In Place of Never (3 page)

Nadya and Nicolae were the elders of the group. They had several children, Beau, Anton, Tom, and Rose.
Anton
. I ground my teeth. I’d never met anyone named Anton until today and yet I’d never suspected him as a Lovell. They hadn’t been here in so long.

I shut my eyes. What was I doing?
Questioning the Lovells about something so personal and so long ago was the silly conviction of a fourteen-year-old. Even if they remembered something about a girl near the river, how would it matter? I shut the windows on my computer screen and pulled in a cleansing breath. I shouldn’t go. Shouldn’t get my hopes up. Maybe I shouldn’t even want to know.

Pru’s music cut out.

“Thank you.” I pulled the earbuds free.

My heart seized before my mind processed her scream. I barreled headlong down the steps toward Pru’s room, terrified of what I’d find. What if she was hurt? I couldn’t lose her. Not her too. My ankle rolled, spilling me into the hall outside her open door. “Pru!”

I gasped as the scene before me took shape. Dad had a boy by his elbow, dragging him into the hall as I scurried out of their way. Pru held a quilt to her chest, bare arms poking out on either side. Her ruined ringlets fuzzed over her shoulders. Tears stained her cheeks. “I hate you!” Her voice cracked. “I hate you! You’re never here. What are you even doing here? My life is none of your business!”

She wasn’t hurt. My chest heaved and dropped. I tilted my face to heaven for a quick “thank you” and hobbled into her room, securing the door behind me. I’d help the boy in a minute, assuming Pru was a willing participant. If not, I’d help Dad dig a hole.

“Not you.” She face-planted onto her bed, quilt-first, in nothing but panties.

I threw a blanket over her. “So.” I dragged the word out several syllables.

She screamed into the bed.

“What were you doing?”

Pru turned her face to better scowl at me. “We were trying on my clothes and Dad got the wrong idea.”

I nodded in mock acceptance. “Yep. Yep. I can see how that could happen. Did your bra fit him okay, then?”

Pru snorted and buried her face again. “Shut up. Go away. This is none of your business.”

I waffled. Who was I to stay if she didn’t want me?

Who would stay with her if I left?

I tossed her clothes onto the bed. “I hope you used protection.”

Pru shot upright, clutching the quilt. “I hate you.” Her words lost their heat. “We weren’t having sex. I’m saving myself for marriage.”

I rolled my eyes. “Right.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

I frowned. As if any guy in this town would touch me. “No.”

“I can’t tell if you’re lying.”

“Get dressed.”

She scoffed. “Whatever. Just go.”

I moved to the doorway and slid out, hoping she didn’t really hate me. “I’m not saving myself.”

The door clicked shut and I took a deep breath. Pru would survive. Her reputation might not, but she was resilient. She could probably spin this to her benefit.

I edged closer to the door beside hers. My old room.

A gentle touch of my fingertips dislodged the door and it creaked open on tired hinges. No one went in there. Not anymore. The pink and white stripes looked as inviting as Faith and I had hoped they would. Twin canopy beds stood along the back wall. Matching vanities and dressers pressed against the opposite wall. One bed had white eyelet comforters and pillowcases. Mine. The other was decked out in our school colors. Faith’s color-guard pillow lay on the floor by my vanity, right where she’d left it after beaning me in the head with it that night. It was the last night I’d stayed there.

Photos of us clung to the vanity mirrors. I forced my feet forward and stopped at Faith’s mirror. Her perfume had permeated the fabrics of the closed room. She was everywhere. I freed a close-up snapshot of us, cheeks pressed together, smiling as though we’d grow old and babysit one another’s kids someday. I caressed her face with one thumb, regretting the decision to come inside our old room. It hurt in here.

Dad’s voice bellowed through the house. His angry bark snapped me back to the crisis at hand. Prudence hadn’t earned her name today, and Dad, therefore, had failed as both pastor and parent. I wound my way down the next flight of steps and peered into the kitchen.

A boy with good hair and bad skin sat at our kitchen table looking a little pissed. His shirt was on, but he hadn’t bothered to straighten it or pull it over his flat, freckled stomach. Dad’s eye twitched. He’d blamed a boy for breaking Faith’s heart, or I assumed as much based on a number of Sunday morning sermons about the perils of teen romance.
Teens aren’t ready for the ramifications and heartbreak of first love.
I supposed he assumed a broken heart was the reason she had gone out alone that night. His theory hadn’t given me much motivation to find love, ever. Maybe that was the point. Apparently the tale hadn’t affected Pru.

