Chapter Forty: Honeymoon & Home

"I knew we should have accepted those honeymoon tickets."

Rowdy winces as his foot hits another unpacked box. "Why? This is romantic. There's candles and everything."

"They aren't even real." I pout and toss a flickering LED tea light candle across the room. It bounces off the wall and onto the carpet.

Rowdy laughs and rolls over on top of me in our bed, running the white lace of my lingerie through his fingers. "We can go to Venice anytime. Charlie can exchange the tickets. He told me so himself."

"But why can't we go now?" I whine. The new comforter set isn't worn in yet and the fresh threads scratch against my bare leg.

Rowdy pulls a few pins out of my hair, chucking them onto the floor. "See, I'm a simple man and I like simple things. I have this plan…"

He runs his fingers through my curls. "I was thinking we could go on vacation. I could sweep you off your feet and make you my wife on the other side of the world."

I breathe heavily as he kisses the delicate spot below my earlobe. "Or?"

"Or…" Rowdy nibbles my ear, his hot breath blowing onto my pillow. "I could make love to you for the first time as your husband in the first place we call home."

"Doesn't seem so grand," I murmur. Rowdy tickles the ribbon that ties the lace babydoll top I'm wearing. He presses the hardness in his boxers against me, causing me to clench my legs.

"Oh, it will be," he promises, lifting one of my legs around him. He places a hand on my chin, turning my head to the left. "Those are our first curtains."

"They're half hung," I complain.

"Yeah, but you're going to look at them every day and remember I did this." I moan as Rowdy thrusts against the thin material that covers the spot that aches for him.

He turns my chin to the right. "And you see that dresser?"

"Barely." I glance at the dark furniture, which has been only partly filled with clothes.

"You'll walk to that dresser, Cotton Baby, and you'll open that top drawer." Rowdy releases my leg and slides down my body. He hovers just below my belly button and I want to push him down, down, down.

"Inside, you'll pull out one pair of those pretty panties you like to wear." He clenches my thong between his teeth and glides it down my legs. I moan, feeling his stubble rub against my skin. His hands tease my thigh as he pries my legs open, settling right where I need him most.

"You're gonna remember you don't need 'em," he whispers in a husky voice. "Every day that you're with me, you're gonna know my tongue is the only thing that should be under your dress."

I blink my eyes as he yanks on the ribbon of my top. The fabric falls open and my breasts are out on display.

"Wh-What if I forget?" I stutter, dripping with need.

"I won't let you," he says in a low voice, pulling my lips apart with two fingers. He presses his wet mouth against my swollen clit. I clutch onto the bed sheets, gripping tightly.

He makes my vision blurry and all I see is this mass of hair and green eyes that gaze up at me with love. I arch my back as he worships me with his tongue. He likes me like this—vulnerable and defenseless. He makes it so that I only need him.

Ever.

The moon glows through the window, but it has nothing on my boy. He is everlasting, meant-for-me, lick-harder, go-faster foreverness. I am a bundle, wrapped in nothing but the attention he craves and the devotion he demands.

I grind my teeth as my stomach folds inward. Rowdy licks me continuously, stroking his tongue faster and faster. When I whimper, he slides two fingers inside of me, curling them as deeply as they will go.

"Rowdy, Rowdy, Rowdy…" I sing his name and he is hymns I know in my heart and gospels I preach in my sleep. He takes me places God didn't mean for us to travel and beyond a Heaven I can't see.

My nipples harden, but he would never leave them alone. He slides his free hand up my skin that sweats for him, grabbing me roughly. I roll my hips, guiding him to my soul.

I don't need it.

It was never mine anyhow.

Rowdy twists his hand and I cry out. My cheeks flush and sweat sticks to the nape of my neck. I tug on his hair, holding him firmly as my pressure releases. I squeeze my eyes shut and I look at it all.

Sycamore trees and rainbows I can't find.

Butterfly necklaces and love I can see.

Crooked smiles and forgotten breaths.

Rowdy is whispered confessions and bubbling joy. I am blind-loving bliss and he is traces of soft touches.

He is everything.

He kisses my center one last time as I pull him up by his shoulders.

"How do you do it?" I gasp, swimming aimlessly in his aura.

"Do what?" He presses against me and I know we are far from finished.

"Make me feel like I can't love you enough."

Rowdy grins with wet lips and it sends chills down my spine. "Maybe it's 'cause deep down, Baptist Girl, you know I've been loving you my whole life."

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.

Boxers, gone.

Babydoll top, disappeared.

All that's left are rumpled sheets and Rowdy's fingers as he brushes my skin.

Our bodies are nothing but glistening shadows of the night. He lies beside me in calm, but I am greedy, greedy, greedy.

