Seven (25 page)

“Savannah please don’t go. Wait for the…”

I don’t even hear the rest of his sentence because I slam my car door closed. He pleads one more time to get me to stop by pounding on my window, but his efforts are fruitless.

“SAVANNAH!” I hear him yell as I slowly step on the gas leading my car down his driveway.

I have nothing.

He has part of my baby girl and I have nothing.

I don’t even know where I’m heading. I just needed to be away from Bryant and away from Bardstown for a while. Maybe I’ll just drive until I’m tired and get a hotel somewhere so I can be alone. Maybe I’ll circle town and go to Mom and Dad’s for a while. I could go to Rachel’s but I’m almost positive that’s the first place Bryant will look for me. Within five minutes I see the entrance ramp for I62 west and decide to just take it. Who cares where I end up tonight.

My thoughts are running wild as I play back in my head everything that happened just a short time ago.

“SHE WAS MY BABY!”

“I can’t believe I was such a goddam fool.”

Tears are still flowing as I drive further down the road. Bryant is right. This rain is ridiculous. It’s pounding on the top of my car. Already there are puddles forming on the roadways that I try my best to dodge. I can only barely see where I’m going between the rain hitting the windshield and the rain, in the form of tears, falling down my face. Everything is a blur. I hear my phone ding alerting me to a text message that I can only assume is from Bryant. Taking my eyes off the road to read it would be a huge mistake so I ignore it. I make it maybe a total of twenty miles down the road before I decide not to be an idiot. Turning on my emergency flashers, I pull the car over to the side of the road. At least here I can wait out the storm alone and in peace.

Grabbing a tissue from my purse, I wipe my face and blow my nose. I focus on breathing in and out for a solid three minutes to calm myself down. Why does this hurt so badly? Why is this affecting me so much? I warned myself months ago that Bryant Wood was a douchebag and like an idiot I chose not to listen and now here I am – broken, and alone.

I reach for the nob to the stereo, hoping that something might calm me down, but of course the world is out to kill me today. Sam Smith’s voice singing “Stay with Me” flows through the car speakers drowning out the rain. All I can do is listen to the lyrics, thinking about how Bryant would be saying these words to me if he were here right now…that he was saying these words to me before I left. I’m so confused. Deep down, as hurt and as angry and as confused as I am, I still want him here. I miss him already.

But he lied to me.

“FUUUUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK!” I pound on the steering wheel in front of me, taking out all of my hurt and aggression in the only way I can right now. I don’t care that when I hit the steering wheel it honks. There’s nobody here. I can cry as hard as I need to, because nobody is around to hear me.

“Okay Savannah. Time to play Devil’s advocate.” I say to myself in between sniffles. Questioning my own thoughts is the only way I’ve been able to survive on my own. It’s the only way to work through my pain.

What am I upset about the most? The lie, or the truth?

This is a hard question for me to answer, which makes it the right one to be answering. Am I mad that Peyton’s liver was donated to Ivy specifically? No. How can I be? It’s not her fault. She was in a life-threatening situation and my Peyton was able to help save her. She was a hero to so many children who never asked for my child to die. It’s not any of their faults. It’s not their parents’ faults. It’s not my fault. I know all this. The fact that I can easily come to this conclusion tells me that what upsets me the most, obviously, is the fact that Bryant knew about it and never told me.

What upsets me the most is the lie.

Who does that to someone they love? Who hides an inevitable truth, one that will absolutely cause a certain level of heartache, from the person that they love.

Someone who just wants to protect.

“Sev, there was no way I could ever contact you to tell you
because how would that have made any part of this better for you?”

Bryant’s explanation plays over again in my head and for the first time I begin to understand. He’s right. If he would’ve told me all of this right when it happened, looking back on the state my mind was in then, I would’ve succumbed to an even deeper depression. It would’ve ripped me apart knowing that my kid was dead but a piece of her was alive in a child that not only wasn’t mine, but one that I would be running into around town.

