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Fern grabbed her by the arm. “Don’t lie to me, Ellie. I won’t have it.”
Ellie began to panic and backed out of her mother’s grasp. “Nothing, Momma, nothing.” She began to shake. What had she done?
A bubble of horror rose at the back of Fern’s throat as she got up from the rocker and followed Ellie all the way to the door, grabbing her before she could escape. She closed the door, and for one of the few times since Ellie started school, picked her up and carried her back to the chair. When she sat down, Ellie was locked in a grip from which she wouldn’t escape.
Fern’s heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst. Even as the words were forming in her mouth, she knew once they’d been spoken, she could never take them back.
“Elizabeth Ann, what games does Daddy play with you?”
Tears welled and rolled down the curve of Ellie’s cheeks. “I want Wyatt.”
Fern groaned. Not again. “No. I don’t want to talk to Wyatt. I want to talk to you.”
“Wyatt knows,” Ellie whispered.
“But I need to hear it from you,” Fern said, then suddenly yanked her child up to her breasts and started to rock. “Tell Momma, Honey. Tell Momma what kind of games Daddy plays with you. I won’t be mad.”
“Secret games,” Ellie whispered.
Fern moaned. “What kind of secrets?”
“The kind of secrets that make babies, like the game you and Daddy played that made me.”
Fern needed to throw up, but it would have to wait. “How long have you and Daddy played those games?”
“Always. I’m Daddy’s girl. He says that’s what Daddy’s girls do.”
Shock went through Fern’s body in waves, ripping away her soul and leaving her with nothing but naked guilt. It was her fault. It was all her fault. She’d taken to her bed without thinking of the ramifications—without watching over her own child. Now she was shaking as hard as Ellie.
“Always?” she asked.
“Yes, but now he’ll have to stop. Right? I got my period, so he’ll have to stop. He says it has to be a secret, but if he makes a baby, it won’t be a secret anymore. That means it’s over, doesn’t it?”
Fern looked up. Years ago, after they’d realized Ellie was going to live, Garrett had insisted Fern remove all the religious icons from his daughter’s bedroom, claiming Ellie needed bright colors and toys instead. And like always, Fern had obliged him. She’d taken everything out, all the crosses and the angels and the paintings of Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary, and moved everything into her room, and here they hung. Everything that had happened to Ellie afterward was all Fern’s fault. When she’d taken God from her baby, she’d let the Devil come in.
“I’m sorry, Ellie, I’m so sorry,” Fern said and kept on rocking.
Chapter Four
Everything felt weird to Ellie. She couldn’t remember the last time Momma had hugged her, or rocked her, or even read her a book. And she was rocking her so fast—too fast. Ellie wondered if Momma was thinking speed would make up for lost time.
But time was passing and Ellie’d had enough rocking. She was more concerned about her ruined panties and what Daddy was going to do when he found out she’d told. She pushed herself out of Fern’s grasp and got out of her lap.
“Momma . . . about my period . . .”
Fern moaned, then fell out of the chair onto her knees. Prostrating herself upon the floor, she began to pray, mumbling words in between shrieks and moans so loud they hurt Ellie’s ears.
Ellie clapped her hands over her ears as she backed toward the door. Then she turned and ran, screaming Wyatt’s name.
As always, he came running. “What’s wrong?”
Ellie kept her ears covered, trying to block out the sounds from the room behind her. “She knows,” Ellie whispered.
“Knows what?” Wyatt said.
“The secret.”
Wyatt gasped. “You told?”
Blood was still running down the inside of Ellie’s legs. She could feel it inching toward her knees. She wondered if she stood here long enough if she might just bleed to death. It would solve pretty much all of her problems—except the one about going to hell. She didn’t want to go to hell when she died. She’d planned all along to go to heaven, but now it wasn’t looking so good.
“Someone’s coming,” Wyatt hissed. “You better run.”