"Take me, Rowdy," I whisper, sweeping my fingertips across his chin. "Please."

"It's our wedding night," he argues in a quiet voice. "I'm supposed to be sweet."

"I don't care."

I beg to him with my body, crushing my mouth against his. Our tongues swirl together and I grip his hair, pulling him closer to me.

He refuses.

Rowdy shoves me away, flipping me over in a single movement. The cold air blows between my thighs and he is on his knees behind me. I tremble, because I don't know what I've just done.

I ask for things I know nothing about.

"You trust me?" he questions, leaning over my back as he sweeps my hair to one side.

I nod, unable to speak. He presses his hand against my lower spine, making the curve of my back dip lower. On my hands and knees, he strokes himself behind me, gripping the meat of my flesh.

I've never, ever had someone back there and I whimper at the unknown.

But Rowdy is both surprise and truth.

He slides between my legs and into the spot that's familiar and squeezes him whole. A sound escapes me and he is deep, deep, deep. He reaches angles he's never reached and smacks my bottom raw.

"Can I love-fuck you, Cotton?" His honey voice is pure sex, and I twist the sheets in my hands.

"Yes."

I glance back and Rowdy shakes his head. "You're my wife, now, Cotton. Say it."

I am nothing but sacrifices to him and a martyr to his love.

"Love-fuck me with your cock," I whisper. "Please."

Rowdy groans as dirty words I never say shake him to his core. He pulls out, teasing me with just the tip. When I begin to ask again, he thrusts into me.

Hard.

My weight collapses under me, and he lifts me back up.

He loves and he fucks.

I am in an oblivion of darkness and he holds two hands on my waist. He moves me roughly, back and forth, back and forth.

My hair becomes a curtain, hiding me from his view. He's swift to tell me to look at him, but he never stops. My toes curl and I barely hang on.

My boy is a taker.

Rowdy takes me high and low, in his heart and back into mine. Sweat drips from his brow and onto my back. I have never felt him like this, in colors of red and black that swirl in passion. When I tingle, he pushes. When I quiver, he thrusts. I bounce off of him, but never away. He holds me closely, filling me again and again.

"Rowdy!" I shout his name and he digs his nails deeper.

"How does … it feel?" He is relentless, questioning me when I can't even breathe. He doesn't care.

The takers never do.

"Like fucking," I moan and it's the wrong answer. He disagrees with a forceful shove and asks me again.

"How does it feel?"

"Like … love." I manage to gasp out words I can't say and he punishes me for my mistake. He has no idea how he takes me to the edge and brings me back, only to push me away again. The fire starts and I'm the only one getting burned.

"How … Cotton?" He's barely holding on and I've got one last chance. I tremble beneath him as his plunges become fast and deep.

"Like forever!" I scream and my lungs give out. His heartbeats become mine and at once, they stop. Rowdy groans, filling and holding me still. I feel his legs shaking even harder than mine.

We will both fall in this place of darkness, but only one will descend first.

It's always me.

I collapse and he kisses me as I drop. His warm come drips down my thigh and it is the evidence of all that we are. My back, my neck, my cheek … there is no place that doesn't belong to him, no place he doesn't press his lips against.

"Cotton Baby," he breathes, wrapping me into his arms. "You love and you are love. Forever."

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"Cotton!"

Jessie runs to the front porch as I wait for her with open arms. "Hey, little sister!"

She squeals and holds me tightly. "Boy, I sure have missed you."

I grin and kiss her head. "Jessie, it's been two weeks."

"Yeah," she breathes. "Two weeks of living with hooligans."

I roll my eyes as she repeats Papa's words. We have to quit saying bad things around her.

"Oooh, this sure is pretty…" Jessie glances at our modest cobblestone house with blue shutters and plants that line the front. The stones make the building, but it's Rowdy that makes it a home.

"Thanks." Rowdy shuts the door to his truck, carrying two loads of groceries. "Hi, sweetie."

I kiss him on the lips and Jessie giggles. I feels weird now, being the adult and welcoming my husband. Weird, but a happy weird.

"How was your day?" I ask, opening the door. Jessie walks with us, touching the crème colored sofa and the glass tables. She follows us into the kitchen and sits on a barstool at the counter.

"Your father is something else!" He groans, setting a bag on the marble counter.

"What did he do?" I ask. I'm sure it won't surprise me. Papa's always up to no good.

"He asks me to come in early today, right? I say sure, it's a Saturday, I can work a long day. But no, he has me filling out paper work and all sorts of nonsense."

"So?" I don't see what the problem is.

"I'm not finished." He spins Jessie around on the stool and she squeals above our conversation. "At the very end of the day, I walk outside and there's a brand new black Chevy waiting for me."

I shrug. "He's a giver. So, where's the truck?"

