Page 23 of Bourbon Girl: part 5 of 6
Her expression hardened. "I do what I have to in order to make ends meet."
"Does that include stealing?" The accusation burst out before I could stop it. "Because I hope you got good money for the things you took from my van. Those items meant a lot to me."
Marilyn's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You shouldn't be so careless with your things. Leaving your van unlocked in a campground full of strangers? That's just asking for trouble."
So she was admitting it. The confirmation somehow made it worse—knowing for certain that she'd violated my space, rifled through my belongings, taken things that mattered simply because she could.
"You had no right—"
"Hey there, ladies." Teddy's voice cut through our confrontation. He shambled toward us from the direction of his tent.
Marilyn's entire demeanor shifted. The haughty confidence evaporated, replaced by something that looked almost like fear. She straightened, her body language suddenly defensive.
"You should tell him to leave you alone," I said quietly, watching the tension radiate from her.
Marilyn's laugh was harsh and brittle. "Teddy takes care of me."
"Takes care of you?" I stared at her. "You told me you could take care of yourself. Remember? That whole speech about not needing anyone?"
Something flashed in Marilyn's eyes—shame, maybe, or anger at being called out on her contradiction. Teddy reached us, immediately sliding an arm around Marilyn's waist withpossessive familiarity. She didn't lean into him, but she didn't pull away either.
"Everything alright here?" Teddy asked, his tone falsely jovial. His eyes moved between us, assessing.
"Everything's fine," Marilyn said quickly. Then, as if to prove a point, she turned and gave Teddy a big kiss—deliberate, theatrical, designed to make a statement. When she pulled back, she grabbed his hand and started leading him away from me.
She threw me a defiant look over her shoulder, her middle finger raised in unmistakable dismissal. The gesture was juvenile and petty, but it accomplished its goal—establishing that she'd chosen whatever toxic arrangement they had over any potential alliance with me.
I watched them walk toward Teddy's tent, Marilyn's forced laughter carrying across the parking lot. She was performing for me, trying to prove she had power, had choices, had control. But everything about her body language screamed the opposite.
Standing there in my stupid barmaid costume, I felt an unexpected pang of pity for Marilyn. We were both doing what we had to do to survive, both making compromises that probably looked pathetic from the outside. The difference was that I recognized my situation for what it was—temporary, transitional, a means to an end.
Marilyn seemed trapped in hers, unable or unwilling to see a way out.
November 22, Saturday
age statementthe declared age of the youngest bourbon in a bottle
THE EXHAUSTIONhit me before I even reached the van, a bone-deep weariness that came from smiling through another full day of tours while my life crumbled beneath the surface. I'd managed to keep my voice steady, my accent consistent, my bourbon facts accurate. But the moment the last tourist departed, the mask slipped completely.
I was fantasizing about collapsing onto my narrow bed when I spotted Poppy hurrying across the gravel toward me. She clutched a white envelope in her hand, waving it like a flag.
"Bernadette! This came for you today!" Her face glowed with excitement. "It's from Arizona!"
My heart stuttered. I'd almost forgotten about the application I'd submitted months ago—back when finding my father had seemed like a straightforward quest, before Boyd Biggs and DNA tests and devastating revelations.
I took the envelope from Poppy's outstretched hand. The return address confirmed it: Tucson Community College, Office of Admissions.
"Well?" Poppy bounced on her toes. "Open it!"
My fingers trembled as I tore open the envelope, pulling out the folded letter inside. The words swam before my eyes for a moment before coming into focus:
Dear Ms. Waters,
We are pleased to inform you that your application to complete your undergraduate degree has been accepted...
Accepted. They'd accepted me.
...classes begin the first week of January. Your previous credits have been evaluated and you will enter as a junior with standing...
