The Boarding House (15 page)

“I want you to pray for me.”

He kept looking at her face, imagining what she had endured. “Consider it done.”

“And not to mention what happened to me to anyone else.”

“Of course.”

He assumed she’d already dealt with hospitals and police. It never occurred to him that she’d faced it all alone.

“Where’s your Daddy?”

“Getting a flat fixed.”

The answer was as incongruous as his absence in the face of such a trauma.

Ellie could hear the sounds of approaching footsteps. Unwilling to involve herself in a more in-depth conversation, she headed straight for the pew where she and Daddy always sat—in the spot where the sun came through the Jesus window.

She scooted past a couple on the end of the pew, pretending not to hear their shocked gasps, ignoring the tentative touches and murmurs of concern as she slid into the patch of light.

The news of her condition spread through the congregation in hisses and whispers. Ellie heard them, but couldn’t invest herself in shame when she’d come here to find peace.

Ellie’s car was gone.

It was the first thought that went through Garrett’s mind as he came up the driveway. The second was that she’d run away. He parked in a panic and ran into the house, then down the hall to her room. His note was wadded up on the floor and the door was standing ajar.

“No, no, no.”

He headed for the closet to see what she’d taken. To his relief, her clothes were still there. He moved to the bed and tore off the covers. When he saw the blood spots staining the sheets, his stomach rolled. He’d done that. He’d done that to his precious love.

He went into the bathroom next, looking for clues, and saw that she’d taken a shower, but frowned when he saw the clothes and towel still on the floor. That wasn’t like Ellie. She was always neat, especially after she’d brought Sophie into their world.

He picked everything up and put it all in the hamper, then went back through the house in long anxious strides, looking for anything that would tell him where she’d gone. It occurred to him that she might have had to work, then remembered it was Sunday. The ice cream shop didn’t open until after church.

Church?

His stomach rolled. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t have.

Son of a holy bitch.

He was running when he got to the car, then tore off down the street to see for himself if she had indeed taken herself to church.

He could hear the swell of organ music as he pulled into the parking lot. Services were already in progress. He glanced at his watch. It was after eleven. Maybe he’d jumped the gun. Maybe she wasn’t here after all. And then he saw her car parked in the shade of the great oaks lining the curb and felt like throwing up.

Her eye and lip had been a little swollen when he’d put her in bed around midnight, and there was the beginnings of a faint bruise on her face. Maybe she’d covered it with makeup. Surely she wouldn’t show her face if it was bad.

He thought about going inside to join her, then realized he wasn’t dressed properly—and there was that fear of the unknown. How would she have excused his absence?

Still, it was comforting to know she hadn’t run away, that she was simply in the house of God like all good girls should be.

Relieved that his worst fears had not been true, Garrett decided to go home and make them a good dinner. He would apologize for not believing her and everything would be alright.

Convinced that he’d panicked for nothing, Garrett drove away from the church, unaware Ellie had taken the first step in unraveling their world.

The last notes of organ music
still hung in the air as Preacher Ray walked up to the pulpit. Ellie watched him lay his Bible down, but instead of opening it up to a passage upon which he intended to preach, he gripped the sides of the pulpit then looked out into the congregation—straight into her eyes.

All the hair rose on Ellie’s arms. For a moment, it felt as if he was pouring his love and energy into her. She held her breath. Then he looked away and the feeling was gone. A few moments later he began to preach.

Ellie closed her eyes, waiting for the hollow feeling in her belly to go away, but it didn’t happen. She looked down into her lap. The colors that had been there only moments before were gone. The sun must have gone behind a cloud. She tried not to take it as an omen, but nothing was going the way she’d planned.

She’d come to church expecting to be healed in spirit, if not in body, but she was getting mixed signals. Even though she chose not to panic, she wasn’t getting a good feeling about this. Now might be a good time to pray.

God, You know what Daddy did. I wish one of us was dead. Personally, I don’t care which one of us You take. Amen.

After that, she sat quietly, waiting for the sun to come back, but it never did. Even God had turned His face away.

When church was over, she had no option but to walk along the aisle with all the others as they made their way to the exit. She’d known these people all her life. It stood to reason they would be concerned. One after the other, the same question was asked.

“My goodness, Ellie Wayne, what on earth has happened to you? Are you alright?”

And one after the other, she ignored the first part of their question, and answered the last. “No, I’m not.”

By the time she got to her car she was exhausted. The sky was dark and threatening rain and she didn’t feel restored in any sense of the word. Just as she started the engine, the heavens opened. No little drops to signal what was coming—just a sudden downpour. Depression settled over her as she turned on her windshield wipers and started home.

The thought of going back into that house seemed impossible. She’d been shocked to her core by her Daddy’s rage. There was no way for her to know how he was going to react when she got home, but it was something of a relief to realize she didn’t care.

She remembered Momma telling Ellie when she’d become scared of a storm that rain was only angel’s tears. She didn’t put much faith in that being the case, but if it was so, then she would like to think the angels might be crying for her, because she was holding too much hate to do it for herself.

Garrett was in the kitchen
putting the finishing touches on their meal when he thought he heard the front door open.

“Ellie, is that you?”

Ellie set the umbrella on the covered porch to drip dry and was closing the door behind her when Garrett entered the room.

“Dinner is nearly—”

She turned around.

The words died in the back of Garrett’s throat. His mind went blank.

Ellie took off her muddy shoes at the doorway. “I can’t chew, so unless it’s soup, you’ve wasted your time.”

“Oh shit. Oh, Ellie. I’m sorry. I don’t—”

“Shut up, Daddy. Just shut up. The only thing you’re sorry about is that what you did to me left marks. I’m going to my room to get out of these wet clothes.”

Garrett swayed as if she’d just punched him in the face. “You went to church looking like that.”

She managed to smile, even though it hurt. “Ahh
 . . .
so you did go looking for me. Did you check my room first to see if I’d run away?”

The look on his face gave him away. “Did anyone ask you what
 . . .
did they say any—”

“Preacher Ray asked me what happened.”

Garrett started to shake. “What did you tell him?”

“That I’d been raped.”

Garrett grunted. “No you didn’t.”

“Yes, Daddy, I did. You taught me not to lie. Too bad you didn’t remember that last night. I told the truth then, just like I’m telling it now.”

His mind raced. Should he make a run for it, or stay and face arrest?

Ellie could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out how to handle what she’d told him.

“I didn’t tell him that you did it, but only because he didn’t ask,” Ellie said.

Garrett shuddered, then staggered toward a chair to keep from falling. “What did he say to you?”

“He asked how he could help. I told him to pray for me. I also asked him not to tell what happened.”

Garrett’s head felt like it was going to explode. He had underestimated his daughter in every way. “Oh my God
 . . .
what did the others say? All our friends and neighbors? What must they have thought?”

Ellie threw a shoe. It missed his chin and hit his chest.

“What the hell?”

“You are one sorry son of a bitch. You’re worried about what people are thinking, but you haven’t once asked about me. You didn’t ask me if my breasts hurt where you bit them. You didn’t ask if my lily was still bleeding, or if I could see out of this eye. You are disgusting, and if you ever come near me again I will wait until you are asleep and then I will kill you. I will cut you up into so many little pieces that they’ll have to bury you in a sack.”

She threw her other shoe for punctuation and walked away.

Bile rose at the back of Garrett’s throat. He stood up, but he didn’t follow. She’d made her feelings plain. He retraced his steps into the kitchen and then turned off the stove and got his car keys and jacket. Walmart opened at noon on Sundays and he was going to need a lock for the inside of his door or he’d never be able to close his eyes again.