"I told him no." Rowdy frowns and pulls fruit out of the grocery bag.

"No? Why?"

"'Cause I can buy a truck on my own. And we don't need one right now. You still can't drive."

Thanks for digging that knife in a little deeper.

"And then he asks me if I'm stopping by the house to pick up Jessie. I told him yeah, that we already promised her she could stay for the weekend. But I had to go by and pay the mortgage first. He says all right, punches me in the arm for not taking the truck, and says he'll see me later."

I take a seat at the kitchen table 'cause I get the feeling this story is more than I bargained for.

"So I stop by the office and they tell me my mortgage has been paid in full." Rowdy slams a bag of apples down. Poor apples, they never hurt anyone. "Paid in full, Cotton. He doesn't think I can take care of you. I swear, I'm paying that man back every dime he gave to me for being sick!"

"Rowdy, I don't think he thinks that," I say, rubbing his back. "He just wants to help. He knows school has started again and you won't be able to work as many hours."

"Yeah, he just wants to help!" Jessie repeats, kicking Rowdy mid-turn. "Maybe if you quit working and get started on them babies, you won't be stressing so much!"

Rowdy and I lock eyes and I peel them away to stare at Jessie. "Jessie, who told you to say that?"

"Nobody," she says, spinning again. "But I heard Ma talking to Papa and Ma said she wanted some grandbabies. And then Papa said it was too soon, that y'all just got married. And then Ma told him if y'all had babies, you'd come around more often. And then Papa said she was right and I was trying to listen to the rest, but Ma heard me shuffling outside of the door. She told me God don't like eavesdroppers and I yelled that Baby Jesus don't like stress babies and then I ran to Emmett's. Ma's getting faster in catching me in the house and those spankings are starting to get longer…"

"Jessie," Rowdy says slowly. "Go and get my football from the garage. I need to talk to Cotton, but I'll be outside in a little bit to play with you."

"Okay." He helps lift Jessie from the stool, but she doesn't budge.

"What?" I ask in an exasperated voice, putting my hands on my hips.

"I'm going to go outside," she says, shaking a finger at Rowdy and I. "But if you're not out there in a few, I'm coming back in. Ma and Papa tell me the same thing and the next thing I know, they're both screaming like gators and won't open the door. I'm just a child. A poor, cinnamon child…"

I groan and slap a hand to my forehead. "It's innocent, Jessie. The word is innocent."

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The first game of the football season is tonight and Forks County High is decorated all over with blues and yellows. Streamers hang from the ceiling, balloons are everywhere, and there's enough school spirit to choke a cheerleader.

"Rowdy!" Riley tosses a ball in the cafeteria and Rowdy catches it with ease, posing on one leg.

Folks around us cheer and Rowdy can't stop grinning. "Can you feel it, Cotton? Do you feel the excitement in the air?"

"I feel something, all right," I mutter, bitterly. I yank off my sweater and Charlotte Rose looks at me in confusion.

"You okay?" she asks.

"I'm hot. It's burning up in here."

"It's the end of September now. It's cooler than it was last week."

I swing my arms, trying to create a breeze. "No, it's definitely hot. Either that or I'm coming down with something."

"Oh no!" Rowdy fans me with one of his senior textbooks that I swear is going to knock me out. "You can't get sick. I finally get to play my first game. College scouts said they would be back to look at me in action and you need to be there."

I jab him with my elbow and knock his book to the floor. "Thanks for the concern."

"I'm the only husband you've got. Remember that, Mrs. Masen."

"I can get another one, Mr. Masen!" I retort.

"You weren't saying that last night Miss 'Do it harder, go faster, right there, right there, right there!'"

Jasper, Riley, and now AJ, who's in the ninth grade, whistle at Rowdy's low blow.

"That was cold, man." Riley mumbles.

"Chilly," Jasper adds.

"An iceberg," Alice chips in.

I don't know what comes over me, but I start crying. It's an ugly cry, and my face stretches wide and I start hiccupping.

"Look what you've done now!" Charlotte Rose yells at Rowdy. "If this is marriage, I want no part of it."

Jasper smacks his brother on the back of the head. "Nimwit!"

"Baby, I'm sorry!" Rowdy tries to comfort me but it just makes me sob harder.

"Y-You hurt my feelings!" I wail and my shoulders shake uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry. I am. Hey there…" Rowdy gives me a hug and pats me on the back. "How about an ice cream? Strawberry? Chocolate?"

I sniffle and look up with wide eyes. "Vanilla, please? With sprinkles? And a bag of chips? Oh, and a side of meatloaf, for later."

Even though I throw it all up after sixth period, it's totally worth it.