Love is an ugly beast sometimes, I know. It makes us do stupid things. It rips out our hearts when we least expect it. It grows on us like weeds, sometimes killing us with its poison. It throws us into the fires of hell several times during our lifetime and for what? So we can stand up, brush ourselves off and start all over again from the beginning and then sometimes, sometimes when we least expect it, love morphs from an ugly beast into the thing our hearts desire most. Passion. Companionship. Loyalty. Comfort.

What if I still love him?

What hurts more? Knowing the truth and staying with Bryant, or knowing the truth and leaving him?

I swallow the lump in my throat, thinking about what Mama would say if I were sitting with her at the dining room table. I’m sure she would pull out her Bible and read me that “Love is patient. Love is kind” verse that everyone reads at weddings. But then she would probably pat me on the arm and tell me that I’m the strongest girl she knows and that it’s okay to be scared because “Bein’ scared means you’re probably thinkin’ about doin’ somethin’ really brave.”

I miss my mama sometimes. We live in the same town, yes, but a lot of shit has happened in the past couple years and Mama has helped keep me going when I didn’t want to. This is one of those times. As much as she annoys me with her southern Bible talk, like Annelle Dosoto from
Steel Magnolias
, she’s still my mama. She’s the one person I need to hug me tightly and put all my broken pieces back together. Pulling out my phone, I see that I’ve missed several texts from Bryant that I refuse to even look at right now. I send Mama a quick text to let her know I’ll be stopping by this evening, and that I’ll just stay there tonight and drive to work from there in the morning. Checking the GPS on my phone I see that I’ll have to drive down to the next exit in Elizabethtown to turn around and come back this way. I take a deep breath to settle my frayed exhausted nerves. The rain is still coming down and the fog is rolling in, but it’s not unbearable. I look through my purse for one last Kleenex to blow my nose before leaving but I don’t find any there. I always keep a box in the back seat in case of an emergency, so I turn around to reach for it on the floor. I start to turn myself back around when the bright light blinds me.

Headlights.

Big headlights.

Coming right at me.

Shit! There’s no time
…

I hear the deafening crunch of my vehicle as my head hits my head rest behind me and pin-balls between both front seats. The car is being pushed forward with the force that only a semi-truck could provide.

Oh my God!

There’s a flash of pain in my right shoulder that doesn’t register until my body is tipped upside down, weightless, as the car slides down a hill I didn’t know I was close to and flips. My arms automatically flail above my head, hitting the ceiling of the car.

“HELLLLLP” I scream in pain, from what I’m not quite sure.

My eyes are squeezed closed as I feel the car roll several times, knocking my body like a rag doll against my door, against the console and back before the car stops. My head finally hits the steering wheel with a hard enough thud that blood splatters from my nose.

“Bryant!” I’m calling to him but no sound is coming from my mouth.

“BRYANT!” I cry.

Please hear me.

Slowly I move my head but my eyes can’t catch up. Everything is blurry. I taste the salty bitter taste of blood at my mouth. I don’t know what just happened. All I know is that I’m alone and wherever I am, nobody knows I’m here.

Nobody is coming to help me.

The world around me is alarmingly silent. I’m growing tired and my head hurts, and it’s getting harder to breathe. If I could just close my eyes…

This is it.

I’m dying.

This is how it happens then.

July Seventh.

I should’ve known.

“You are my sunshine…”

It’s only a matter of time now.

“My only sunshine…”

It’s so easy.

“You make me happy…”

Wait…Bryant…

“When skies are gray…”

No! Breathe Savannah!

“You’ll never know dear…”

I can do this!

“How much I love you.”

Don’t you die, Savannah!

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

*****

Beep. Swoosh…Beep. Swoosh…Beep. Swoosh.

Chapter 28

Bryant

She left.

I’m standing outside in the pouring down rain gasping for breath from running after her car down the driveway. I can’t believe she left. I can’t say I’m surprised. Her reaction is exactly what I knew would happen, yet I did nothing to prevent it from happening. This is all my fault.

