Rebecca’s Cove

Chapter 14

Hobie knocked on the door for the third time. “That’s it. She’s done something horrible to him, I just know it.”

She heard loud music coming from the front of the house where the living room was. A quick turn of the front doorknob showed that it was unlocked. She thought twice about entering but gave up feeling bad when she thought about what was going on inside. “She’s probably got the stereo on and no idea where Noah is at!”

Walking into the living room, she saw an amazing sight. Baylor and Noah were in the middle of the room, Noah on the coffee table and Baylor on the floor beside him. They wore black Ray-Ban sunglasses and they were dancing. Well, it was very nearly dancing. Noah was trying to imitate Baylor’s moves. Baylor, though hampered by her cast, did a very good job. As if on cue, near the end of the Sam Cooke song, Noah and Baylor went into a fair version of the Jerk.

The two were laughing and singing, leaving a stunned Hobie unable to believe her eyes. Of course, there was something about watching Baylor swinging her hips in perfect time to the song that affected Hobie in a direct manner.

The song ended and Hobie couldn’t resist. She applauded. Baylor turned quickly, and although Hobie couldn’t see her eyes, she could see her cheeks turn pink in embarrassment.

Hobie couldn’t seem to remove the grin from her face, which caused Baylor’s blush to deepen. “You two are good, but it’s time to go home, Noah. No more dancing today.”

“But, Mom, it’s Motown!” Noah looked at Hobie through his borrowed sunglasses, his hands on his hips.

Just as Hobie arched an eyebrow, Baylor scooped Noah off the table. She tucked the giggling boy under her arm and he hung there like a sack of potatoes.

“I have no idea where he learned that,” she said in an attempt to appear casual.

“I’m sure,” Hobie said. “Don’t you think you might be hurting him like that?”

“Am I hurting you, Bubba?”

Noah giggled and lifted his head. “Nope.” He swung his legs back and forth.

“Where in the world did you get ‘Bubba’ from? You know, he might prefer his name.” Hobie didn’t understand why she was being so petty, but Baylor seemed to draw out every small-minded comment that she had in her.

Baylor looked down. “Is it okay if I call you Bubba, Noah?” Noah laughed again as if he was having the time of his life.

He pushed his glasses up and held out a thumbs-up sign.

“See, he’s cool with it. So the question is, what’s really bugging you, Hobie?”

“Let him go, please.”

Baylor shrugged and released the youngster. Noah rushed over to his mother and she hugged him tightly. Baylor watched as Hobie’s demeanor instantly changed. She always seemed to light up whenever Noah was near.

“Sweetheart, would you please take Arturo and go play in the backyard for a little bit, so I can talk to Baylor?”

“’Kay,” Noah replied. As an afterthought, he turned back to his mother and tugged on her jeans. “You’re not gonna yell at her, are ya, Mom?”

Hobie dropped to one knee and pulled the Cubs hat from her head. She gently placed it atop Noah’s head, a special treat. “No, sweetie, I’m not going to yell.”

“Good, ’cause I had such a good time with her.”

“I’m glad. Go on, you, and don’t wander out of the backyard.”

The two women stared at each other as they heard the kitchen door close. They listened to the sounds of Noah’s laughter and Arturo’s barking.

“So do you still want to know what’s bugging me?” Hobie asked in a quiet voice.

Baylor felt a rising sense of panic, but she tried to appear nonchalant and nodded.

Hobie lowered her head and ran a hand through her hair. There was a long pause. “I’m so sorry! I had no business saying those things about you or your writing!” she blurted out. “I’m just so sorry. Please, I feel—” She raised her head, tears streaming down her face. “I’m just so sorry” was all she could get out.

“No,” Baylor said as she waved her hands. “No, no, no. You agreed. You said you wouldn’t cry anymore.”

“I lied.” Hobie sobbed out the words in exasperation.