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"This is it, baby!" Rowdy jumps from side-to-side in his yellow jersey with the name Masen printed on the back. His jersey number is 22, and I remember it so I can keep an eye on him on the field.

I pat the heavy pads on his shoulders and my breath blows into the cool night air. It's definitely colder than usual, but Rowdy creates a wave of heat as we stand outside the boys' locker room.

"I'm proud of you, honey," I grin, giving him a kiss. "This is your big night. Make me proud and make a home run!"

Rowdy chuckles. "It's a touchdown, Cottonseed. And yeah, I'll do my best."

The coach whistles and calls the team for a huddle.

"I gotta go. Can I get another kiss?"

Rowdy grins that crooked smile I love and I lean forward. His chapped lips are freezing, but I mold them with my own. His tongue melts with mine and I could stay here forever, kissing him like this.

A whistle blows again. "Masen! Let's go, lover boy!"

I giggle and Rowdy grabs the back of my neck, pressing his forehead to mine.

"Fountain-love and crater-moons?" he asks in a thick whisper.

"Shit-browns and my-something-really-good," I murmur.

Rowdy kisses my forehead and jogs away. I check out his behind in his tight uniform and giggle.

I love that boy so much it makes me sick.

"Cotton!" I glance over at Charlotte Rose, who's waving at me on the other side of the fence.

I run through the hordes of people towards her. It seems like all of Forks County is here to watch the opening game.

"C'mon," she says, pulling my arm. "Our folks are up here!"

I bump into the crowd of cheerleaders from the opposing team. A flash of long hair whips me in the face. When I turn around, someone who I never expect to see smirks at me.

Hey, can I sit here?

I'm Leah.

A flood of memories from the senior skip day come flooding back.

That liar. How could she? Why would she?

I don't get a chance to confront her because Charlotte Rose practically drags me until we find our families in the center of the bleachers, third row. It's loud and the marching band play their hearts out. Ma waves at me as I climb the steps, trying to navigate through people.

"Cotton! Good to see you honey!" Ma kisses me and scoots over. Papa greets me too, as well as Deacon Biers, the Hales, and the Masens. Miss Sue is here too, except she's wrapped in a blanket and too damn old to be out like this.

"And now … for the first game of the season, we have the Forks County Hornets…"

The announcer pauses as we cheer and stomp loudly on the bleachers.

"And the Bend Creek High Oilers!"

Our side boos because we don't know the meaning of the word sportsmanship. The other side of the field cheers, trying to outdo us.

"I'll tell you what John, the Oilers have quite the linemen this year. From Patrick Jordan to Jacob Black, the Hornets are going to have to put all they've got into beating this undefeated team…"

The announcer's voice dies in my head as I turn to Charlotte Rose. "It's her! No wonder Rowdy recognized her. She looks just like Jacob!"

Charlotte glances at me in confusion. "Who?"

"Leah!" I point, but the football field is too long of a distance for her to see clearly. I snatch the binoculars from Ma's lap and hand them to her. "Long, dark hair. Third girl from the left."

Charlotte Rose slowly brings the binoculars down. "My heavens! It is her! Why would she lie and say she went to our school?"

"'Cause she's a liar, just like Jacob. I bet she's related to him. They look just alike." I shake my head in disgust. "Remember how she kept asking Rowdy a bunch of questions? I bet she was trying to get dirt on him, seeing if he was any better."

"Better for what?" Charlotte asks innocently.

"For this," I seethe. "Football. But Rowdy's gonna kick his ass out there!"

Ma hits me on my leg. "AnnaBella Cotton, you watch your mouth."

Dammit. Once a child, always a child.

"Sorry, Ma." I turn back to Charlotte and together we look for Jacob. She finds him first, dressed in jersey number 15. "Charlotte, you gotta do me a favor. Run down there and tell Rowdy Jacob's down there. I don't know if he heard the announcer or not."

"You got it." She leaps up and the movement makes me nauseous.

"Cotton, you all right?" Ma lays a gentle hand on my back.

"I'm fine," I say, swallowing. "Been feeling a little sick all day, that's all."

"Poor thing. What did you eat?"

"Skittles. Ice cream. Chips. Meatloaf. Two chocolate milks. An M&M I found in my pocket. A lollipop I stole from AJ. Leftover mashed potatoes I asked the lunch lady for. Oh, and bucket of chicken on the way home."

"Good Lord!" Ma and Esme yell at the same time and Esme leans over my right shoulder. She puts a hand to my head and lifts my chin towards her.

"Oh my goodness. You're pregnant." Esme says it matter-of-fact and Papa spills his soda onto the person in front of him. He doesn't even bother to apologize.

"What?"

"Yessiree." Esme nods and brushes back my hair. "You've been eating a lot? Feeling nauseous? Tired? A little warmer than usual? Breasts been hurting?"