“DAMNIT!” I shout as loud as I can, leaning my head back into the cold punishing shower above. I kick at the gravel at my feet and watch as several stones fly up ahead of me. How could I have been so damn stupid? We were doing so well, why couldn’t I have just told her? And today of all days…she shouldn’t be alone tonight.

Fix this Bryant.

I contemplate going after her but I’m not exactly sure where she’ll end up. She probably headed back home, but could’ve headed to her parents’ house on the outskirts of town. I could at least drive by and see if her car is there. Running back to the house I pull my phone from my back pocket sending a quick text to Savannah:

Me: I love you. I’m so sorry. Please at least text me when you get   

     where you’re going. You shouldn’t be driving in this weather.

I click the button to send the text and then immediately regret sending it to her in this weather. Her eyes will be blurry enough from crying and I just made matters worse by sending her a text while I know she’s driving. I’m such an idiot. Once I’m back inside the house I pull my wet hair back off of my face and pace back and forth in the kitchen, praying that Savannah texts me back. Thunder continues to clap loudly outside. It’s definitely not helping my fear for Savannah’s safety. I send a text to Rachel and Sloan asking that they let me know if they see or hear from her.

Rachel: What did you do this time?

Me: Long story. I fucked up. Explain later.

I throw my phone down in frustration. I’m quite certain she wouldn’t drive to the bar. Sloan isn’t a bad guy at all but she wouldn’t go to the one place she knows people would be looking for gossip. She had to have headed home. I know she thinks she might need space but I need to fix this. Before I can go anywhere though, I need to change out of these wet clothes. Running back to the bedroom I throw my wet jeans and t-shirt in the bathroom before pulling on dry clothes. I step into my cowboy boots that I are waiting for me by the front door, head back to grab my phone in the kitchen and run out the door intent on finding the love of my life and begging her to forgive me. I’ve never begged a girl for anything in my life, but I owe this girl everything. I can’t imagine my life without her now. I don’t even have to think about it. I need her.

The drive east into town is a ridiculous disaster. I’m lucky I didn’t run off the road with all the hydroplaning I did along the way. How Savannah’s little car isn’t stuck in a ditch along the road is beside me. Her car isn’t nearly as heavy as mine…though I suppose she drives slower than I do. Luckily, there were no accidents on the way into town. Deciding to swing by her apartment first, I hang a right towards Main Street. Immediately I have to pull the car over as a fire truck and ambulance speed past me in the other direction.

Stupid drivers.

Within minutes I’m pulling into Savannah’s apartment complex but her car is nowhere to be found. There are no lights on in her apartment. She’s not here. I swing the car back onto the road and drive by both the bar and the salon but don’t see her car in either of those places. The only other place I could think of besides Rachel’s house would be her parents’. I trust that Rachel would text me if she showed up there but just to be sure I head in that direction. It’s on the way to where Savannah’s parents live anyway. Twenty minutes later I’ve come up empty handed once again. She’s not at Rachel’s nor did I see her car parked in her parents’ driveway. I suppose it’s possible that she parked in the garage but I can’t just walk up and knock on their door. I’m not even positive they know about me.

“FUCK!!! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!” I scream as I punch the steering wheel with as much force as I can muster.

I’m helpless.

She’s gone. I did this. My own stupidity and selfishness drove here away and now I have no idea where she is. So help me God if something happens to her tonight I’ll never forgive myself. I don’t know what to do now. I’m not the kind of guy who usually panics but I know what today is, I know what I’ve done, and I know that Savannah is now God-knows-where, and is most likely alone.

The rain is still coming down at a steady pace, though I haven’t seen much lightening in the last couple minutes. Hopefully the storm will be over soon. It would make things at least a little bit more convenient. Continuing to hope that she texts me back I keep staring at the screen on my phone, swiping it with my finger and punching in my password just in case I may have missed her text.

