Chapter 45 - Red Ursa [https://cdn.midjourney.com/1a85e4f5-a138-43f5-9ca1-a968b1cf4bad/0_3.png]
While David snuck glances at her, Kennedy focused on the movie, ignoring him. It wasn’t that she felt no gratitude that he was here. She did. The gynecologist had been very clear about the need for more than one father. It was impossible for one man to be on watch 24/7. She couldn’t expect Terry to never sleep. Her lingering anger about the beat-down was impossible to shake. David had done nothing to stop the brutality.
The Vet had forgiven him as the punishment was happening, but not Kennedy. The two of them acted like old friends on the ride back to the cabin from the middle camp. Even knowing that, there was a part of her that wanted to kick David in the shin, no matter how many times he smiled at her or how tender his kisses had been in the pools.
If Terry had emailed David, then maybe he had emailed the cousins, too. She couldn’t imagine the redhead showing up, hat in hand, but the younger one with rough hands and earnest eyes might. Jeremiah. What would she say to her Nana if they both showed up? Red would scowl at everyone, sharp-tongued and opinionated next to his easy-going bear of a brother.
Unsure of what choice she should make, she spread her hand open on her flat belly. She felt the same as before, just tired. The life in her was tiny, not even the size of a bee. How could something that small cause so much havoc in her life? The tiny sparkle inside of her had the power to change her tides, and her very shape. She’d never thought of herself as a mother. It hadn’t seemed like that skill set ran in her family. Her mother was staring at David with thin lips, resisting his attempts at friendly conversation.
Kennedy’s Mother said, “So, what is it you do, young man?” Eyes narrowed with suspicion, she folded her arms across her chest. Mr. Pibble, choosing David’s lap over hers, didn’t seem to sit well with her.
The young man shifted on the couch, trapped between the two older women. “I work in the family business up on the mountain.”
Nana asked more amiably, “What kind of business?”
“Farming mostly, Mam. We have developed several products that sell well.”
Her Mom snorted. “On the mountain?”
“We grow the suppression herbs, and sometimes it’s best that we are hard to find. The sheep around here are sticky fingered by nature. Not all we grow is for them. We’ve taken strains of Red Ursa and bred them until we achieved plants that could thrive in our moist hot summers. Our varietals are still more bitter than those that ship out of Eastern Europe, but they are just as potent. We are working on the flavor profile. Our work has helped the entire bear community on the east coast live safely.”
Her Mom narrowed her gaze. “No wonder the smoothies I made this morning tasted like trash. Substandard product.”
“It saves lives.”
“So you claim. I didn’t see many children in town. Are you certain there aren’t costs associated with your strains?”
David let the barb slide past him without comment.
Frowning, her mother added, “It’s always been my understanding that the mountain pays for its mischief with a certain sheep-friendly product that is illegal in this state.” She reached across the arm of the couch to Kennedy’s hand and twined her fingers in hers. Surprised, Kennedy gave her hand a gentle squeeze. It had been a long time since she felt her mother’s touch as something comforting. She and Nana had been clear that they would support whatever choice she made.
Turning toward him, Nana asked David, “Is there any chance you make the medicine that takes the hard bite out of pain?”
He considered. “We grow a weed strain called Winder Blue. It’s a line that’s been forked toward reducing inflammation and nerve irritation. There are pharmacies in California that pay a high penny for it. Without our weed production, we couldn’t afford to produce Red Ursa. It’s very time-intensive to harvest and the bushes produce low volumes of product. Ba prioritized making suppression tea available to the entire community, even if it meant a loss.”
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Kennedy’s Mom couldn’t let it go. “So you admit you are part of the weed cult?”
“We aren’t a cult, Mam. We would just prefer not to die out.” David shifted uneasily. “And we have to have a crop that provides the funds to grow local medicine. What we grow isn’t the same as the European strains of Red Ursa. Our winters are too short and our summers too wet. Our berries are fine though, smaller, about the size of a blueberry, and similar in color. They taste more bitter than the European ones, as you found out. If you add a bit of sweetener, it’s good. America isn’t a safe place to have our young folk slipping skin unchecked.”