Oh boy, this can't be good. I'm only a week and a half late. With everything that's been going on, I figured my cycle would show up eventually.

I nod to Esme, biting my bottom lip.

"I knew it. Four babies I've popped out. I should've known by your face. You're looking a little different."

"You're right," Ma agrees. "You're absolutely right."

"Well, hang on a cotton-picking second!" Papa pushes Ma out of the way and leans forward to me. "Are you with child, AnnaBella?"

"I-I don't know," I squeak out.

"Well doggone it!" Papa yells, forgetting we're around people. "Somebody go and buy my daughter one of them test things! Go on!"

"You don't have to hit me," Miss Sue gripes. "I'm going. Too dang chilly out here anyways…"

"Oh, baby!" Ma squeezes me until I can't breathe. "This is just, this is wonderful."

"We don't know yet, Ma."

"I do," she grins, kissing me on the cheek. "Anybody who eats leftover potatoes has got to be pregnant!"

I laugh and Jessie stands up, three people down the row. "Cotton is pregnant from taters?"

Oh God.

Jessie runs towards me and pats my sweater-covered belly. "You're having a tater baby? I knew it! I knew that's why I shouldn't have been eating 'em. Ain't nothing but trouble! They knock you up and leave you hanging!"

Ma tells Jessie to sit down but she's too busy screaming.

Papa holds a hand to her mouth as Charlotte Rose finally comes back. "Rowdy knows. He said the coach goes over the roster before they play. But he said to tell you he loves you."

I grin and when I glance up, he waves and blows me a kiss from the sideline.

I blow one back and everyone "awws" at the same time. Jessie tells Charlotte Rose I've been impregnated by a spud, but I don't even correct her.

At least she said the correct word this time.

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"The Hornets and Oilers are tied 14-14. Seems like the defense is on the move. Now that we're at half-time, let's listen to the soul and blues of the Hornet's marching band…"

I hear the announcer from inside the dirty bathroom stall, where none of the women are letting me pee in peace. Even Miss Sue is in here, telling me how I need to urinate on the correct end.

"Are you done yet?" AJ knocks on the door and I yell back.

"No!"

"I'm telling you, I already know," Esme says.

"Could be," Mrs. Hale agrees.

I pee directly on the stick, but I don't come out. Ma keeps knocking on the door, but I need this moment to myself.

What if?

What if we are?

What if we can't do this?

What if I can't finish school?

Suddenly, I'm finding it hard to breathe. I sit on the toilet, crying silently to myself, with my panties still down and my dress hitched up.

"Cotton?" Jessie crawls underneath the stall on the filthy floor. She stands up, and peels my hands away from my face. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do it, Jessie!" I sob. "I'm too young and Rowdy will be mad and we ain't ready. It's too soon!"

Jessie wraps an arm around me and squeezes. "But you can, Cotton. Remember that one time Ma told me to eat my taters-"

I cut her off. "Enough Jessie. This is serious. No potato talk."

"Just listen." She sounds much older when she's trying to give me advice. "Ma told me to eat my taters and I cried. I told her I didn't like 'em and that she put too much on my plate. She said I had to and do you remember what you told me?"

I shake my head.

"You told me to eat 'em one spoonful at a time. So I'm telling you the same thing. If you're having a baby, you take it one day at a time. And Rowdy will be happy and you'll be happy and everyone will help you. I can't change a diaper, but I'll practice on my baby dolls until I can, okay?"

I glance up with red eyes and Jessie kisses me on the cheek.

For once in my life, she actually makes sense. I don't realize a few minutes have passed by until Jessie yells through the stall.

"Ma? What does two lines mean?"

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"And Edward 'Rowdy' Masen is on the move. With less than a minute left in the game, this newcomer is determined to get his touchdown. Look at that John! Another five yards…"

Rowdy is plowing down the field and he can't be stopped. I don't know what all the football jargon means, but it must be good 'cause they won't stop mentioning his name.

I cheer and jump up and down for my baby.

For both of my babies.

As soon as this game is over, I'm telling Rowdy the good news. I'm as nervous as can be, but happy. Esme convinced me he'll be excited and she's never wrong.

The referee calls for a time-out and Rowdy scuttles to the side-lines. He takes off his helmet and even from here, I can see the sweat glistening.

He points to me in the crowd and signs, "I love you".

I gesture the same back to him when his jaw drops.

I don't understand what's changed, but he just stares and stares until I finally turn around.

Behind me, all of our family and friends are holding discarded pizza boxes open with letters written on them.

Rowdy can't read, but it's Jessie who makes a circle over stomach and then points to the words that makes him understand.

I can't breathe or yell at them or even move.

Rowdy drops his helmet and jumps over the dividing fence. His coach yells for him, but he keeps running.

