Chapter 26

Elspeth

I hung up the phone after Finn’s call, and my stomach turned again. I’d heard the woman’s voice, so nearby and asking him if he was ready. I could read the nuances in her voice—whomever it was, she cared for him. Maybe she was the woman in his life before I came in and turned it upside down?

I felt miserable and just then my phone rang again. It was Neenah, the woman Finn had invited to the games night.

“Hello, Neenah,” I opened the conversation. “How are you?”

I tried to be cheerful but my heart wasn’t in it.

“Hey, Elspeth. Listen, I’m going to pop by for a cup of coffee and a quick chat. Finn asked me to look in on you while he was gone. I’m on my way to the store and thought I’d come by your place first. My groceries won’t keep in the car.”

“Oh…” I was trying to think of an excuse quickly. “I was just about to leave myself,” I improvised.

“Too late—I just pulled into your drive,” she said, leaving me no outs. I didn’t like how pushy she was, but I did have to admit I was lonely with Finn away.

“Okay, I’ll meet you at the door.” I ended the call and looked in the hallway mirror, straightened my hair, and wished I’d had time to put on some lip gloss and mascara. I hardly looked like someone who was about to leave for the store.

“There you are!” She lavished me with two cheek kisses and a preening smile as she came into the house. “I’ll only stay a bit. Would you happen to have some decaf?” she asked, blowing in like an autumn storm.

“Of course, make yourself comfortable,” I told her as I headed to the kitchen. She followed me, taking a chair at the table and rifling through her bag to extract a comb and mirrored compact.

“Don’t ever get old,” she pleaded in a tone that told me she was talking to herself, not me. “It’s hell!”

I nodded and set her cup of coffee before her. I looked down and brushed off the toast crumbs from my shirt and put on my best smile. I was certain she’d seen the crumbs, though.

“So, have you heard from Finn?” she asked immediately. I knew she was much more interested in his life than mine. She was a woman of pretense—that much was certain.

“As a matter of fact, yes, a short time ago. It turns out there’s some sort of trouble at the office, and he’ll be gone an extra week.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” she mewled, patting the back of my hand. “My, but you already are looking peaked. Aren’t you sleeping well?”

The woman had eyes like a hawk, heavily outlined and colored with a shade of emerald glittering shadow.

“I’m fine,” I lied. I’d slept miserably—the dreams would not let me sleep for more than an hour at a time. Now I didn’t even have Finn here to snuggle against.

Neenah hadn’t come to check up on me—at least not in the way she’d promised Finn. She was up to something more purposeful, as I was about to find out.

“Can we be honest, dear?” she began and I knew I was in for it.

I nodded.

“When we left here last, we couldn’t all help but notice that you looked like you felt out of place,” she said, planting the first seed of doubt.

“Oh, well, I didn’t know anyone…” I began my excuse but she had come to talk, not listen.

“I’m sure, but it was more than that. We all got the distinct impression that this…” she swept her arm around herself to indicate the massive lake house, “was more than you were used to. Am I right?”

How could I answer her? I had no idea what I was used to, but I was sure she wasn’t far off the mark. I shrugged casually. She was riding a wave, and I knew I might as well let her get on with it.

“Why I told Bev Shatton that since you’ve been here, we’ve hardly seen Finn. That’s not like him, dear. He’s always been the life of the party, if you get my drift. I doubt he ever spent a night alone,” she winked for emphasis, “and Lord knows there are a dozen girls just here in town who would give their first born to be with him. It’s just that you looked so… so miserable. Bev suggested that maybe you thought he needed you—and that you were being brave and staying to keep him company. We discussed it and thought we should mention it to you, so you wouldn’t feel an obligation. After all, I’m sure you’d be happier with your people, wouldn’t you, dear?”

Jesus! Talk about sinking the sword into my gut and twisting it. Who did this old biddy think she was? Then I found out.

“You know… he and my niece, Sabrina, were an item all last summer. She thought he’d propose but then something came up at the office and he was gone—just like that. Much like he’s doing to you right now, dear…” she said, leaving the words and their nuance to hang in the air between us.

Apparently, she’d said what she’d come to say. She never touched her coffee, but began applying lipstick with her compact’s mirror and stood to conclude our talk. She held herself as though it was now understood that I wasn’t welcomed and the sooner I was on my way, the better.