She sank onto the couch and reached for a tissue from a nearby box. Hobie watched as Baylor stood rooted in place. She was confused until she remembered: this was Baylor’s weakness. Hobie didn’t want Baylor caving in over her tears, but the fact that she couldn’t stop crying made her cry all the harder.

“I’m such a bitch. I’m so sorry,” she cried.

“It’s okay, really. I think it was all my fault anyway.” Baylor finally propelled herself into action. “Come on,” she practically whined. She sat on the sofa beside Hobie. “It’s not your fault, not at all. I’m a much bigger bitch than you, just ask anyone.”

“Oh, stop it!” Hobie slapped Baylor’s arm. “What?”

“You’re only apologizing because I’m crying.” “How do you know that?”

“Because it happened last time. You turn into a tower of quivering jelly when women cry, don’t you?”

“Up until now I never did, thank you very much. How do you do that and why are you doing it to me?”

“Because I...” Hobie tossed her used tissue onto the floor in confusion and anger. “Because I like you. All right, are you happy now?”

Baylor smiled without knowing why. She supposed it was because of the ridiculousness of the whole situation. For some reason, her anxiety disappeared and she heard her grandmother’s voice in her ear saying something about taking risks.

Baylor swallowed hard and moved in closer to the tearful Hobie. She felt awkward and unsure of herself. Sure, she had put moves on more women than she could remember, but it was different when it mattered, and this mattered. She put an arm around Hobie’s shoulder, and Hobie’s head seemed to gravitate toward Baylor’s shoulder.

“Shh, come on now. You don’t have to cry. It’s okay. You know, I may not be the smartest gal in the world, but I’m not sure this is how it works.”

“What do you mean?” Hobie’s voice came out sounding small and fragile. Baylor noticed that her tears had slowed.

“I’m thinking that maybe you better start liking me a little less, or else one of us is going to have a breakdown.”

Hobie chuckled and wiped her eyes with a clean tissue. She sat back up and blew her nose. Baylor handed over the box of tissues, and when Hobie had dried her eyes some more, she brushed the hair from Hobie’s eyes.

“Baylor, I didn’t mean to betray you. I’m so sorry I told everyone about your books. I wouldn’t blame you if you never trusted me again. I have no excuse or rationalization to defend what I did. It was…damn, this is so hard to admit, but it was just because I was angry and my anger made me, I don’t know, lose sight of everything. Lose control.”

“I understand better than you think, and it’s okay.” Baylor gave Hobie’s shoulder a small squeeze.

“No, it’s not okay.”

“Really, it is.” Baylor tried to find the words to explain. “I talked to my grandmother last week, right after our little to-do. I admit, I was plenty pissed, but being angry isn’t all that unusual for me. This isn’t going to come as any great shock to you, I’m sure, but a lot of my anger is what has made me a rather disagreeable person to be around at times. It’s like, subconsciously, I have to lash out and humiliate people before they do it to me.”

“Why? Do you mind me asking?”

“No, actually, you’re the first person I’ve ever talked to about this, apart from Tanti. I’m no psychiatrist, but for me, it’s fear.”

“Fear? What does someone like you have to be afraid of?”

“The man standing behind me,” Baylor said.

Hobie immediately looked past Baylor and furrowed her brow. “Is he there now?” she asked suspiciously.

“He always seems to be there.” “Do you see him right now?”

Baylor looked at Hobie strangely. “Do I see… Oh! No, I don’t mean like that. It’s not like I see three-foot hamsters or anything.”

“Oh, good.” Hobie breathed an audible sigh of relief. “For a minute there, I thought—”

“That Ana Lia had finally gotten to me, eh?” Baylor laughed aloud.

“Sorry,” Hobie said with a sheepish grin. “So what exactly do you mean when you say there’s a man behind you?”

“He’s been there all my adult life, whispering in my ear. He tells me things like I’ll never be good enough or talented enough. Things like how I’ll only get hurt if I try, so it’s better not to try at all.” Baylor fixed a defeated smirk on her face. “He’s my father, and he’s been standing there as long as I can remember.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” Hobie straightened up to look into BJ’s face.