Through the people standing.

Up the bleachers.

Past the man with the soaked jacket and onto the step in front of me.

"Yeah?" he breathes heavily and holds my face delicately in his gloved hands.

I nod, with tears streaming down my cheeks. "Yeah."

He laughs and grins and he's so stupidly happy he lifts me into his arms.

"She's pregnant!" My family and friends clap and cheer, but for a few strangers, they don't see what's so exciting about a teenage pregnancy.

"MASEN!" The coach waves his arm and Rowdy kisses me passionately.

"I love you, baby. So much. And you, Little Cottonseed." He rubs my belly and kisses me again, jumping down the bleachers.

He turns slightly and yells to my little sister. "Hey Jessie?"

"What?"

"You remember what I told you? That day we were practicing?"

She nods and grins.

"This one's for you, tater lover!"

She giggles as he climbs the fence and runs back toward the field.

"With the Hornets on the three yard line, they have to beat that mountain of a defense from the Oilers. Can they do it? This one is definitely a play for the records…"

Time seems to stop. There's barely any noise coming from the bleachers and every person that is able to stand, does.

"And the offense has the ball. Quarterback Goodman shows no mercy as he tosses the pigskin into the air … It's anyone's ball from here … No, number 22. Look at him move! He's right there. Two Oilers are holding him back, but no … look at him push … Go! Go! Go! TOUCHDOWN! Edward 'Rowdy' Masen wins the game!"

I squeal and cheer as my husband stands on his feet, dancing in the end zone. He takes off his helmet, dropping it to the ground.

The crowd shouts his name, but there is one person looking at him in particular.

Papa lifts Jessie onto his shoulders and Rowdy points at her.

One.

Two.

Three.

"JESSIE SWAN, BABY JESUS LOVES YO-"

My throat.

It closes and I cannot breathe.

There is no oxygen.

Jersey number 15 runs straight into him, plowing him into the hard, steel pole in the end zone.

Rowdy, with no helmet, knocks his head and falls, twisting onto the green grass.

Somewhere a referee blows his whistle and hordes of players run onto the field.

I don't see them.

My world is complete silence, buzzing into my ear.

I say nothing, pushing and shoving my way down the stairs.

Somehow I hear Papa scream my name, but it sounds like nothing I recognize.

My feet pound against the dirt.

Run. Fall. Get up. Run. Pound. Run.

Rowdy, Rowdy, Rowdy…

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"Ma'am, I am so sorry."

I push the doctor with two forceful hands. "Don't you fucking tell me that! Get in there! I fucking swear, you get your ass in there and save my husband's life!"

Pa grabs my arms, but I am stronger.

When it comes to my boy, I am always stronger.

This time, my feet race across the spotted linoleum. I turn the corner, my rain boots leaving dark marks on the white floor.

"Rowdy! Rowdy!" I scream, pulling back the curtain as doctors and nurses work over him.

"Again!" A defibrillator shocks his body, and he jerks up and falls.

"Get her out! We can't work like this!" A nurse tries to shove me away but I grab Rowdy's feet.

"Save him! Do you hear me? Save him!" I scream, but I am dragged away.

"Jenkins, stop his head from bleeding!"

"Again!"

Shock.

Jerk.

Fall.

My world turns to black.

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"Mrs. Masen, you don't understand. He has Guillain-Barré Syndrome and a history of seizures. With his weakened immune system and the brain injury and the spinal cord damage…" The doctor flips through his clipboard as if Rowdy's entire existence can be summed up on a few sheets of paper.

I get it now.

It's as if the universe has been waiting for this moment.

All of the therapies and long hours and treatments ... everything was for nothing.

My husband was never meant to live.

The great ones—the legends, the life-changers, the Rowdys of the world—those are the ones who die.

"Don't tell me that!" I hiss. "Two fucking days and you haven't done shit!"

"He's in a coma, Mrs. Masen. The body can't sustain under that type of injury. Even if he were to somehow miraculously wake up, he wouldn't…" The doctor's words linger in the air.

"He wouldn't what?" I taunt him, pounding the wall. "Don't you tell me what my boy wouldn't do! You don't know my God. You don't know shit about miracles…"

"Baby, come on. You need rest. Come on…" Ma pulls me away, but only because I let her.

I don't make it back to the waiting room.

I crumble right there in the hall, in the middle of machines beeping and visitors passing by. I crumble because I have to the right to cry, to mourn, and to melt into fucking nothing.

"Why, Ma?" I choke and a fresh set of tears pour out. She clutches on to me and she is all I have at this moment. "Why him? Why can't I have anything? What I have I done to make God hate me? What have I done?"

The saliva in my throat builds up, and I suffocate because of my pain.

