Secrets in the Shadows (2 page)

“I love them, but I don’t want to be them. I want a life outside of hearth and home,” she’d told Lauren the last time they’d really talked, at the family’s Labor Day picnic the previous year.

Carl and Mary Margaret Vernon had the tendency to come across as superior when questioned about their beliefs. When Margie had expressed interest in going to college to become a teacher, they were taken aback. They couldn’t understand where her independent streak came from and dismissed her wants and desires, blaming outside influences for her disregard of the traditional woman’s role.

Lauren, whose parents always encouraged her and supported her dreams, was infuriated, but Margie brushed aside her concern.

“I’ll keep my head down and let them think I’m toeing the line. When I turn eighteen, I’ll be ready to go to college, and they won’t be able to stop me.” She learned to keep her ideals and opinions to herself, quietly planning the course her future would take. Then, a few months after her sixteenth birthday, it happened.

She’d been so shocked the first time, she almost thought she’d imagined it. But there had been the blood and the soreness.

When her father had sneaked into her bedroom that night, it seemed funny at first. After all, she loved her father, trusted him. He made a joke out of it, at least in the beginning. By the time she realized he wasn’t playing, that it wasn’t a game, her innocence was gone forever.

“There’s no need to tell your mother about this, you know. I gave her something to help her sleep tonight. This can be our secret. Something we can share. It’s not like anyone would believe you, anyhow.” He patted her on the head and left.

She waited a long time before easing out of bed and into the bathroom down the hall, where she proceeded to scrub her skin until it was raw. When she got back to her bedroom, she crawled into the other bed, the one Lauren used when she visited. She never slept in her old bed again after that, and she had never allowed him to use her in the other one.

Checking her gas gauge, she saw that it was closing in on empty. She decided to pull off at the next exit and refuel, maybe stretch her legs a little bit. She’d been driving since midnight the night before and, as she swerved a little on the exit ramp, she realized she should probably find someplace to get some sleep. Signs on the ramp pointed toward a seedy chain motel, and she aimed the car in that direction. With very little effort, just a little flash of cleavage and a fake ID, she had herself a room. She didn’t even turn on the light; just shut the door, closed the curtains, and fell on the bed.

~
* ~

When Margie awoke several hours later, she was starving. Sitting up, she felt a pressing need to visit the bathroom. While in there, she went ahead and took a shower. Despite her best efforts, her mind kept returning to home.

She’d been in a downward spiral for several weeks, ever since she discovered that she was pregnant. Apparently, that spiral had been fodder for the family grapevine. Her mother had been livid when she found out.

“You’ve shamed us with your behavior, girl. You’re no good, a bad seed. I’ve called the pastor about you and your whorish ways, and he’s found a man who’ll take you. You’re going to marry him, and I’ll wash my hands of you.”

Margie laughed in her face. “Old woman, I won’t marry some man you pick out for me. I’m seventeen years old now, and you can’t touch me.”

Mary Margaret slapped her so hard, she’d knocked Margie down. “‘Honor thy father and mother,’ the Good Book says. Satan himself has hold of you.”

With a sneer, Margie got to her feet, blotting away the blood from her split lip. “I do honor my father. I honor him every night, when he comes to my bed.”

Margie thought her mother might have killed her on the spot, if her father hadn’t come into the kitchen at that moment.

The annual family reunion took place three long weeks afterward in Madison, Indiana. The day was etched into her mind, a scar that shone brightly alongside several others. Though Margie had planned to leave at the end of summer, she hadn’t been planning the rest. Everything changed that day—the day she’d started plotting her cousin’s downfall.

Margie had been on pins and needles for several days. Her lip had healed, and she was running on pure nerves. The day of the family reunion dawned bright and sunny, a day completely opposite the somber and sullen mood of the Vernon family as they piled in the car and motored down to the state park.

They’d arrived early, like always, helping the others set up for the expected crowd. She’d run into Molly and Winston Taylor, Lauren’s parents, almost as soon as they got there.

“Margie, honey, it’s so good to see you. How are you?” Molly hugged her tightly, then drew back to study her. “You’ve lost some weight, and I swear you’re two inches taller.”

Margie smiled, trying to mask her dismay. “I’m okay, Aunt Molly. Where’s my cuz?”

“She’s coming up a little later with her brother. She was working late into the evening, tutoring one of her classmates in algebra. I know she’s anxious to see you. The two of you haven’t had much of a chance to visit with each other lately.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing her, too.”

They walked to Molly’s van to get the casseroles she’d brought. “Did you bring your bag to go back with us for a week?”

Margie’s gaze flew to hers. “No. I didn’t know if you’d want me this year.”

Lauren’s mother frowned. “Why in the world not? Look, we know you’ve had some problems lately, but you’ll always be welcome in our home. You know that.”

She had almost broken down then and there and confessed everything. If her mother hadn’t hollered across the picnic grounds at her, she might have begged for help. But Mary Margaret had yelled, and the moment was lost.

A couple of hours later, Lauren pulled up and let her brother, Tristan, out with several bags full of supplies. Before Margie could reach her car, Lauren left.

“Where’d she go?” Margie asked Tristan.

Tristan grinned. “Hey, Margie. She can’t find a place to park. She’s going back up the road a little ways.” He loped off toward the shelters with the bags, and Margie decided to walk up the road and meet Lauren. Before she reached the main road through the park, however, a large pick-up truck pulled up alongside her. The driver was a man she’d seen at parties around town.

“Hey, babe. Fancy meeting you here.”

