"Nope," she said, popping the p at the end of the word. A keychain with a miniature magic eight ball and stuffed panda bear dangled from her hand. "I'll drive myself home, skank."
"What's going on?" Aanon asked.
Mayva stumbled as she turned, and he caught her by the arms. With a drunken smile, she closed her eyes and her head flopped forward onto Aanon's chest.
"Did she just go to sleep?" Farrah asked.
"I just googled the definition of skank," Burtlebey said with a frown at the glowing screen of his phone. "Mayva wasn't even close."
"Did she call you that?" Aanon asked, struggling to keep the girl upright.
"Can you find someone to take her home?" Farrah asked. "I really doubt she would be safe on the roads right now."
With a tossed look over his shoulder, he lowered Mayva to a swiveling chair and patted the top of her head with a lot less care than he would give to Bruno. "Ben's three sheets to the wind and so is Audrey. It's the last hoorah for most everybody here until after the snow dies down. Who even knows when that'll be? I'm the only one close to sober in this place besides you and Briney."
"You just had the one beer?"
"Yeah. I finished it an hour and a half ago. You want me to take her?"
"You know where she lives?"
"Everyone knows where everyone lives in this town."
Visions of Mayva drunkenly groping Aanon in the cab of his Chevy almost made her stubborn enough to make her find her own ride home, but the girl was no threat to her. She'd watched Aanon try to escape her all night.
"I swear, Fennel," he said, hoisting the petit woman over his shoulder with a grunt. "If she pukes in my truck, you owe me big time."
"I owe you anyway because that," she said waving to the snoring figure tossed over his shoulder like a sack of flour, "is a mess."
"And you're not a skank," he said before he left.
"I told you!" Burtlebey exclaimed.
****
Tonight had included the longest three hours in the history of the universe. By the time Farrah closed the bar, split tips with Briney, cleaned the place spotless, and locked up, Aanon still hadn't returned. As she stood outside the bar awaiting her ride, her worry flared to discomfort. She would have just taken the four-wheeler back home, but apparently Aanon had already loaded it in the truck before he'd gone to escort Mayva home.
When he finally pulled to the front of the bar, she was dead on her feet, starving, and half-frozen. His apologies were many. Apparently Mayva had tried something with him when he took her inside her house, and he'd had a sit down with her to explain he didn't feel that way about her. Farrah was tempted to point out the girl was wasted and likely wouldn't remember how to spell her first name, much less any rebuff from him, but she refrained. In his own way, he'd claimed her by telling Mayva he was unavailable.
So maybe it wasn't exactly intelligent to let something so unassuming bring such a rush of pleasure, but this was about as public as they were able to make their relationship, thanks to Erin. The admission that his heart was taken was an unexpected gift Farrah gladly accepted.
Now, she sat in the warmth of her cabin, staring at the screen of Aanon's cell phone, just as she had been for the last ten minutes. Why did the thought of talking to Miles scare her so badly? He was an ocean away.
"Come on," she growled.
After all the work she'd been doing, after all the confidence she'd built, she was going to let a man cut her off at the knees? Heck no. With trembling fingers, she pressed the number from memory, held the speaker to her ear, and prayed that he would pick up so she could get this over with. Then again, she was calling him at four in the morning New York time in simultaneous hope that he wouldn't pick up, so she could go another day without Miles's taint upon the life she was building.
"Hello?" he answered in a sleepy voice.
Damn.
"Hello, Miles."
He lowered his voice, a note of hope ringing in his tone as the sound of fabric rustled against the speaker. "Victoria?"
Seriously? He'd told her his wife's name was Laura. Cheating rat bastard.
"No, this isn't Victoria. It's Farrah."
He cursed softly into the phone and said, "Hang on." The sound of a door shutting echoed through the line and moments later he apologized for making her wait.
"I see you haven't changed at all," she said, disappointment filling her at how much time she'd wasted in ignorance.
"What do you want, Farrah?" he asked.
"I have something to tell you. Something I probably should've told you a long time ago, but I was hurt and angry with you, and I didn't want you involved in my life. But now it's not just my life." Oh God, oh God, here it goes. After a steadying breath, she said, "I'm pregnant."
A beat of silence stretched between them.
"Who's the father?"
"You. Of course." Why would she be calling him if he weren't? Apparently, she'd dated a cheater and an idiot. "Look, I've had plenty of time to come to grips with this, so if you need time to mull it over, I completely understand. I just wanted to let you know about the baby, and also that I don't want anything from you. No child support or financial help of any kind. The baby and I will be fine on our own."
"Why wouldn't you want me to help financially? You know I have the means to pay. I want you comfortable. Where are you? I think we should meet up for lunch and talk about this."
She imagined the miles that stood between them and was grateful for the distance. She had to tell him. That was the point of it all, right? To take the power away from Erin and take control of her own life?
"I'm in Alaska."
"Ha ha, funny. No really, where are you?"
"I went home, Miles."
"Your home is in Alaska?"
"I told you where I grew up countless times. How did you not get that after four years together?" She glared at the crumpled picture of them still sitting half hidden under the bedside table where she'd thrown it.
"Holy shit, Farrah!" He lowered his voice again and said, "You're really in Alaska? With my child?"
"No. I'm in Alaska with my child. You haven't earned the right to be a present father. What would I tell the child about you? That daddy can't visit this month because his real wife doesn't know he or she exists? I'm not doing that. This is a courtesy call, Miles. You've got Victoria and Laura to keep you entertained."
"You know Laura and I have been trying for a child for years, Farrah. You can't keep my own flesh and blood from me."
"I can if you sign over your paternal rights. I don't want money or support of any kind from you. I just want to be free to raise my child. Go back to your life, keep trying for a child with someone you actually respect. Someone you can start a family with. Let me go."
"Is there someone else?" Desperation tinged his voice.
"That's none of your business. You lost the right to keep tabs on me when you admitted I was your mistress."
"Where in Alaska are you? I think we should talk in person and work this out. The child needs a father, and you need to be in New York where he could have a future. There's nothing for my child in Alaska."
"I don't want you visiting. I don't want to work things out. You ruined my life, and if I'm going to make the best out of this situation, I have to do it without you. You're poison Miles. I feel sad and guilty about your wife all the time, but that isn't on me. That's on you. Does she even know about me? Does she know about Victoria?" She spat the name. "You aren't ready to be a father any more than you are ready to be a husband or even a decent man. If you ever cared about me at all, you'll forget about me and the baby and let me live my life in peace. Goodbye, Miles."
"But-"
She hung up the phone before he could say more. Dropping the phone on the bed like it was a centipede, she stood and glared at it. Her chest heaved and adrenaline pumped through her veins. She'd done it. She'd sounded defiant and strong and brave, but still there was worry. What if he tracked her down? Forced her to come back to New York? Could he do that?
The vision of raising her baby in the Alaskan mountains wavered. How could he say there was nothing for a child here? Fresh air, miles to run, snaking rivers, and good people weren't nothing. They were everything.
Swallowing her fear, she plucked the cell phone from the bed and left to find Aanon. When she glanced at the screen, it said she'd missed picking up three calls, in rapid succession, from Erin. Did she somehow know her treachery and vengeful plans were being sabotaged? Her pet voodoo doll probably told her so.