But as luck would have it, it was only Doris. She’d heard the screaming and wailing all the way into the kitchen. Certain someone had been injured, she’d come running. When she saw Ellie standing in the middle of the hallway, she breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever was happening, the girl was okay.
Ellie swiped snot off her upper lip with the back of her hand just as Doris grabbed her by the shoulders.
“What’s wrong? What’s all that crying about? Is someone hurt? Where’s your mother? Where’s Fern?”
Ellie felt like she was standing outside of herself. She could see her reflection in Doris’s eyes, and she’d never noticed Doris’s roots were gray. It was a revelation that Doris actually colored her hair. It explained why it was darker some days than others.
“Ellie. Answer me. What’s wrong?” Doris shook Ellie by the shoulders to make her point.
Ellie shuddered. “I got my period.”
Doris’s expression shifted from panic to sympathy. “Oh sugar, that’s alright. It comes to all of us sooner or later. What’s the matter with Fern?”
Ellie couldn’t tell her about the secret. “I think she’s praying.”
Doris’s eyebrows knitted over the bridge of her nose, and her mouth pursed right up into a knot of disapproval.
“Well now,” Doris muttered. “There’s a time for praying, and there’s a time for being sensible. Do you have any pads?”
Ellie shook her head.
Doris hugged her again. “You go right into your bedroom and jump in the shower. Clean yourself up all nice and tidy while I go down to the pharmacy and get you some. I should be back by the time you’re done.”
Ellie was so relieved her Daddy wasn’t going to be the one doing the shopping that she threw her arms around Doris’s neck and gave her a quick hug. “Thank you, Doris,” Ellie said, and then dashed off into her bedroom.
“Well now,” Doris said.
At that moment, Fern let out a particularly loud and mournful wail. Unaware of the unfolding tragedy, Doris rolled her eyes, then gathered herself up and headed back to the kitchen to get her purse.
By the time she got back, all was quiet in Fern’s bedroom and Ellie was waiting in hers. She gave Ellie another hug and a brief lesson in feminine hygiene and then made a beeline for the kitchen. She was already late starting supper.
Ellie didn’t know what she thought about the pad between her legs. It felt a little strange, but in a way, she felt proud. She began walking back and forth across the bedroom floor, trying not to waddle like a duck.
That was when Wyatt returned. “So, how do you feel?”
Ellie shrugged. “Different.”
He frowned. They always did everything together, but this was a place he couldn’t go.
“Whatever.” He sat down on the side of the bed. “Momma quit crying.”
“I know,” Ellie said.
“Wonder what it means?’
Ellie shrugged. She was afraid to guess.
“Are you going to tell Daddy?” Wyatt asked.
Ellie turned on him, her hands on her hips, her voice shaking with emotion she couldn’t control. “About what . . . that I told the secret, or that I got my period, or that Momma was taking me to Dillard’s tomorrow to buy me a training bra?”
Wyatt frowned. Put like that, he decided Ellie was entitled to be pissed.
Ellie sighed. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I didn’t mean to sound mad at you. Don’t be angry. You’re not just my brother, you’re my best friend.”
“I’m never going to be mad at you,” Wyatt said. “We’re together forever, remember?”
Sudde
nly, Wyatt flew off the bed and ran to the window. “Daddy’s home.”
Ellie gasped and began looking frantically for a place to hide.
“Stop that,” Wyatt said. “Don’t let him know you’re scared. He likes it when we’re scared.”
Ellie swallowed anxiously, then pulled herself up with a dignity beyond her years. “You’re right. I don’t have to be scared of him anymore. I got my period, so he can’t play the game.”
Wyatt didn’t feel like now was the time to mention that since he didn’t get periods, he might not be all that safe. The main concern was what Momma was going to do with her newfound information.
They didn’t have long to wait.
When they heard Daddy’s footsteps coming down the hallway toward his bedroom, Ellie started to pray.
“Be quiet,” Wyatt hissed.
Ellie sucked up in the middle of “Baby Jesus.” When his footsteps stopped outside their door, breath caught in the back of Ellie’s throat. Wyatt tightened his grip as they stared at the doorknob, willing it not to turn.