Baylor shrugged. “Funny thing, until I talked with Tanti the other day, I didn’t even know it was him. All this time and I never knew that the harder I tried to prove my father was wrong about me, the more like him I became.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know if I can ever get rid of him. He was a big part of my life, and even though it was mostly bad, I don’t think you can just rid yourself of some memories. Now that I recognize who he is and what he’s doing to my life, I have a choice. He may always be standing there, whispering away, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen.”

“Well, BJ—”

“It’s Baylor,” Baylor said, softening her voice. “My name is Baylor.” She smiled.

“I think you’ll be able to do it, Baylor.” “Thanks. I hope you’re right. Hey, feel better?”

“No, but at least I’m not crying like a maniac. I get started and I can’t stop. It’s very embarrassing. I’m really very sorry.”

“Careful, those are the words that got all this started, remember? How about something cool to drink, a glass of water or iced tea?”

“Water would be great, thanks. I can help,” Hobie said as she saw Baylor rise from the couch and head for the kitchen.

Baylor turned around to answer and stopped abruptly. Hobie lay crumpled on the floor. “Oh, that can’t be good,” Baylor said more to herself than to the unconscious woman.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Baylor said from her perch on the sofa.

Hobie tried to sit up. “Oh, God, is Noah still outside?” Baylor laid a restraining hand against Hobie’s shoulder. “It’s okay, it’s okay. He came in and I told him that you were so tired you had to take a quick nap. He seemed to buy it.”

“Thanks.” Hobie lay back down. “I still think he’s a little too young to understand why Mom passes out occasionally.” She tried to rise once more.

“Take it easy. I don’t want you going down for the count again. What’s your brother ask you all the time, ‘When was the last time you ate?’”

“Damn!” Hobie rubbed her face. “Could this day possibly get any more embarrassing?”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Do you have any cheese or maybe a glass of milk?”

“Yep, you’re in luck. I’ve got both, but I thought you’d need sugar to get going again.”

“That’s a diabetic. Contrary to the diabetic who needs glucose when her blood sugar is low, a hypoglycemic needs protein,” Hobie said. “If I ate something sweet, my blood sugar would rise, but then it would just bottom out again within two hours because I produce too much insulin.”

Baylor rose from the sofa and headed toward the kitchen. She turned back and pointed at Hobie. “Stay. That’s an order.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Hobie said with a weak smile.

Some time later, Hobie felt like her old self. A humiliated, thoroughly embarrassed version of her old self. She and Baylor made light conversation, mostly about how Baylor had spent the day with Noah.

“Um, can I ask a question without you going ballistic?” Hobie chuckled. “I seriously doubt it, but give it your best shot.” Both women smiled.

“Well, and I don’t mean to be preaching or anything, but I find it extremely odd that, as a physician, you let this happen to yourself so much.”

“I know, and you don’t sound preachy. In fact, you sound a lot like Mack and my mom. The funny thing is, you’re all right. I should and there’s no excuse for it. I just have such a goofy personality.” Hobie arched an eyebrow at Baylor. “Not a word.”

Baylor smiled and held her hands up in a gesture of mock surrender.

“What I mean is I have such an all-or-nothing personality. I just get so focused on things that I can’t seem to remember to make time to eat, even when I know I’ll pay the price.”

“Aren’t you afraid that you’ll do it when you’re around Noah?”

“That’s funny, too. When I’m around Noah, I never seem to have that problem. It’s weird, I know. It’s as if he keeps me grounded in some way. I know, it’s all too strange, isn’t it?”

“No. Actually, it makes sense in a jumbled-up sort of way,” Baylor said with an understanding smile. “Is there any medicine you can take? I’m assuming that it’s low blood sugar.”

