Read The Boarding House Online
Authors: Sharon Sala
The Boarding House (6 page)
He’d been blindsided. They’d both blindsided him, and he was mad. But he had a plan. All he needed to make it work was time. Plus, he needed to talk to Ellie. She had to understand there were ways to protect herself now. But when he turned the doorknob of her room and the door didn’t give, he couldn’t believe it. It only took seconds to realize Fern had put a lock on his daughter’s door. Son of a bitch! She’d locked him out of his daughter’s life.
This only added to Garrett’s fury. Fern’s holier-than-thou attitude was one thing, but separating him from his daughter was crossing a line. They didn’t understand. None of them understood. He’d never violated her. She was still a virgin. Yes, they’d played games, but he had not violated his child. Still, he knew the scope of his transgressions covered a very gray area and he was treading on thin ice.
He crept past Ellie’s door and into his own bedroom while giving Fern’s a wide berth. Her reaction had shocked him to the core. He hadn’t known she’d had that much passion in her. There had been a moment when, despite her vow to the opposite, he’d thought he was dead. He downed some pain pills, shed his bloody clothes, letting them lie where they fell, and crawled into bed.
It had been years since Fern had bothered to go to church on a regular basis, but now she and Ellie sat in their pew every Sunday whether Garrett went or not. He didn’t like the new Fern, and he missed his relationship with Ellie, although he had only himself to blame.
He bided his time, watching Ellie scurry through the house like a meek little mouse with Fern striding along beside her like an Amazon warrior, her hands doubled into fists if he happened to cross their paths. He felt like he was living in the fucking Twilight Zone.
The splint came off his nose after about three weeks, and the last hue of greenish-purple faded from beneath his eye about a week after that. Doris didn’t work on weekends, and when Saturday came around, Garrett was ready. There would be no witnesses for what he intended. This was, by God, his house and his daughter, too, and he was taking them back.
That morning, he woke up to an empty house. It was the first chance he’d had to see exactly what kind of a lock Fern had put on Ellie’s door. When he saw it, he smiled. A couple of loose screws would put an end to that.
As much as he would have liked to stay in her room, there was more to be done. He crossed the hall into what had once been the master suite. Now it was Fern’s bedroom, and it had been years since he’d been inside. The array of religious icons was daunting. He was a believer, but this bordered on fanaticism.
After a quick glance outside to make sure he was still alone, he began going through Fern’s things, looking for her journal. Before he could implement his plan, he needed to remove any evidence that could mess up his plans.
He found the book in a drawer next to her bed and quickly flipped through the pages to see if she’d written about Ellie’s revelation, which of course she had. But it was the last page in the book that set the wheels in motion. Taking care not to leave fingerprints on the paper, he began to read.
Dear Ellie . . . my little Ellie . . . I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am. You didn’t deserve this, but it’s too late for words. I can’t ever make this right.
I’m so sorry. Momma
“On a silver freakin’ platter,” Garrett muttered as he tucked the journal under his arm, then headed into the bathroom to raid Fern’s pharmacy.
Across town, Fern and Ellie
came out of the supermarket with the shopping cart full of bags. Ellie pushed the cart as Fern dug for the car keys. They paused at the curb for a car to pass when, to Fern’s surprise, the driver honked. She looked up just in time to see a couple of teenagers drive past.
“Who was that?”
Ellie eyed the taillights of the car and shrugged. “I don’t know, Momma. Did you find your keys?”
Fern stared after the car, then turned and looked at Ellie. Her pretty baby-doll face was already changing—showing promises of the beauty she was turning out to be. Her body was taking shape from the thin, sickly child that she’d been, and when the breeze suddenly lifted Ellie’s hair away from her neck in an odd, almost sexy kind of way, Fern flinched. All of a sudden, she didn’t see her child, but the woman Ellie would become. The sight hit Fern like a bullet to the heart.
But this was her little Ellie—who was wearing a bra. This was her little Ellie—who’d begun to bleed. This was her little Ellie—who’d been fucking Fern’s husband.
It wasn’t a fair reaction, but Fern had never been known for rational thinking. She slapped Ellie across the face.
Quick tears sprang in Ellie’s eyes and she grabbed her cheek. “Why did you do that?”
“You’d think with the mess you’re in you would know better,” Fern hissed.
Ellie reeled from the shock. One minute they’d been happy and now this? What had just happened?
“You’re only twelve and you let your Daddy bust your cherry, which is a mortal sin. Now I catch you flirting with boys way too old for you.”
Ellie shuddered. Momma sounded crazy. “I didn’t let Daddy do anything to me, Momma. He just did it.”
Fern grabbed the shopping cart with one hand and Ellie with the other and began pushing both of them toward the car.
“Get in,” Fern said, as she unlocked the door.
Ellie paused, still trying to regain the prior joy. “Don’t you want me to help put the sacks in the car?”
Fern slapped her again. “Don’t talk back.”
By the time Ellie got into the back seat, she was shaking so hard she couldn’t fasten the seat belt. Instead, she curled up on the seat with her arms over her head. She should have known this wouldn’t last. Momma was off her rocker all over again.