Ma whispers words I can't hear. It doesn't matter.

She doesn't have an answer for this.

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"They've charged Jacob with assault." Papa bites into a hospital cafeteria sandwich, licking his lips. "They said he confessed to planning the attack."

"I hope he rots in jail," I mutter in a hoarse voice. Ma holds out a bag of chips and I eat one, but not for me. I don't want anything these days, but I eat because I have to.

"It's been two weeks, Cotton," Ma says slowly. "Are you going back to school?"

I glare at her for even thinking such a thing.

"Sweetie. You heard the doctors. Rowdy may never-"

I stand up, flipping the napkin holder off the table. "Don't you start! Don't you say his name and the word 'never' in a sentence again! Don't!"

I storm off, leaving my parents as alone as I feel.

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"What was it about?" Esme rubs my hair as I curl closer to her.

"Well," she begins. "We were outside playing at the lake. You know how he loves to be outdoors. But it wasn't him as he is now. It was a younger Rowdy. He was laughing and jumping."

I bring the image of her dream into my head, smiling. "Was the lake deep?"

"Oh yes," Esme answers softly. "So I yelled to him, be careful! But he ran off the pier and jumped again."

I laugh quietly, 'cause it sure does sound like him. "What happened next?"

"So he jumped, but he didn't come up this time. I screamed his name, over and over and he didn't come up."

"Oh no," I moan.

"But you know what? I turned around and there he was, tapping me on the shoulder. He said, 'Did you see me Mama? Did you see me?' I cried and I said, 'I sure did.' And then I asked him, 'Where did you go?' He looked me right in the eyes and told me he was with God."

I sniffle and wipe my face with the sleeve of my shirt. "What do you think it means?"

Esme ponders and whispers. "I think it means he's not here right now. That boy that's in that bed is not our Rowdy. I think God's got him and he's holding on to him so he doesn't feel no pain."

I smile. I like the idea of that. "Do you think he's coming back?"

Esme's lips quiver as she cries and her tears fall onto my face. "I sure hope so, Cotton. I sure hope so."

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"Can I talk to him?" Jessie sits on my lap, leaning over Rowdy.

It's been three months now. It's December 28th to be exact.

We spent our first Christmas with neither one of us speaking.

He's not getting worse, but he's not doing better.

"What do I say?" Jessie asks.

"Anything you want."

"Okay." Jessie takes a deep breath and grabs one of Rowdy's fingers. She's careful not to move any tubes or touch anything she's not supposed to.

"Hey, Rowdy. Um, a lot has been happening since you've been asleep. I got a new Barbie for Christmas. Ma told me I have to keep her clothes on and she can't go swimming in the washing machine again. I tried, but AJ told on me."

Jessie looks back at me and I prod her to keep talking. "I also talked to Baby Jesus. Reverend Weber says we're not supposed to bargain with God, but I think he'll forgive me just this once. So I told Baby Jesus I would eat all of the taters Ma gives me if you'll just wake up. I have too, Rowdy. I'm not fibbing or anything. I eat mashed taters and fried taters and taters mixed with onions. I don't like 'em too much, but I'm doing it for you. Reverend Weber says Baby Jesus hears everything we say, so I hope he heard me. Otherwise I'm gonna be real mad. So yeah, when you're done sleeping, can you let me know? I don't wanna eat more than I have to. And I love you, Rowdy. Very much."

Jessie glances up and I turn away to wipe my tears. "How was that, Cotton?"

I shake my head and stare out of the window.

"It was perfect, Jessie. Just perfect."

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"Are you sure?" Ma begs me to leave so we can all celebrate our January birthdays, but without Rowdy, there's no point.

I promise to stay in his room and that I'll be here when they come back. I kiss Esme and Carlisle and squeeze Emmett's cheeks. Dang kids are growing too damn fast.

I shut the door behind everyone, enjoying the quiet and the hum of the machines that keep Rowdy alive. I turn down the TV and scoot my chair to the edge of his bed. Reaching for his hand, I kiss each knuckle individually.

"Happy Birthday, Rowdy," I whisper. "The big 18, huh? You can finally buy cigarettes instead of Carlisle getting them for you…"

I chuckle to myself and stretch forward to touch his hair. "You're so strong, baby. So damn strong. Thank you for hanging in there. I'm so proud you, you know that? Everyone is. Ma and Papa and Carlisle and Esme. They all love you very much. And your little seed, too. He's getting bigger now. I think he's going to be another Emmett, but I hope not."

