Page 41 of Old-Fashioned

“Birdie? Baby? Are you in here?” I called out.

My ears strained to hear any sound.

It was long moments before I caught something, and when I did, it felt as though my heart had been a piece of it, ripped off.

Sniffles.

I knew it was her.

Fucking knew it.

And I vowed right then and there to castrate the mother fucker that made my Birdie cry.

That, or find a way to sew a woman’s vagina shut.

I headed to where the sniffles were coming from, and lightly knocked on the bathroom door, “Birdie, baby?”

It took a few moments, but when I heard the lock on the door go, I slowly pushed it open, and repeated my vow in my head. Someone was either getting castrated, or a woman’s vagina was getting sewn up.

Seeing the tears that were tracking down her cheeks, I ignored pain in my knees when I dropped to them in front of her and asked, “What’s wrong Baby girl?”

Tentatively, I reached out and tried to wipe the tears away, but they just kept coming, my heart was breaking for her. When I saw her grit her teeth, I almost lost it, and then she mumbled one word, “Migraine.”

Not knowing how bad she had them, I asked, “What do you need?”

She sighed, and slowly said each word, “Quiet. Peace. Medicine.”

I lowered my voice to a whisper then, “Okay, Baby girl. I get it quiet out there, then I’ll take you home. Where’s your medicine?”

“I haven’t had time to pick up my medicine with all the doubles we’ve been pulling,” I was finding Tabitha’s replacement, the next person that interviewed and wasn’t another Jewell, they were getting hired.

Once she told me the pharmacy, I leaned in, and kiss her cheek, tasting the saltiness from her tears, I whispered, “Okay, sit here for me, Baby girl. I’ll be right back.”

Once I made sure she was good as she was for a just a few more minutes I headed out to the bar, and called out to Isla, “Yo.”

She raced to me with a worried look on her face, “What is it?”

“Shut the music off. Have everyone keep fucking quiet for the next ten fucking minutes. I don’t want to hear a fucking peep.”

She nodded even though I could see it on her face that she wanted to ask me what the fuck was going on.

Turning on my heel I headed back for the bathroom, all the while pulling out my phone, I called one of my brothers.

Baker answered on the second ring, “You never call me when the bar is open unless something has gone down. What's up?” I could hear the excitement in his tone. And I could also hear that he was sober. Thank fucking hell.

Sadly, for him, this wasn’t one of those phone calls.

“Need you to stop whatever it is you're doing and run to Keever’s as fast as you can and pick up a prescription for Birdie. Then bring it to the bar,” I told him as I stopped outside the bathroom door.

“Yeah man, text me her info.” And with that, he hung up.

Sending him the info I pocketed my phone and headed back inside the bathroom.

Hearing her retching I felt my heart clench. Fuck I felt like a piece of shit for not realizing sooner that she had been missing.

Grabbing some paper towels, wetting them, and then walking into the stall, I saw her hand had ahold of her hair as she leaned up from the toilet.

Stepping closer to her I used the wet paper towels, cleaned up her mouth, trashed them, then flushed for her. She didn’t need to be seeing whatever was coming out of her stomach, nor smelling it.