Like that would happen.

Before I even know what I’m doing, I’m pressing Savannah’s name in my “Favorite contacts” list. I don’t even know what I’m going to say but I need to hear her voice. Four rings in a row I hear before her phone jumps to voicemail. She’s not answering. She doesn’t want to talk to me. Can I blame her?

No.

“Savannah, I’m sorry.” I start when I hear the beeping following her voicemail message. “Listen, Please just…I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I was going to tell you. I wanted to tell you. I’ve wanted to tell you since the day I saw you. Please just…Savannah text me when you get to where you’re going. You don’t have to tell me where you are. I just need to know you’re safe. I love you. Savannah, I love you.” Ending my call, I grip my phone in one hand while holding my forehead in my other hand. Savannah was right. I tried to ignore her depressed state when I spoke to her this morning. I thought I was doing something fucking good for her today and now I’ve gone and fucked it all up.

I don’t deserve her
.

Deciding to head back home in case she decides to stop back, I turn my truck around. The drive home is slow and depressing. I’ve failed her. I failed her then and I failed her now. Driving home without her feels like a piece of me is missing. At least with Ivy away for the next couple nights I can try to focus on what the hell I’m supposed to do to fix this. It’s not like I can take Ivy’s liver and give it back to Savannah. Nor do I think that’s what she would want. I have to imagine that what hurts the most is knowing that I knew this whole time and never said anything…because I’m a pussy who was too afraid of losing the one good thing to walk into my life to just be honest with her.

*****

The bourbon in my glass slides down my throat with ease. I revel in the burn, accept it as a punishment for all I’ve done. It’s been hours and I still haven’t heard from Savannah, or anyone else for that matter. I pour myself my third glass of bourbon and lift it to my lips when my phone rings.

Thank Christ!

“Hello?” I answer the phone breathlessly in haste to hear any news.

“Bryant. It’s Rachel.”

“Is she there? Is Savannah with you?”

“No. I haven’t heard from her. And I hadn’t heard from you so I thought I would call and see what’s going on.”

“Fuck,” I whisper more to myself than to her.

“Bryant? Talk to me. What happened?”

I’m silent for a moment as my third shot of bourbon slides down my throat. My glass clinks on the table beside me with a louder thud than I anticipated. “I screwed up Rache, and I don’t think I can fix it this time. She’s gone.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she says. “Anything can be fixed with a little love and tenderness.” There’s silence from both ends of the line as I decide that I don’t even know what to say. “Wow…you must’ve hurt her feelings pretty badly…want to talk about it?”

“It’s Ivy’s liver.”

“What?” she asks, confused. “What’s wrong with Ivy? Is she okay? Oh God, what happened? Did she get hurt?”

I’m shaking my head back and forth as the room spins. I know she can’t see me doing it but it happens nonetheless. “No. Ivy’s fine. She has Peyton’s liver.”

The silence on the other end of the line is deafening. “Rache? Are you still there?”

“Yeah. I’m here…I just…what do you mean Ivy has Peyton’s liver? Savannah’s Peyton? I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, Savannah’s Peyton. The one and only,” I say a little louder as I sloppily pour myself a fourth shot of bourbon.

“Expl…wait…” Rachel says. I’m not quick to answer her because my thoughts aren’t coming as quickly as they were a few hours ago…when I was sober. “Are you seriously telling me that Peyton’s organs were donated and that Ivy was the recipient of her liver?”

I swallow the shot of bourbon sitting in front of me, grimacing at the burn that attacks my throat. “Yep.”

“Oh my God,” I hear her say softly on the other line. “How do you know this for sure?”

I sit for a moment trying to decide the best way to explain it all to Rachel without her hearing that I’m certifiably drunk right now.

“She wrote a letter to the Give Life foundation after Peyton died. I’ve had one of those letters sittin’ in my dresser drawer for years.”

I hear her gasp on the other end of the line. “And you never told anyone?”