My bottom lip trembles and I can't find the will to hold on. "Baby, I have this necklace of yours. You remember what you said when you gave it to me? I remember 'cause I kept thinking how blessed I was to have met you. And I'm mad as hell at God right now, but I know He must have loved me at one point right? I mean He gave me you. And you're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me. I've got your heart, Rowdy. I know you can't hear or understand me, but I want you to know I'm holding on to it, baby. So you just stay there and I'll do all the work. I'll be your lungs and I'll keep your heart pumping. You just stay there and I'll do it all. They keep telling me to let you go. That maybe it's best to pull these tubes out, but I can't … I can't live knowing you're not here with me."

A desperation comes over me and I hover over him, wishing life was as easy as death. "I need you to get better, Rowdy. I miss you and I don't know how I'm supposed to do this by myself. I've got Ma and all of them, but I need you. I need your smile and I need you to tell me it's okay…"

I hiccup, struggling to breathe as I cry. "It doesn't feel okay. It don't feel right, baby. We're supposed to be the lucky ones. I know I told you we had to fight for our love, but I don't want to anymore. This battle is for nothing. We keep going down and down and I'm raising this white flag, but no one sees it, Rowdy. Life doesn't give a shit whether we win or lose. But I keep going for you. I'll climb every damn mountain but I need you to reach out baby. I need you to come back so we can go home. I can't sleep there without you. Papa gave me that new truck so I keep waking up and driving here and then the nurses kick me out. They don't get it, Rowdy. They don't know about how you carved our names and every time I pass that fountain, I break down and cry. I can't h-handle it. I can't do it anymore…"

I let my tears fall onto his hospital gown and I grasp his hand tighter. "I know you said your love was bigger than what I could see, but I see it, baby. It's bright and it's beautiful and I am holding on to it like life. So I need you to come back to me. Please. I prayed for you baby, even before I knew you. That's how I know I need you. We need you…"

Rowdy's machine beeps in the same steady pattern it always does. It never changes.

Beep, beep, beep.

Every one of 'em has the same green eyes, but it's the one closest to me I can't stop staring at.

Beep.

"I'm Rowdy," he says with a wink. His southern drawl is sweet and slow, like maple syrup.

Beep.

"Don't be ashamed. You're a tough one, I can tell. All cotton seeds start off small and hard. And when they finally start growing, they're almost impossible to pull apart."

Beep.

"Folks spend their entire lives letting their hearts beat when they can't even feel. Then when it's too late, it explodes, loud as a firecracker."

Beep.

Rowdy's this little piece in a big world and I'm trying to figure out how it all makes sense.

Beep.

"How'd you know how to do that?" I sigh, feeling weightless and light.

"I didn't," he answers honestly. "But when you love someone as much as I love you, you learn."

Beep.

"Promise me something," he says breathlessly.

I don't need to ask. I just do.

"Promise me that one of these days you're going to marry me."

Beep.

"You fib," he accuses me, wrapping his arms around me.

I gasp, trying to speak. "What?"

"You can't love, Cottonseed. You are love. That's what you're doing. Glowing all around me, just by being you."

Beep.

"Cotton, I'm in love with you. It ain't the type of love that comes and goes. My love is an 'I-believe-in-God, you've-given-me-a-reason-to-fight, cake-walk-funnel-cakes, carved-fountains' type of love. I swear on everything I promise to make you happy… Just say that you'll marry me…"

Beep.

"Are you ready to give all this up?" Rowdy grins and takes my hand.

"For you, yes." I lean forward on my tip-toes and give him a kiss. Rowdy is who I want to spend my life with and if that means starting a little earlier than most, then so be it.

It just means I get my happily-ever-after much quicker than I anticipated.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Rowdy's machine speeds up and the light flashes above his head.

I stand up, shaking his body.

"Rowdy! No. Don't do this. Baby, baby, baby. Don't, don't, don't."

I scream and pound my fist against his chest. His body heaves upward and his arm shakes.

A nurse runs in, pushing me to the side.

Taking off Rowdy's oxygen mask, she leans, hovering just over his lips.

Taking two steps back, she prods me forward.

I remember when there was a time Papa would settle out on the grass and tell us all about how we lived in the center of the Cotton Belt—the deepest part of the South where cotton was the most prevalent crop.

I just called Forks County, Mississippi home.

But as Rowdy Masen, the wild boy who stole my heart, exhales a breath, I know home is where the heart is.

"What would you do if I died?"

"You're not dying," I say. Death isn't a choice for him; I won't let it be.

"But let's say I was," he murmurs. "I just hope God accepts me into Heaven."

"He will."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But when I get to those pearly gates, I'm going to have to answer why I don't have faith like you Baptists do."

"What are you going to say?" I ask.

"I'm going to be honest. I'm going to look Jesus right in the eye, and without fibbing, tell Him the truth ... There's no way in this world I could love something as much as I love you..."

I clutch Rowdy's hand as his green eyes flutter open.

"Cottonseed…"

~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~