“Well, thank you for coming by, Neenah,” I told her in the most gracious voice I could muster. I felt like I was ushering my killer to the door. “Please come back again, will you?”

She didn’t even bother to nod as she sailed from the house and climbed into her cream-colored Mercedes. I watched as she backed down the driveway, cutting off a school bus in her haste to get on down the road.

My stomach flopped again, and I made a run for the guest bathroom where I was heartily sick. I couldn’t remember feeling this miserable since the night I’d almost frozen to death… and that night I’d had Finn to warm me. Now he was gone and, according to Neenah, this was how he ended it with all the girls. I washed my face and went up to my bedroom to lie down for a while. I immediately fell asleep.

He was driving, and I was feeling trapped in the passenger seat. I was petrified, but determined to get to her. My mother needed me. I could never leave her alone with this monster. The smell of sweat made me nauseous but it was his hands I was most afraid of.

Those were the hands that had struck me, time after time — even when I didn’t see them coming. He took turns, striking my mother and then me — each time in a drunken rage.

I couldn’t understand why my mother didn’t leave him, why we didn’t throw what little belongings we had in the bag and take off.

I had graduated school and had done very well in my typing class. I knew if I looked I could find a job, enough to keep us going. I would beg her to leave, threaten to call the police, and she would grow terrified.

As bad as he was, he was all she had. I couldn’t understand that logic, but I knew I had to stay and protect her.

My mother had left to visit her cousin in northern Michigan over Thanksgiving. I knew that was a farce, and that she had to seek shelter because he had beaten her so badly she couldn’t be seen in town or questions would be asked. I had asked a girlfriend from school whether I might stay with her so I wouldn’t be alone in the house with him. She understood my situation and readily agreed.

Everyone in town knew he was a drunk and a horrid man. I think everyone suspected what he did to my mother and I, but no one was brave enough to risk his wrath by turning him in. He continued to get drunk and come home to beat us — and no one cared enough to make it stop.

I was glad when my mother went north and hoped she would find the courage to stay there. I knew it was a lost cause, though, because I knew he would go up and bring her home. In fact, that’s where we were going at that moment.

“Your mother is ready to come home now,” he’d told me the previous night. She wants you to ride along with me so you can visit with your family for an hour or so before we start back.”

“Are you sure?” I had my doubts. For all my mother’s weaknesses, I didn’t see her as willing to put me in danger. As if his hand slapping me wasn’t enough, his eyes on my crotch were the promise of what he really wanted.

“Are you calling me a liar?” I heard the rage building in his voice and knew it would be easier to go along. After all, he would have to bring Mother home and it would be better if I was along. He would question her at length, ask her what she had told her family. If anything she said didn’t please him, I knew he would beat her for it. I had grown accustomed to getting in the middle. I was younger and stronger and I could take the beatings better than she could.

“No, of course not. I’m just a little surprised.”

His hand crept across the seat between us, landing with his palm on my thigh. Panicking, I pointed to the sign. “Look! The bridge is just ahead. There will be a tollbooth, I’m guessing. I read somewhere that bridge is five miles long,” I said, trying to divert his attention. He knew what I was trying to do, but the bridge could not be overlooked.

We crossed the five-mile span and it had begun to snow. The wipers were broken, and he drove with his window down, his spindly, long arm, brushing away the white curtain that built up on the windshield.

He had begun drinking again, the flask ever present in his pocket. He swayed from side to side as we sped quickly down the road, far too fast for the conditions. I held my breath and closed my eyes, hoping someone’s angel would watch over me.

We had driven about an hour and the traffic had disappeared. It was just he and I, alone and in that car. There was a sign that read “Public Access” and he pulled down it. He threw the car into park, took a long swig from the bottle and slid it back into his pocket.

At that point, he turned to me and his hand reached for my neckline. He grabbed a fist of fabric and pulled, ripping it downward and exposing me to his view. He had never tried this before — why hadn’t I seen this coming?

I screamed and fought him off, pounding my fists on his forearms and then into his face. Using the flat palm of my hand, I slammed it hard upward, against the tip of his nose, and he screamed in pain as the blood began to pour out.

I seized that opportunity to shove open my door and fall out into the snow. I quickly staggered to my feet and ran around to the back of the car. I followed the tracks that led back to the road and looked both ways, hoping someone might drive by and rescue me.