“Dad?” I went to the sink and poured a glass of water.

He pressed his fists against his hips. “Mercy, this doesn’t concern you.”

“I know.” He was right. I had no right to push my way into their lives after avoiding them for so long. So, why did it feel so important? “I just thought you’d want a witness.”

Both sets of eyes jumped to catch my gaze.

“I mean, just in case...”

Dad’s shoulders slumped. “This isn’t my first rodeo, darling. I’ve already contacted Jason’s parents. They’re on their way and we’ll talk about this together.”

Right. Of course he’d wait for the parents. Protocol for ministry was engraved in his brain. I grabbed the stack of unpaid bills on my way out. “I’ll put the mail with your Bible.”

“Thank you.”

I eased through the kitchen doorway with one backward glance. Whatever Pru saw in Jason eluded me. Maybe he had a good personality, but the way he sat cocked sideways and tipped back in the kitchen chair reeked of disrespect and attitude. His obnoxious bright red high-tops probably cost more than half my wardrobe. If Dad jerked the chair leg and upset Jason, I’d cover for him.

“Mercy?” Dad’s voice was calm, almost pleasant. “Can you ask Pru to get down here, please?”

“Yep.”

I didn’t have to go far. Pru stood on the bottom step. She at least had the decency to look embarrassed, if not ashamed. Dad had seen her boobs and her underpants. Personally, I’d never leave the house again, but this was Pru and, from the rigidity in her form, I’d guess she was angry with him for barging in. He’d probably knocked three times first, but she never would’ve heard him over the music.

I lifted a thumb over one shoulder. “Dad wants you.”

She crunched her face at me as I passed on my way back upstairs. Whatever she’d planned for tonight was most definitely canceled now. Dad hadn’t been so worked up since Faith got busted sneaking a guy into our room when I was thirteen. Dad had threatened to move me into Pru’s room and put a lock on Faith’s door. On the outside.

Ten minutes later, Jason’s parents arrived. I listened from the privacy of my room. Dad was a gracious host. He made coffee and offered some cheese and grapes from the fridge. It went downhill from there.

Jason’s dad’s voice boomed through the house. “Stop pushing your religion onto our family, preacher.”

“This isn’t about the church.” Dad’s counseling voice was in gear. “It’s about protecting the children.”

Jason’s mom barked a high-pitched laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I provide our son with
protection
. He’s a responsible sixteen-year-old with all the facts and a mind of his own.”

I imagined Dad swallowing his tongue at the revelation of Jason’s age and accessibility to condoms. Pru was never leaving the house again.

The doorbell rang and the house stilled.

I shuffled toward the door, glad for a reason to get a better position inside the house. “I’ll get it.” Old air vents carried sounds well, but a first-floor seat was better.

When I grabbed the doorknob, Dad was in the middle of insisting his “girls are respectable young women with high moral values and equally high expectations for their suitors.”

Oh, yes. We had oh-so-many suitors. Pru was only fifteen and I’d never had a real boyfriend. I opened the door with a snort.

The guy on our porch stared at me from a solid six-inch difference in height. “You dropped this earlier.” He handed me something that looked a lot like my wallet.

“Uh.” I pinched the soaking-wet wallet between my thumb and first finger, as if it might explode.

Dad’s voice boomed behind me. “Mercy? Who’s this young man?” His voice hitched on the word “young.” Cross was at least eighteen, maybe twenty.

“Uh.” I turned to face the crowd gathering behind me.

Pru’s snide smile irked me. “Yeah, Mercy. Who’s your friend?”

I squirmed though I hadn’t done anything wrong. Not unless unwittingly consorting and receiving flowers from mysterious traveling-sideshow men counted as a crime. Still, Dad wouldn’t be happy if he knew I’d spoken to Cross, especially if he recognized him from the banner outside Red’s. I shot a pleading glance at the stranger on my porch.

“I’m Cross.” A rivulet of rain dropped from his bangs and swiveled over his forehead.

Jason’s parents elbowed past me with Jason in tow. The cloud of perfume and cologne was enough to knock me aside, if I hadn’t moved willingly. Cross stepped away as they passed him on the porch. His guarded eyes swept over them, moving from one person to the next, like a scientist in a lab. The evaluating gaze caught in a few places before moving on to the next specimen.