His words surprised Kennedy’s Mom. “I thought the ridge berries weren’t strong enough to hold a shift at bay during pregnancy.”
“The last fifteen years, we have made a lot of progress. We’ve had some successful crosses. Most locals use our product instead of buying from overseas. They pay what they can, we help those that can’t.”
Withdrawing her hand from Kennedy’s, her Mom turned her full attention toward David. “You didn’t bring any of that pain medicine, did you?”
“I did, Mam. Terry might have mentioned your hip.” His smile was quirky and authentic. Being able to tolerate her mother and navigate her hostility was a mark in his favor.
Kennedy snorted. Her Mom had been sober a long time, she cared little for the idea of that changing. The first two years after her father’s death had been a nightmare of morphine and isolation. “Mom, are you sure that is a good idea?”
“It’s just weed, Kendie, don’t make it a big deal.”
“But…” Her mother had always made it a big deal when she smoked weed. She’d been on restriction for two months, the one time her mother had found a joint in her dresser. Just like her mother, different rules for herself than everyone else.
David’s earnest face turned toward Kennedy. “Don’t worry, it won’t make her high… or not much. I won’t give her none if you say no. You are the one carrying. You got the final say.” Her mom’s lips pursed sourly.
Kennedy shrugged. “She is a grown woman.”
As David helped her Mother get up off the couch, her hips resisted an easy stand. The two of them headed to the front porch. As she watched her mother limp along, a frustrated sigh seeped out of Kennedy.
“Your Mother never was one to focus on anything but herself for long.” Nana whispered after the front door to the cabin clicked shut. She scooted over on the couch and claimed the hand that her mother had abandoned. “Isn’t that boy dangerous if his family deals in drugs?”
Brushing her thumb across her Nan’s paper soft skin, Kennedy said, “It’s a little different up here, Nan. It’s part of the culture. And as far as I can tell, everyone is dangerous. Even me.”
“I don’t think so. You have always been a sweet girl.”
“What if Sandy had come home? I could have hurt her.”
Without skipping a beat, her grandmother changed the topic, “Isn’t the mountain what your Mother ran from?”
“Not really, but I don’t think I understand enough of what is happening to explain the difference.” Kennedy settled deeper into her chair, not having an answer to give her Nan. She felt comfortable just sitting still, holding her Nana’s hand like she had when she was little. “Their weed business seems a small thing when I try to look at the whole of my life right now. Their product might even be legal. Medicinal. I don’t know.”
“You could fix this, Kendie. End the pregnancy, go back to work, maybe start school. Your Dad wanted that for you. He did all he could to keep you out of this backcountry mess. Nobody would blame you for waiting for a better time to figure this out.”
“I am the mess, Nan. I’m the one who eats her friend’s couches and turns into a bear. Do you know how long I lasted in college? Less than a semester. I can’t even sleep in the house with you without putting you in danger.”
“Once the baby is gone, that wouldn’t be a worry.”
The way Nan said it made the choice seem simple. Like leaving a pie on a windowsill to cool.
“Turning into a bear sometimes would still be a worry. I don’t think this is something that can be undone.”
“If you have this baby, Kendie, you will never be free.”
“I never was free, just lost and aimless. What was I doing with my life, anyway? It’s not like the Mega Mart won’t do fine without me. Somebody else is already wearing my name tag, waiting for their own to come in.” She didn’t want to think about getting rid of the baby. “Nan, I’m going to take the truck into town.”
“Wait, why? It’s too early to pick up Terry. I could drive you somewhere.”
Retreating from the living room, Kennedy lifted the strap of her purse off the hook in the hall. “I need a minute away,. It’s too much with everyone worrying about me and looking at me, wanting things.”
“I don’t want anything, Kendie.”
“Yeah, you do, and it’s okay. I understand. I just need a little space. There is a store in town. I could pick up some things. Maybe some steaks.” Terry had slipped her money before he left for work. She had tried to push the cash back into his hands, but he was stubborn. It had been too much, enough to cover the procedure if she ended things. But she wasn’t doing that. Not yet. She was going to buy some steaks.