been longer than I could remember since I’d paid this much attention to my appearance. It felt good. I pushed aside the thought that it might be the last time.

“I’m going out to Trapper’s for dinner.”

“Isn’t he too busy saving the town to make you dinner?”

“Mom, don’t be like that. The Barnes family is completely generous. Why can’t you cut them some slack?”

“Because it bugs me how everyone bows down to them in this town.”

“Why’re you here?” I clenched my stomach muscles, ready for a fight.

“I talked to your father. He obviously made no progress with you.”

“His point was well taken,” I said. “I know I have to tell him the truth. I’m going to.”

“How he reacts will tell you everything you need to know,” Mom said.

I didn’t respond, taking the hatbox to the closet instead.

“Are you really picking up with him where you left off?” she asked.

I turned to look at her. “Why do you care?”

“He’s not right for you. And he ruined your life.”

“He didn’t make me pregnant all by himself,” I said.

“Oh, I remember how it is to be a teenager. If I’d held back instead of giving in to my immediate desires, things would’ve been a lot different.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that when you say things like that, it’s hurtful to me? You’re basically saying that if you could, you’d erase me.”

The muscles in her face twitched, as if she’d bitten into foul meat. “Brandi, not everything’s about you.”

“I know that. But this is. I wrecked your life—all your plans. You’ve said it over and over.”

“It’s not so simple. I can love you and still have regrets about my life. They’re not the same.”

“How come you didn’t have an abortion?” I asked.

She froze. The blood rushed between my ears, keeping time with the beating of my heart. There were one, two, three, four, five thumps before she spoke. “My mother and father wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t go against them.”

“Would you have done it if they’d not stood in your way?”

“You can’t think of it that way. It’s not what happened. I had you. There’s no good in thinking about different scenarios and what I would or wouldn’t have done. Your father stepped up and married me even though we were both children. He brought me here to this place he loved so much. That was his only request. Could we go home where he had family? I guess I had the last laugh on my mother. Once we moved out here, we barely saw them.”

“The last laugh. Because they made you have me. See, there it is again.”

“Brandi, honestly. Don’t twist my words. Life went a certain direction for me. Do I wish I could’ve gone to college and had a career? Yes. But that’s not mutually exclusive from how I feel about you.” She gestured toward the closet where I’d just put away Lizzie’s hatbox. “I’ve always felt like an outsider here. Like I was some kind of desperate mail-order bride sent out west.”

“Did you know Lizzie lost a baby too?”

“Which one’s Lizzie?”

“Never mind.” I collapsed into the easy chair and hugged a throw pillow to my chest.

Still holding her purse, Mom walked over to the bank of windows that looked out to Puck’s and the southern slope. “If you get back with Trapper, he’ll leave you one day. You’ll see. He’s interested in rekindling something with you out of nostalgia. Once it comes down to day-to-day living, he’s going to see how unsuited you two are.”

“What’s unsuited about us?”

“He’s wealthy and famous and is friends with rich actors and athletes. Someday he’ll inherit half this town. Do you really think he’s going to stay interested in you?”

I crossed my arms over my stomach and rubbed my elbows with my fingers. I would not cry in front of her and allow her to see how weak I still was, how her opinion of me still hurt. I clenched my teeth and turned myself to stone. She was right. Why would someone like Trapper Barnes pick me? I didn’t fit with him. In high school it had been all right because I was pretty and a cheerleader. Now, in this grown-up world, it was obvious that we no longer belonged together. I was uneducated and unsophisticated, and always had a dusting of flour on my hands. My mother was right. We didn’t fit.

And there was the baby. The truth that would send him away forever.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you,” Mom said. “I want to protect you.”

“Why didn’t you get me tested for learning disabilities when I was a kid?”

She went rigid, then clutched at her throat with her fingertips. “Why would I?”

“I’m dyslexic.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am. I had myself tested. That’s why reading was so hard for me. It’s not that I’m dumb.”

She pulled her purse against her chest and looked at me with slightly bulging eyes. “When did you get tested?”

“A few years after high school. Crystal suggested it. Do you know what a relief it was to learn that I have a legitimate problem? If you hadn’t been so prideful, so sure it was just laziness on my part, my whole experience at school could’ve been different.”

“Different how?”

“Like I wouldn’t have thought I was stupid. I wouldn’t have had to ask Trapper for help all the time. Doing so made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for him. I already knew I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Are you saying that if you’d had better self-esteem you wouldn’t have gotten pregnant?”

I groaned in frustration. “No. You’re missing the point. If I’d had help when I needed it, I would’ve done better in school, which could have changed the trajectory of my life.”

“I thought you loved running the bakery.” She elongated the word love. “Haven’t you and your father shoved that in my face enough times?”

“I do love my bakery. Maybe I would’ve chosen to do exactly what I’m doing. But knowing that I wasn’t dumb would’ve helped me feel a little better about myself.”

“I’m the bad guy? Isn’t that convenient?”

“You’re not bad. It’s just that you wanted me to be like you, and I’m not. It was always about achievement, but I couldn’t keep up, Mom. You could never see me as I was. Having me tested would’ve proved to you that I was flawed. You can never tolerate any weakness.”

“That’s not true. I wanted more for you than I had, and you turned around and did the exact same thing I did.”

“Only we didn’t give Trapper a chance to step up like Dad did.”

“What if we had? It wouldn’t have made any difference in the end. The baby died.”

A dart of pain shot through me. “At least I wouldn’t have lied to him. Now there’s no hope for us to ever be together. He’ll never forgive me.”

“You loved him when you were seventeen years old,” Mom said. “It was a lifetime ago. Don’t you see that? This is some fantasy you two have cooked up in your heads. In the end, you’ll see. Neither of you is the same person you were back then.”

“Did you not love Dad after ten years? Is that what this is about?”

“I was in lust with him when we were young. But were we suited? Not really. He’s just a boy from a small town with no ambition. I wanted more. Is that so wrong?”

“What’re you saying?” I whispered.

“I’m saying that you’ll see, later, that this thing between you and Trapper is just a passing fancy, an attempt to hold on to your youth. He’s not the boy you remember.”

“I think he is, Mom. It feels the same between us. I wasn’t wrong about him then, and I’m not now. He’s the great love of my life. Not that it matters. Once he knows what we kept from him, he won’t want anything to do with me.”

“I know you blame me for keeping it from Trapper and think I ruined things for you.”

“I blame myself. I should’ve stood up to you. He deserved to know. He deserved a chance to step up.”

“So that you could both be miserable in this godforsaken town?” she asked.

“Like you?”

She hurled her purse across the room and shouted, “Yes, like me.”

The purse hit the wall and fell to the floor. A lipstick rolled across the hardwood and stopped just before the stairs.

“You could go, Mom,” I said softly. “Go find that life you think you’re missing. If you’re really so unhappy with Dad.”

She smoothed her blouse with her hands and spoke in a clipped, fatalistic tone. “I’m trapped here. You know it as well as I.”

“You’re only forty-five,” I said. “There’s a lot of your life left. At least one of us in this family should be happy.”

She sighed and crossed over to her purse. “I should go now. I’ve errands to run. You know your father. He likes his family’s recipe of chicken stew on Tuesdays. Always the same, day after day.” She knelt to gather her purse, then reached for the wayward lipstick at the head of the stairs. Before she headed down, she turned back to me. “No matter what you think, your sadness did not kill that baby. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

She didn’t stay to hear my answer, but I said it to the empty room anyway. “I’m not sure that’s true, but we’ll never know.”