With an inward groan, she leaned against the truck, a fake smile plastered on her face. “Yeah, fancy that. What’re you doing out here?”

He reached out and touched her shoulder with a suggestive caress. “Oh, just looking for something to do. You available?”

She’d swallowed against the bile that rose at the suggestion, looking down to conceal her eyes. Having practiced in the mirror, she knew the move looked flirtatious. “That depends. Do you have any reason I should be?”

His smile was cocky. “I have fifty reasons you should be.”

She backed up a step. “Then why don’t you park this truck and follow me?”

He did just that, pulling into the grass to park illegally, and as they crossed the parking lot, Margie saw Lauren duck into the restroom. Inspired, she took her ‘date’s’ hand and dragged him in that direction.

“Oh, kinky.”

“Give me the money.” She held out her hand, and he handed her a fifty-dollar bill.

They went into the largest stall, and she let him have her. Thankfully, most men didn’t seem to last long when they had to perform in situations like this. She’d been pimping out her body for a couple months now and had quite a stash of money saved up. It was tremendously ironic; the body that had been her downfall providing her with the means to escape, hopefully. She didn’t even bother asking him to don a condom. As far as she was concerned, her life was over. It wasn’t as if she could get more pregnant.

When he was finished, the man zipped his pants. “Baby, I heard you were a good ride. I gotta say, you were worth every penny.”

She cleaned herself up with toilet paper then opened the stall door. “I’ll go first and make sure it’s clear. Wait here until I look. If we get caught—”

“Yeah, I know. You aren’t exactly legal now, are you, darlin’? I haven’t got any desire to end up in jail, even for a nice piece like you.”

She made sure the coast was clear, then ushered him out of the building. Once in the parking lot, they went their separate ways. Thinking about Lauren, who had been quiet as a mouse the entire time they’d been inside, she felt her mouth twist in a tight grimace.

For so long, Margie hadn’t had an outlet for her anger. She loathed her parents, of course, but her situation at home was precarious. She had to be careful how much hostility she showed, at least until it was time for her to leave. Lauren, however, made the perfect target. Her cousin represented everything Margie no longer had—good grades, loving parents, a normal life. It served Miss Goody-Two-Shoes right, being stuck inside a public restroom while strangers had sex.

~
* ~

After getting a quick meal at a nearby diner, she hit the road again, heading for Georgia and the cousin. She’d made it to Tennessee before collapsing that morning, and only had a few more hours to go until she reached her destination.

During the last couple of weeks, Lauren had tried repeatedly to get her to tell her what was going on. Margie steadfastly refused. They spent the first week at Lauren’s, and the second at Margie’s.

The first night they were back, Margie’s father approached her with a proposition. “Look, I know you’re pregnant. You can’t hide it much longer, and I don’t want to have to answer any more uncomfortable questions. It’s been bad enough the last few months, explaining your behavior. But I have a plan that will get both of us something we want.” To an outsider, they looked like any father and daughter, standing at the fencerow, having a talk in the fading twilight.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I know about your little boyfriend. Did you really think you could hide him from me?” He snickered. “Anyhow, I want you to get the hell out of here. I bet you want out, too. You don’t want him to find out about us, what you really are. If you do something for me, I’ll not only not tell him your dirty little secret, I’ll give you five hundred dollars. Cash.”

“I’m interested. What do you want me to do?”

He held out his hand, a white, oblong pill in its center. “Two nights from tonight, slip this to your cousin. It’ll knock her out and she won’t remember a thing. I’ll give your mother one and, once they’re out, you leave. Then I’ll have some fun, and nobody will be the wiser.”

Margie felt sick at the suggestion. “I won’t do that. You’re crazy.”

Her father laughed. “No? Then I guess I’ll go have a talk with this boy you think you love so much.”

She didn’t know that he was aware of her relationship with Travis Tyler. She had met him back in the winter at a party and they’d hit it off. Sure, the sex was good, but more importantly, he treated her well. They talked to each other, and he cared about her, or at least he had, until she had broken it off with him a few weeks earlier. Still, she didn’t want Travis to know about her relationship with her father.

“You’ll wear a condom? You won’t get her pregnant?”

When he placed his hand on her shoulder, it took everything in her to not pull away. Knowing other people might be watching though, she held still. “Do you think I want her father over here asking questions?”

Margie shook her head.

“Smart girl. I’ll wear a condom, and I’ll clean her up after I’m done. She won’t have a clue that anything happened.”

She took the pill from him and, two nights later, she crushed it, putting it in a milkshake she made for Lauren. Once her cousin was asleep, she grabbed the bag she’d packed, along with Lauren’s car keys and money, and slipped out. Her father was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“She’s out?”

Mutely, she nodded.

“That’s my girl.” He handed her the money and a slip of paper. “That has the name and address of one of my cousins on it. He owes me a favor, and he’s expecting you. He’ll get you a new car that can’t be traced, and he won’t ask questions.”

She looked at the paper, which had an address in Georgia. “Then where do I go?”

He shrugged. “I don’t care. Just go on and get out of here. Don’t ever come back.”

Her emotions frozen, she walked out the door, got in Lauren’s little car, and drove away. She didn’t look back once.

Thirteen years later…

Lauren Taylor Grant was setting up the snack trays for the Ladies Business League meeting when that month’s hostess, Beth Hudson, rushed into the room, breathless and apologetic. They were holding the meeting in the boardroom at the offices of the
Olman County Journal
, the newspaper at which Beth worked as a reporter.