Fern slung the grocery bags into the trunk of the car, then shoved the cart aside. When she went to get in, she saw Ellie in the back seat, curled up like a snake.
“Oh, for the love of God,” Fern said, as she slid behind the wheel. “Get up here right now.”
Something inside Ellie snapped. There was no such thing as the love of God. God didn’t love her or He would not have given her such crazy parents. She uncoiled herself with a jerk, sat up straight and buckled herself in.
“Hurry up,” Fern yelled. “I haven’t got all day. Ice cream is melting.”
“Then you better drive, Momma, because I’m not moving.”
A dark flush spread up Fern’s cheeks as she started the engine. “I should have seen this coming. You think what’s happened to you makes you all grown-up, don’t you?”
Ellie was so mad she was spitting her words. “No, Momma. I think God hates me, that’s what I think. I’ve been scared of Daddy all my life, but I’m done. No matter what you do to me, I refuse to be scared of you, too. You wanna know why I’m not sitting up front with you? You already hit me twice.” Then she started to scream. “I’m not stupid. I don’t want you to hit me again.”
Fern looked up into the rearview mirror, staring at her daughter in disbelief. Ellie’s cheek was a bright, ugly red. She looked back at herself. There were tears in her eyes and a rage in her body she didn’t know how to assuage. She’d done this. She just didn’t know how to take it back.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and then put the car in gear and drove away.
The silence between them was fraught with an angry energy. Two females who’d been betrayed by the same man had gotten lost from each other and the way back was too far. When Fern pulled up to the house, Ellie was out of the car and running inside before she got her seat belt unlocked.
“Oh Lord, Lord, what have I done?” Fern whispered. Either God wasn’t listening, or He was mad at Fern, too, because she didn’t get any answers.
With a heavy heart, she gathered up grocery bags and started toward the house.
Garrett was standing in the doorway with a smile on his face. “What happened?”
Fern wasn’t about to discuss Ellie with him. “If you intend to help, there are more sacks in the car. Otherwise get the hell out of my sight.”
Garrett turned around and left her standing. The sound of his laughter was an ugly reminder of the perilous hold she had on her world.
That night, the mood around
the supper table was tense. Daddy had offered to help prepare the meal, even going so far as to fill all their glasses before they sat down to eat. Then they’d passed dishes and scooted food around on their plates in a sick kind of politeness that was making Ellie nuts.
Momma hated Daddy.
Daddy hated Momma.
And Daddy was definitely mad at Ellie.
She kept glancing at Wyatt, but he wasn’t talking. Momma kept picking up the saltshaker then putting it back down without using it, and Daddy persisted in crossing her line of vision by reaching for the gravy boat without asking her to pass it. Every time he used it, he would put it all the way back on the far side of the table, knowing he was intruding upon her personal space.
Ellie felt his anger. He wanted her to argue. He wanted to start a fight. She wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to run. Even worse, the slice of roast beef Momma had put on Ellie’s plate was too raw. Momma knew Ellie liked her meat well-done, but she was too angry with Momma to ask for another slice. A thin trickle of blood had run out onto her mashed potatoes when she’d cut her first bite. It looked too much like the blood that had run down her legs—the blood that had started all this mess.
Everyone was quiet and far too polite to mention the smell of rot festering between them. The only person who was actually eating was Daddy. He wolfed down food as if he’d been starving.
Ellie caught her mother glaring at Daddy and then at her, over and over, watching the both of them. But for what? Daddy was too calm and the smirk on his face made Ellie nervous.
Finally, Momma carried her plate to the sink and began doing dishes.
Ellie took it as a sign. “May I be excused?” she muttered, then got up and stomped out of the room without waiting for an answer.
Fern started to call her back, then shrugged and reached for the faucet. As she did, everything started to spin. She grabbed hold of the sink and lowered her head.
“What’s wrong?” Garrett asked.
Fern wouldn’t show weakness. “Nothing.”
“Fine then,” Garrett said. “I’ll clear the table.”
She didn’t bother to comment. If he wanted a conversation, she wasn’t interested in participating.
Even though she kept getting dizzier, she managed to get the dishes loaded in the dishwasher. But as soon as she turned it on, she headed for her room, staggering with every step.
“Lean on me,” Garrett said.
Fern was so weak she didn’t argue. By the time he got her to her bedroom, she could barely move one foot in front of the other.
“Want me to stay with you?” he asked.
“Get away from me,” she mumbled, as she crawled up on the bed, collapsing face down.
Garrett walked toward the door, then stopped and gave the room one last glance. The telephone was unplugged. The suicide note in Fern’s own hand was propped up on her writing table across the room, and Fern was flat on her face, doped to the gills with every sleeping pill in the place. She’d just seen her last sunrise and it was none too soon.
“Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Garrett said and then laughed all the way out the door.
Ellie was about to turn on her television to watch one of her shows when she heard her Daddy laugh. What just happened? Were he and Momma laughing together? Everyone had been mad and hateful and now they were laughing?
“Wyatt, did you hear Momma and Daddy laughing?”
Wyatt was pissed. “I heard it.”
It was Ellie’s last straw. “That does it. We’re going to run away.”
Wyatt frowned. “No, you’re not, and neither am I.”