“Nope.”

“No one? Not even your parents?”

“Not even my parents.” I lay my head down on my arm still holding the phone with my other hand. My head is spinning but I lift it so I can reach for the bourbon anyway. Noticing that there isn’t much left, I don’t even bother with the glass, I tip it back and swig it right out of the bottle.

“Oh Bryant. How did she find out? She didn’t hear it from you I assume.”

“Nope. Found her letter in my drawer,” I explain sheepishly. “Complete accident but still…it’s on me Rache. This is all my fault. I’ve been tryin’ to find a time to tell her but there was never a good time. I love her, Rache. I’m in love with her and I want her back but she doesn’t want me.”

“You don’t know that,” she assures me. “Maybe she just needs some space.  Give her the night and see what happens tomorrow. A lot can change after a good sleep.”

“Yeah…maybe.” Maybe she’s right. I can definitely feel the need for sleep pulling me under. Alcohol has stunted my brain for the night. I’m out of coherent thoughts except for one.

I’m sleeping alone tonight.

“Call me tomorrow if you don’t hear from her first thing, Bryant, okay? I’ll help you look for her anyway that I can.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Night Rache.”

“G’night Bry.” I hear her say before I disconnect the call. I stumble over to the couch since it’s a hell of a lot closer to me than my bedroom. I’ll just sack out here in case a miracle happens and Savannah comes back to me tonight. Grabbing the throw blanket behind me, I fall onto the couch and cover part of my body with the blanket. I’m out for the count in seconds.

*****

“BRYANT!” She’s knocking on the door. I’ve been looking for her for days, coming up empty each time.

Where the hell did she go?

Why wouldn’t she at least text me?

I open my eyes a smidge when I hear the knocking, but my splitting headache tells me I’m not ready to get up. Last night’s bourbon party was meant to erase my pain, stop the hurt, but this morning I’m one hundred percent sure I’ll be regretting it.

BAM BAM BAM I hear on the door again. “BRYANT, It’s ME! Open the door!” I hear her shout. I try to get up, to get to her quickly, but my body betrays me. I flail around in my bed, frustrated that my feet and arms are getting tangled in my sheets. I don’t even remember going to bed. I’m pretty sure I sacked out on the couch so how the hell did I get here?

“BRYANT! PLEASE! OPEN UP!” She’s screaming right now, banging on my door. I get my hands free and try my best to slide off the bed, anxious to get up and run to her. I’ve missed her so damn much. I just want my hands on her, to feel her, to kiss her, to hold her and tell her how damn sorry I am for hurting her the way I did.

“I’m coming, Savannah! I’m coming. Hold on!” I reach my hand out, assuming if I do so, she’ll put her hand in mind and I’ll have her. Instead I’m holding onto a pillow as my body slips off my bed and I land on the floor with a hard thud.

Immediately my eyes spring open. I’m awake, alert and laying…on the living room floor? I didn’t fall out of my bed. I fell off the couch.

It was a dream?

But it felt so real.

I take a deep breath, trying to settle my anxiety over hearing Savannah’s voice again. The clock on the wall says it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. Damn…the bourbon knocked me out way longer than I anticipated.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. “BRYANT!!! If you don’t open this door right now I’m going to break a window!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I say to myself as I lift myself up off the floor. I guess I wasn’t dreaming about everything. “I’m coming. Hold on!” As soon as I reach the front door, I unlock it and turn the knob. Rachel pushes the door open quickly. It smacks me with force as it opens. “Ouch. Damn, Rachel.” I rub my head. “What the fuck do you want?”

I don’t make eye contact but I hear the tremble in her voice. “Bryant?” She sighs. “You’ve been drinking?”

“Last night…I…”

“We don’t have time, Bryant.” She’s extra hurried and I’m still lethargic, so I don’t understand. Finally, my eyes look to her face and that’s when I see it. Her expression screams fear, pain, fear, anxiety, fear…