Garrett had had a long, miserable day at work. The stock market was down and clients had been calling all day, demanding to sell certain stocks while others were trying to buy the same stocks at an all-time low.
Doris eyed him curiously when he’d walked into the kitchen, then quickly looked away.
Garrett frowned. That was weird. She usually spoke. He bypassed the cookie he’d been about to sample and headed straight for his room to change. But as he started down the hall, he realized the house was too quiet. Ah. This might explain Doris’s odd behavior. He stopped, cocking his head to listen.
Usually Fern’s television was blaring, and he should be hearing Ellie chattering away to Wyatt. Even though she was his special girl, her bond to her twin was one thing he had never been able to break. He paused outside her door and knocked.
“Ellie? Are you there?”
Wyatt put his hand over Ellie’s mouth.
Garrett was reaching for the doorknob when he heard a sound behind him. He turned just as Fern lurched through the doorway. Her face was splotched, her eyes nearly swollen shut, but she was standing with her feet apart in a fighting stance and her shoulders thrust back as if bracing herself for a blow.
“Get away from that door,” she shouted.
Garrett frowned. “How dare you—”
Fern launched herself at him like a guided missile and hit him with a fist to the jaw before he could end the sentence. He went down like a felled ox.
Inside the bedroom, Ellie flinched. “What was that?”
Wyatt headed for the door. “I’m gonna see.”
“Wait, what if—”
Wyatt had already opened the door. Ellie had no choice but to follow. The last thing they expected to see was Daddy on the floor with blood pouring from his nose and Momma standing over him, her hands curled into fists.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I think you broke my nose,” Garrett yelled, and grabbed his handkerchief to stop the blood.
Fern drew back her foot and kicked him in the balls. She would have preferred to cut them off, but she’d made a deal with God.
“With me? What the fuck is wrong with you?” she screamed. “Pervert! Child molester! Devil’s spawn!”
Garrett moaned and retched as he grabbed his crotch and rolled, desperate to get away from Fern’s wrath. What the hell just happened? As he did he caught sight of Ellie and knew from the look on her face that he’d been betrayed. He caught a glimpse of Ellie’s expression and suddenly, he knew.
“You told,” he said accusingly, then grunted as another of Fern’s kicks caught him in the balls.
“Hell yes, she told,” Fern screamed. “Ellie. Get back in your room.”
But Ellie couldn’t move. “I had to tell, Daddy,” she announced. “I got my period today. That means I can make babies. And that means you can’t play the game with me again.”
“Jesus Christ,” Garrett muttered, staring at her anew. That she would have drawn all of these conclusions on her own had never entered his head.
“Do not even mention the name of our Lord and Savior,” Fern shrieked and grabbed him by the back of his suit coat and spun him around. “You need to hear my words, Garrett Wayne, and hear them good. God told me not to kill you. If He had not, you’d already be dead. You’re still breathing because I’m following God’s command. But if you ever go near that child again, it will be the last thing you do. I’ll gladly go to prison for life, just to know you’re already in hell.” She let him go and pointed at her daughter. “Ellie. Get in your room and don’t come out until I tell you to.”
Ellie ducked back, slamming the door behind her, then ran for the farthest corner of the room and hid between the wall and her bed.
“I’m here,” Wyatt said, and slid down beside her.
Ellie wrapped her arms around her knees and stared over the mattress toward the door, praying it wouldn’t open.
Out in the hall, Garrett had managed to crawl to his feet, but he was a sorry lot, standing with one hand on his crotch and the other trying to stop the flow of blood coming out his nose. “Fern, I didn’t mean—”
Fern slapped him across the face, splattering blood across the wall. “Shut your mouth. You’re evil. Nothing comes out of you but lies. The only thing you didn’t mean to do was to get caught. Go clean yourself up and come down to dinner.”
“I can’t eat. You need to take me to the emergency room. My nose is broken.”