Jason’s mom looked Cross over with appreciation before turning to Dad. “I can see why you were so concerned about your daughter and my Jason. He’s clearly the biggest problem your ‘morally upright’ daughters have.” She formed air quotes around Dad’s words.

The four of us stood in silence as Jason’s parents packed him in the car and reversed down our driveway.

Pru edged closer to Cross and me. She folded her arms, her drama already forgotten. “Why did you have Mercy’s wallet?”

I straightened my stance and spun on Pru, turning my back on the mysterious guy on our porch. My family’s long-stagnant emotions were on high for a bunch of reasons, none of which had anything to do with him. “I lost my wallet today when I went to see Faith and Mom.” Apparently.

Cross sidestepped into my periphery. He looked at me. “I found the wallet in a gutter on Main Street. I used the address on the license to return it.”

I swallowed hard. Oh, thank goodness. No mention of our brief introduction earlier. I breathed easier. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t look at anything else.”

“What?” I turned to face him and opened the wallet. It hadn’t occurred to me anything might be missing.

“If it was my wallet, I’d worry someone went through it.” His voice was low and smooth. “I didn’t. I only touched the license.”

Dad clapped one hand over Pru’s shoulder and pulled her away from the door. He dragged her around behind him and clasped his free hand on the doorjamb. “Thank you very much for returning my daughter’s wallet. I’m sorry if this seems rude, but we’re in the middle of something I feel I need to finish.”

Cross nodded. “Of course. Sorry for the intrusion.” His gaze dropped to me and lingered. “Have a good day.”

Dad closed the door in Cross’s face and gave me a warning look. The warning could’ve been for so many things. I decided it best to wait in my room and see if Pru needed anything. Walking through the bedroom I’d shared with Faith had rocked something loose in my heart. I’d been so busy mourning the loss of my big sister, I’d forgotten Pru needed one as much as I did.

The yelling began before I closed my bedroom door. I stuffed earbuds back into my ears and flopped onto the bed. Holding the wallet over my face, I checked the pockets and creases for all the things I’d hidden in the folds.

I wiggled my license free. Cross had said it was the only thing he’d touched. He’d kept my secret about meeting him today. Appreciation burned in my chest. Dad had had a rough enough day without knowing I’d spoken with two of the Lovells. Did Cross understand how much he’d saved me with that omission? I owed him a thank-you. Not that I’d talk to him again, but still.

I ran a thumb over my license. I was young in the picture, taken almost two years ago. Sad. Heavier. Soon, I’d be eighteen. Older than Faith. My fingers brushed over something stuck to the backside and I turned my license over. A folded sticky note with the Lovell logo and Cross’s name etched in rough pen strokes clung to the thick plastic ID. Beneath his name was a phone number.

An Invitation

No one left the house all day. After three years of politely avoiding one another, Dad and Pru had a head-on collision, and I was stuck as their unwilling spectator. Dad lectured Pru on the values of purity until his voice gave out and he went for a glass of water. His heavy footfalls reverberated through the house on his way to the kitchen. He commanded me to go to my room and I jumped.

“I’m
in
my room!”

Who needed the Lovell’s Traveling Sideshow? We had enough drama to charge admission at Pastor Porter’s house and it was loud. Not even my bootleg Beats could drown out Pru’s screaming and door slamming after Dad called the church camp and tried enrolling her. Lucky for Pru, it was late in the season and the cabins were full through the end of summer. Camp Purity filled up fast. I’d avoided camp, but Faith had gone twice and relayed the horrors of gender segregation, modest apparel in sweltering temperatures, and no air-conditioning. The camp was located across the river in Ohio and it was a no-cell-phone, no-Wi-Fi, be-still-and-appreciate-what-God created kind of camp. Pru wouldn’t have survived.

The screaming went on for hours. I hoped Dad’s heart would hold up. This was the worst day he’d had in years, and he didn’t look too good. If he stroked out on Pru and me, we were in trouble. No parents. No local family. I’d have to skip college and stay with Pru until she graduated. I couldn’t handle that.

For dinner, Dad ordered a pizza no one ate. He sat across from Pru with flushed cheeks and a frustration-creased forehead. I recognized this face. He wore the expression when he wrote his sermons. Dad was plotting.