Wishing Pearl (19 page)

“Oh, I’m really sorry to hear that.” Mom patted him on the shoulder. “Time heals all wounds.”

Olivia touched her scar and shook her head.
That remains to be seen
.

Waiting for Ben in the same chair she’d used the last time she’d been in his office, Olivia fidgeted with the strap of her backpack while Mom picked at invisible lint on her wool slacks. What if Ben sent Olivia home like he’d said he would have last time? She’d never go back to
Chuck’s
house. She’d just have to run away. Girls younger than Olivia had done it and survived. She wouldn’t be the first and probably not the last teenage runaway.

But what reason would Ben have to refuse her entry to the program? Her attitude had completely changed. And they’d spoken several times during the past few days. He wouldn’t have her come all the way out there only to make her turn right around and go home. Would he? As long as she acted respectfully and—

The office door flew open and banged on the wall behind it.

Olivia’s heart leapfrogged over her stomach. She dropped her backpack and gasped in shock at the explosive intrusion.

Ben burst into the room in pressed khakis and a royal blue button-down shirt, the exact color of the brightest glints in his eyes, with a slender gray pinstripe to match the silver in his hair. The sleeves were rolled up just enough to expose the sinewy muscles in his forearms. Like father, like son. Olivia shook her head. She had to stop examining Ben like that no matter how good he looked—it was creepy.

Ben flashed a warm grin as he sank into his chair. “Ladies, I’m very pleased to see you both. This is a direct answer to the prayers of a lot of people.” He rocked back in his seat and clasped his hands behind his head. “I’m sure you have tons of questions, but first, let me go over some preliminaries that might address some of the things you need to know. I’ll describe the daily schedule. Then we’ll talk about the rules and how to earn privileges.” He raised his eyebrows and waited.

“Sounds good to me,” Mom answered, returning his smile.

Get on with it already
.

Ben pulled a little booklet the size of a checkbook from his desk and handed it to Olivia. “This is the schedule. You’ll notice each day is broken down into hours. Preprinted in the calendar is what you’ll be doing at that time. Beside each event is space where you can write notes to yourself. For example”—he reached over the desk and flipped the book open to that day’s page—”next to the space for school time right here, you can list what you actually need to do that particular day—assignments, supplies you need, whatever. We print a new one of these every other month.”

Olivia thumbed through the pages while he talked. “Uh, hold on a sec. According to this schedule, it looks like we have to get up at six every single day? I never get up that early. Ever.” What would they do to her if she overslept?

“That’s right. Everyone gets up early to start the day off with the sunrise. Except for Saturdays when you can sleep until eight o’clock.”

Ooh! How generous
. “Why so early though? Don’t teenagers need extra sleep?” Olivia fought to keep down the sarcasm in her voice.

“Most teens sleep so late in the morning because they’re up too late at night. We make sure that doesn’t happen here at Diamond Estates. It all works out.”

Olivia slumped back in her chair. This was not going to be easy.

“Also about mornings, you’ll notice you’re allotted thirty minutes to shower and dress for the day. If you need more than that—many girls seem to—”

You think?

“—then you’ll need to rise earlier or find a way to shorten your morning routine.” Ben riffled through his own copy of the schedule. “At six thirty, you’re to be in the prayer commons. We have an hour of scripture reading and prayer every single day. That’s the one thing that never, ever changes.”

Olivia nodded slowly. What had she gotten herself into? Mom had offered to take Olivia back home if she had second thoughts and wanted to leave. Home meant no curfew, no chores, no alarm clock on the weekends—no
prayer
time encroaching on her sleep. But home also meant Charles.
No thanks
. Plus there were other reasons she’d come to Diamond Estates. Olivia had to keep reminding herself of those things so she wouldn’t lose sight of the goal. Change. Faith. Hope. Important goals, right? Only time would tell if they were worth it.

“When prayer time’s over, you go to breakfast. At eight thirty, after the meal and the cleanup, school starts. On Saturdays it would be ten thirty by then and you’d leave for an activity of some kind. Horseback riding, skiing, shopping—whatever the staff has planned. I think tomorrow is snowshoeing.”

Oh joy
. Tromping through snow with webbed feet and a bunch of people she didn’t know sounded like
great
fun.

“Sundays after breakfast, we head down the mountain to church.”

Olivia’s jaw dropped. “You mean we’ll go to a real church?”

“Sure. Why is that such a surprise?”

“I just assumed we would stay here most of the time. Like, you would do church here.” Olivia shuddered at the thought of the whole group filing into a public church. People would know they came from Diamond Estates. They’d be like those prison cleanup crews in orange jumpsuits on the roadside. How embarrassing.

“Nope. We join the real world for church.” Ben winked. “You’ll love it.”

The hint of laughter that always laced his words made things seem less intense, but Olivia had no plans to let her guard down. This place was hard-core whether Ben would admit it or not.

He put his calendar on the desk. “This might seem very rigid. I don’t want you to worry though. We do like a lot of structure around here, but we also love to throw in some changes now and then just to keep things lively.”

Mom sat up straighter. “Okay, so that’s the schedule. What about the rules?”

Ben swiveled his chair and slid it across the plastic mat. He reached into his file cabinet and pulled out a few sheets of paper. “This is the part everyone hates, but it’s necessary.”

It couldn’t possibly be worse than the schedule.

“Here’s a copy of the rules.” Eyes sparkling, Ben handed one to each of them and then sat back with his hands behind his head again.

He didn’t have to enjoy this so much, did he?

Olivia scanned the list of ten items.
Oh boy, this ought to be good
. Moving her eyes back to the top, she read each word carefully.

