Chapter 34 - Protect Your Liver [https://cdn.midjourney.com/1c2f3b09-6bc4-463f-b9a7-6996550c2f1b/0_3.png]

“What?” Kennedy cracked the lid and sniffed again. The mix smelled like breakfast.

“Six months ago, I sent that stuff to a lab. Paying for something useless, who-do-woo-do, makes no sense, especially when it costs that much money every month. I needed to know what it was. Most of it is harmless, except for the dried crushed berries called Red Ursa. That one is a problem. It damages the liver.” Nana reached out and patted her knee. “Your Mom was so upset about not having the herb mix, I couldn’t say no to her. Back then, I didn’t even know you could send things off to get them tested. After I got the results back, I mixed up a batch of the harmless stuff and kept sending it to her. She said nothing, so I figured she was happy and your liver was safe.” She gave a wry grin. “Well, not completely safe. I know young people drink in college.”

“How long ago did you do that, Nana?”

“The old stuff ran out about two months ago. Three? It’s the only thing she has called me about since your dad died. You wouldn’t believe how much the original company charged for their poison.” Practical Nana. Her mom had always been so insistent about breakfast. She had even sent her off on vacation with the mix.

“Nan?”

“Yes, Kendie?”

“I know Mom comes from the place where I was born.”

“Do you? She decided to tell you?”

Kennedy nodded and traded the herb container for her coffee. Rolling the warm mug back and forth in her hands, she tried to make sense of the new information. “Did Dad ever say anything about my birth mom and dad?”

“Your parents never talked much about that. But be rest assured, they loved you as much as anybody can be loved. I don’t think your momma meant to hurt you. Those mountains carry a lot of strange ideas and folklore.”

“Nan. I went there.”

“Oh no. You shouldn’t have gone there.” Nana placed her coffee cup down haphazardly. “Honey, you can’t ever go there again. There are a lot of bad things up in those mountains.” She patted Kennedy’s knee with her dry, soft fingers. “We never should have let George go. Your daddy was not ready for all of that craziness. We thought he was going to help with a summer camp. We didn’t understand about the cults then.”

Nana took a slow sip of her coffee and Kennedy held her breath. If she said anything, her Nana might stop talking.

“Your momma was so scared when she first got here. She was like a little rabbit. Every shadow used to chase her. She thought about the craziest things. It’s part of why she and I don’t get along. You have to understand that she got a little twisted in the way she thinks because she grew up on that mountain. She used to hang the oddest things over your crib. Her people don’t see the world the same way as us regular Christian folk. Until I checked on those herbs, I thought she was a harmless type of crazy.”

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Kennedy had so many questions. She swallowed them one by one.

“Somehow, she got it in her head that a little baby, that a sweet girl, could spoil like a piece of fruit. She was sure if she didn’t keep her eye on you and the reins tight, you would go bad. I think she thought you might rot from the inside. It never made sense to me.”

“I want the truth about my parents, Nan.”

With a deep sigh, Nana sat back in her chair. “Your Dad only talked about it once, when you were small. It was the only time he thought about leaving her. He loved her so much. But her fears were gigantic. They were the monsters in your house and in their marriage. There are drugs up in those mountains, honey, and sometimes drugs make people do terrible things.” She folded her hands. “Your birth momma had a problem, and she left you with her folks when things were getting bad. She overdosed, but before she died, she killed your dad in a fit of madness. It was a sad story, and the police covered it up to keep the drug trade safe. That’s about the only thing they have left that brings in money up in those hills.” Kennedy held her breath, afraid any sound might stop her grandmother from continuing.

“The paranoia came to a head when you had a dream. You were so little. Mary Lynn went overboard when you told her about it. The dream scared her. It took all he had to convince her that their shared faith would get them through and keep you safe. He convinced her that little girl dreams were just little girl dreams.”

“What did I dream?”

“You were a bear at a tea party.” Nan looked up at the picture of her son on the wall. “It’s the strangest thing to think of as a bad omen. It sounds like something harmless you saw in a picture book. After we got your father the boxed set of Beatrix Potter stories for his birthday, my boy dreamed of being Peter Rabbit. He wanted me to read that book to him every night. Did your mom and dad buy you books about bears?”

“Not even one.”

Kennedy felt queasy. Her stomach hadn’t been happy for the past few days. She was hoping it was a side effect of eating her friend’s couch. Sandy would come home today, and Kennedy was bracing herself for the inevitable yelling. When she burped, her mouth watered. The coffee wasn’t going to stay down. Cupping a hand over her mouth, she hurried out of the room and down the hall.

Nana rapped on the door. Her voice was gentle. “How long, Kendie? I used to get sick early in my pregnancies too.”

Kennedy was not trying to hear that. She held her hair back from her face as another wave removed every bit of coffee and the two cookies she had eaten from her body. She called out, “Not pregnant, Nan.”

“When was your last period, honey?”

Kennedy couldn’t remember. Before her trip, oh shit. She washed her face. When she came out of the bathroom, Nana was standing there with her purse over her arm. “We are going to the pharmacy.”

*

“No. No.” She sat on the toilet, willing the test to be negative. Why did they take so long? Each minute seemed like an eternity. A very faint second line came up. That could be good, right? The test might be false. A mark that light could be a fluke. She would take the second one.

When she came out of the bathroom, Nana was in the kitchen. She dried her hands on her apron. Her smile was gentle as she asked, “Am I pouring you a shot of whiskey or a shot of milk?” She said it the way her dad would have.

“Nan.” She handed her the two little sticks with their incriminating lines.

“Milk it is, Kendie.”

*

The screaming started at 6:30, left in messages on Kennedy’s phone. Sandy filled up her voicemail. Kennedy listened to each one like she was doing penance, but she did not answer her friend’s calls. The ones where Sandy cried were the hardest.