“Hypoglycemia, yeah. The losing consciousness is called insulin shock. My hypoglycemia occurs as an idiopathic condition—” Hobie abruptly stopped after seeing Baylor’s confusion. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go into medical speak on you. That just means that it happens without a known cause. Once, when I was a teenager, I was unconscious for a number of hours until they gave me an injection of glucose. That’s never happened again, though. When I eat and sleep right, I usually have no problem.”

“It must be scary never knowing when it might pop up.”

“Alittle. I’m just glad Noah didn’t inherit those genes,” Hobie said. “I’ve thought about it a lot lately and I’ve decided to take better care of myself, at least for Noah. I don’t want him losing me like I lost Dad.”

Okay...now I know Noah was definitely not adopted, Baylor thought.

Just then, the object of their conversation ran into the room. “You done with your nap, Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie, thanks for letting me sleep.” “S’okay. I’m hungry.”

“Mmm, me too. We better get home, huh?”

“Um...if you want...” Baylor’s voice caught mother and son’s attention. “I was going to throw some stuff on the grill and, well, I have plenty. You could stay for dinner. That is, if you want to.”

“Oh, thanks, but we’ve imposed on you enough for one day.”

“It wouldn’t be imposing at all,” Baylor quickly said. “What do you say to a barbecue, Bubba?”

“Hot dogs?” Noah asked with an excited expression. “Hot dogs...bratwurst.”

“Ooh, bratwurst,” Hobie said. “I haven’t had grilled bratwurst since I was in college.”

“Then it’s a date,” Baylor said without thinking. Suddenly realizing what she’d said, she looked at Hobie to see if she had noticed it, too. If Hobie did, she gave no indication.

The evening became about as pleasant a night as Baylor and Hobie could ever remember spending. It was nine o’clock before Hobie could drag herself away. Noah slept soundly on the love seat with Arturo curled in a small white ball beside him. He never woke when Hobie carried him out to her pickup.

“Are we okay again?” Hobie asked, leaning against the open driver-side door.

Baylor smiled. “Yeah, everything is good. Very good,” she couldn’t keep from adding. She breathed in the now familiar scent of Hobie’s perfume, finally recognizing it as Opium.

The two drew closer. It seemed natural to be standing within the same space. There was a force between them, something they couldn’t see, but if they could, Baylor imagined that it would have looked like smoky tendrils. The strands wove around and between them, pulling them closer and closer.

The silence hung heavy in the air. Baylor waited, too afraid to take the final risk of reaching in to initiate the kiss. It was so hard, so awkward. The reality was that she would be accepted or denied. Why was that so hard to face? Suddenly, Baylor stopped thinking. If she was thinking, her conscious mind certainly wasn’t aware of it. She was as lost in the luminous green eyes before her as Hobie appeared to be adrift within the gray of Baylor’s eyes.

“I guess...I, um...should go,” Hobie said in a dreamy voice. “Huh? Oh, yeah...um, yeah, I should probably, um...you

know, get inside.” “Inside?”

“Inside...the house.” Baylor pointed without taking her eyes from Hobie.

“Oh, yeah. The house.” Hobie shook her head and the spell was broken. “I really have to go. Thanks so much, Baylor.” She quickly kissed Baylor on the cheek.

Never in a million years would Baylor have thought that one quick peck on the cheek could affect her so. There she stood in the middle of the street long after Hobie had driven away. She found it hard to believe that her cheek could still tingle with warmth so long after a kiss.

“You kissed her? Oh, my God! What happened? What did she do?” Laura asked in disbelief.

Hobie and Laura were having coffee and doughnuts in the office kitchenette, something they did on Fridays, when they enjoyed their breakfast, then opened the office extra early. That way, they closed at noon.

Laura was astounded at the news. “Details, woman, details.” “Oh, please. There are no details to tell. It was a friendly

‘thanks and good night’ sort of kiss on the cheek,” Hobie said. “Oh, yeah. You kiss me good night all the time. I can see how that would happen.”

“Very funny. Look—” The bell interrupted their conversation.

“Don’t think I’ll let this drop,” Laura said before going back to prepare the examination room for their next patient. “This conversation will be continued.”