“Take yourself,” Fern snapped. “When you go back to work on Monday, you tell them whatever you want, as long as it’s not the truth. The only reason I haven’t already called the police is because if the news got out about what you’ve done, Ellie would be subjected to ridicule and pity for the rest of her life.”
Then she shoved him away from Ellie’s doorway and stood guard in front of it until Garrett staggered back toward the kitchen.
Doris had just walked back in the house from carrying trash out to the curb and heard only enough commotion to suspect trouble was brewing. When she saw her employer come stumbling back through the kitchen holding a bloody handkerchief to his nose, she knew she’d been right.
She stepped back in shock. “Oh my, Mr. Wayne, do you need me to—”
Garrett held up his hand then put a finger to his lips.
Doris clasped her hands over her mouth.
He walked out the door.
She heard the car start up then drive away. Moments later Fern came striding through the kitchen with her purse over her arm. “I’ve got to run an errand. I won’t be long. Feed Ellie when dinner’s ready. I’ll eat when I get back.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Doris said.
Fern drove away, leaving Doris in the kitchen shaking her head. The money was good, and she felt sorry for little Ellie, all alone in this house except for Wyatt. This had to be the strangest family she’d ever worked for.
By the time the food was ready to eat, Doris was worried. Fern was gone. Garrett was gone, and Ellie and Wyatt were nowhere to be found. Remembering how shook up Ellie had been earlier by starting her monthlies, Doris wondered if she was ashamed to face her. She knocked on Ellie’s door then peeked in.
At first Doris didn’t see her, then Ellie moved, and it was the motion that caught her attention.
“My goodness, child, what are you doing over there in the corner? Are you ill?”
“No, ma’am,” Ellie said as she got to her feet.
“Then it’s time for you and Wyatt to come eat.”
Ellie shook her head. “Wyatt’s in his room, and Momma told me not to come out until she came to get me.”
Doris frowned. “Well she told me not to wait dinner on her, and for you two to eat. She said she’d eat when she got back.”
Although it wasn’t cold, Ellie wrapped her arms around herself to keep from shivering. “I’m not disobeying Momma,” Ellie whispered. “I can’t.”
Doris frowned. “Would you eat if I brough
t your dinner to your room?”
Ellie nodded.
Doris resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I’ll be back.”
Ellie was finishing up her food when she heard footsteps and guessed it was Doris coming to get the tray. But it wasn’t Doris who came in, it was Momma. She had a sack in one hand and a screwdriver and hammer in the other.
“Why are you eating in your room?” Fern demanded.
Ellie jumped up. Momma still sounded mad.
“You told me not to come out of my room until you came to get me.”
Fern sighed. At least the child had the good sense to mind her. “It’s just as well,” she said, and then began digging stuff out of the sack.
“What’s that?” Ellie asked as Fern shoved a small metal plate onto one side of her door.
“I’m putting a lock called a slide bolt on the door. When you come into this room, you lock this door behind you every time. Do you understand?”
Ellie’s eyes widened. Her heart thumped once out of rhythm then curiosity got the better of her as she watched Momma working. “I didn’t know you knew how to use tools.”
“There are a lot of things I can do,” Fern said.
“Are you mad at me, Momma?”
Fern stopped. The quaver in Ellie’s voice was a shaft to her heart. “Lord, no, child. Why would you think that?”
“You yelled at me and now that.” She pointed at the lock. “Are you putting me in jail, too?”
Fern gasped. “No! Oh my goodness, no. You don’t understand. This lock isn’t to keep you in your room. It’s to keep your . . . to keep people out.”
Ellie’s eyes widened as the ramifications of this new piece of information soaked in. Of course Wyatt showed up when he’d heard all the commotion, then moved closer, watching to see how the lock was going to work, and how the screw ate into the wood bit by bit until it was flat against the plate.
Fern glanced down just as Wyatt looked up. Their gazes met. Fern blinked.
Wyatt glared. “You should have taken better care of Ellie.”
Fern shuddered and reached for her daughter.