I chose a direction, north, since that was where we were headed. I walked close to the road, in case a car came by, but my eyes were constantly scanning the wood line, looking for some sort of shelter.

I was not dressed for this weather, and I had never felt this cold before. That’s when I saw it — a small house-like structure sitting just inside the tree line. I checked again for an oncoming car and saw no one. With resolve, I headed for the structure and the closer I came, I realized it was nothing more than an old shack with its door standing open. It was better than nothing, however, and I ran inside.

I rubbed my arms, trying to create heat from friction and let my eyes become accustomed to the darkness inside. I looked for anything that would keep me warm but there were no blankets or fabric of any kind — not even curtains over the windows.

That was when I saw his car. It drove by slowly, and I stooped low, hoping he didn’t catch a glimpse of me looking out the window. He drove on and I sighed with relief.

There was a fireplace on the far wall and my eyes combed the darkness, looking for something I might be able to burn. I had no idea how I would start a fire, but to just sit here and wait for death to claim me was not an option. I thought I spied the broken legs of the chair, lying on the hearth of the fireplace. I got to my knees and was reaching forward with my hands, trying to locate them, when the world suddenly went black.

I woke myself screaming. The comforter I had pulled over me was pushed down to the floor. Evidently, I had been kicking it as I fought off the man who was my attacker.

My stomach lurched, and I sprang from the bed and barely made it to the bathroom before I was sick again. This time, I had gotten it on my clothes, so with resolve, I peeled them off.

Leaving them in a pile, I started the shower and stepped inside. I let the water pour over me, as hot as I could stand it. I needed something or someone to soothe me, and Finn was not there and wouldn’t be for some time. If Neenah was correct, Finn may not ever be coming back, at least until he was sure I was gone.

As terrified as I was, my heart was breaking. I knew I was in love with him and the idea of being without him, even if he was not totally happy, was something I didn’t want to power with thought. I dragged myself and put on clean clothing.

I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on sports socks and getting ready to slide on my shoes when I was struck with the realization. I couldn’t understand why it hadn’t occurred to me earlier. I threw on my shoes, grabbed my bag, and ran out of the house, driving the red convertible into town.

I made my purchase and went straight home, bounding up the stairs to my bathroom where I was once again sick. I was shaking as I opened the package and removed the contents.

I can’t say I was surprised. I can only say that I felt the cold fear, reminiscent of what I felt when I was near the man in the car. I knew who he was now. It was all coming back to me.

His name was Earl, and he was my mother’s boyfriend. He had lived with us for almost two years, and for two years she had borne his nightly beatings. He was a miserable, mean drunk and had no friends. What he did have, however, was a meager job in the coal mine where we lived in southern Ohio. His paycheck, once he had drunk his fill, was enough to put food on the table and to barely warm the small house where we lived. We had to let him stay — it was a matter of survival.

I knew who I was. My name was Elspeth Alexander. I was the only daughter of Martha Alexander, my own father having supposedly been killed years earlier in the coal mine, although I knew Mother was lying and that they’d never married.

I remember now that we had barely managed to stay alive — we were as poor as anyone could be and not be homeless. I had seen my mother taking one lover after another — her only option for our survival. None of them had been as bad as Earl. The dream had been accurate. He convinced me that my mother wanted me to ride along with him to pick her up. In fact, he had planned to rape me all along. He hated me. He knew that I knew who he was, and that was a nobody.

I was smart, and I had worked hard in school. I had gotten a job as a secretary and was beginning to earn money, enough that we could make Earl leave and my mother and I would be safe once again. I had practiced hard, improving my skills and studying at the library after school to increase my vocabulary. I worked very hard at my diction. I knew I could command a higher salary if I didn’t speak like a hillbilly.

I watched movies whenever I got the chance, imitating the way the stars spoke. Katherine Hepburn and Betty Davis were my idols. They were both strong, capable women who did not need a man to be happy. I wanted to be like them.

I wanted to be the kind of woman that Earl would hate. In that, at least, I was successful. As the memories continued to flood back, my hand shook as I lifted the device into the orb of light from the nightstand lamp. Fear flooded my stomach as I realized I was following in my mother’s footsteps.

I was pregnant.