1. No smoking, alcohol, or drug use of any kind.

Duh. We covered the smoking issue last time. But don’t they even let people smoke in prison?

2. No lying, cheating, stealing, or fighting.

What’s left?

3. Absolutely no leaving the premises without permission and an escort.

Heaven forbid
.

4. No dating or fraternizing with boys at church or other activities.

That settles the question about Justin’s availability
.

5. Strict adherence to wardrobe guidelines is required at all times. See attached dress code.

Can’t wait to see that
.

6. You will be on time to all scheduled activities.

If the stars line up just right and I don’t have to share a bathroom with anyone, maybe
.

7. You will exercise adequate hygiene procedures—hand washing, regular showers, laundering your clothes, etc.

Gross! The fact that it has to be a rule must mean some girls don’t do those things
.

8. You will always speak respectfully to staff members and kindly to residents.

Or …?

9. You will act appropriately and politely at all times, on and off the estate grounds.

Blah. Blah. Blah
.

10. You will put forth your best effort in all things: schoolwork, spiritual growth (prayer, Bible study, etc.), chores, recreation.

So in other words, my life is over?

Olivia put the paper down on her lap and lifted her eyes, trying not to let the dismay show on her face, but not sure she succeeded. As long as she didn’t cry. Anything but that.

“I think you’ve seen that the rules aren’t anything unexpected.” Ben smiled, his eyes dancing. “Do you have any questions?”

“They mentioned a dress code?” Olivia’s stomach churned. She couldn’t believe she’d asked for this life. How would a dress code and a ridiculous schedule help her find God?

Ben handed her another sheet of paper. “Again, nothing unexpected, I’m sure.” He ticked items off on his fingers. “If you hang your arms down to your sides, the hems of your shorts and skirts can’t be higher than your fingertips. You’re allowed to wear one set of earrings—no other body piercings. Makeup can’t be extreme, gothic, or gaudy.”

Who decides what’s gaudy?

“Spaghetti straps or strapless tops aren’t allowed, and the straps of undergarments must always be covered. And no bare midriffs whatsoever.”

“What about her hair?” Mom gestured to the purple streak. “Are you going to make her get rid of that?”

Olivia froze, her eyes still on the paper. Now,
that
could be a deal breaker.

Ben shook his head. “No, probably not. We allow some forms of personal style as long as it’s tasteful.” He turned to Olivia and looked her in the eyes. “We’re not trying to fit you into a mold. We just want to help you become a healthy expression of who God made you to be.”

Olivia forced herself to look into Ben’s eyes. What would he say when he found out what Olivia already knew? God didn’t care about her.

Ben stood up. “Shall I show you to your room?”

W
eren’t you supposed to walk
down
to a dungeon? Eerie sconces flickered dancing shadows onto the stone walls of the stairway leading up to the bedroom quarters. Ben went first, carrying Olivia’s largest suitcase. Mom followed, and Olivia trailed behind, half expecting to hear the sounds of moaning or clinking chains.

Ben broke the awkward silence with his booming voice. “Typically, this staircase is off-limits to visitors and even to me for the most part. I rarely have a need to approach the girls’ rooms and find it’s much better if I don’t. I only come up here if I’m giving a tour or signing in a new resident, and only then if the girls are cleared out.”

Good. No midnight visitors.

He opened the door at the top, letting bright natural light bathe the dark stairway. “These doors aren’t locked until every girl is out for the day, and then they’re unlocked when it’s okay for them to be up here.”

Olivia nodded and stepped through the door he held open, following Mom into a gleaming hallway. The skylights overhead let in the sunlight beaming on the white walls. Not a single stone anywhere. No candles either. Finally, some sense of modern. Three white doors lined each side of the hallway with a seventh door at the end. Olivia ran her hand along the smooth wall as they walked toward the first door.

Ben passed it and opened the second one then stepped back for them to look inside. “Each room is exactly the same. There are two sets of bunk beds. The two dressers and desks are shared by the same two girls who share the bed. The closet is divided into four parts. Each room has a bathroom with a double sink and a shower.”

No jetted tub?
Two of these rooms shared by four girls would fit into her private bedroom in Charles’s house—with some room left over, probably. Could have been worse though. Olivia had expected a dormitory-style area with rows of metal cots like in war movies. At least she’d only have to battle three others for bathroom space—better than twenty or more.

Ben motioned for them to step into the room. “This one has an opening. I think you already met your roommates, as a matter of fact.”

Olivia heaved her backpack up to one shoulder and stepped inside. The remains of someone’s flowery perfume lingered. Better that than the smell of sweat socks or someone in need of rule number seven. On the right side of the room, one bed had a floral comforter with little hearts on vertical vines and a fuzzy pink heart pillow. Olivia couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the wall space around that top bunk, which had been hosed with pictures of puppies, dolphins, and ocean scenery. The girlie girl who slept there must have long hair because every imaginable color of claw hair clips gripped the length of the white bedrail.

The lower bunk had an orange blanket with purple and brown throw pillows. Pictures covered the wall inside the bunk area. Olivia peered a bit closer at the group photo of what appeared to be a large family of mostly African Americans. They looked like nice and happy people—smiling like someone had just told a joke. Olivia realized for the first time that she’d never really known a black person before—there weren’t many at her school.

Right in the center of about eight kids of all different ages sat Tricia, the gorgeous girl she’d met the last time she’d been there. Tricia flashed pearly white teeth, showing off supermodel good looks. What could she have done to have landed herself at Diamond Estates? With such a big, happy—seemingly loving—family, what did she have to worry about? Ju-Ju had said that Tricia liked boys too much. How much too much?