Authors: Shelby Rebecca
“I know.”
“You’d better skedaddle. He’s gonna be home in about half an hour.” I smile at her. She smiles back.
I walk out the front door and when I turn around to look at her again, there’s something in her eyes I don’t recognize. Is it power over her own life that puts that gleam in her eye? Just a small piece of my brain whispers to me,
maybe she’s on his side. Setting you up.
Which side do I listen to? I’ve until tomorrow at noon to decide which part of my brain to believe. The right side or the wrong side.
Chapter Twenty-Five—Pearls, Pearls, Pearls
I have so much to think about as I sit here on my childhood bed staring at the ripped and torn panties I’ve stuffed into a plastic sandwich bag. They are the only evidence that proves what happened to me is real. I’m terrified to risk giving them away and losing my chance at justice. I stand up and walk toward the mirror set up on top of the long dresser against the wall. I pull off the grey Schiaparelli scarf and force myself to look at my scars.
I loathe them so much that I usually avoid looking at them directly. There are three in all. Two smaller ones and one longer where Donnie sliced across my throat as I tried to fight back. Raised and annealed, uneven, pink, and slightly glossy. They are worthy of being covered up.
Is this the link between us?
I shake my head no. Our link goes so much deeper than that. Our link is a virus he implanted somewhere deep in my brain. It was a combination of his actions and his words mixed with my fear that caused it to embed so deep within my psyche that I don’t think it’ll ever be removed. The virus is part of me now, like how an oyster turns an impurity into a pearl layer by layer. It’s the only way to allow the imperfection to stay so near. The antiques, the scarves, the career. Pearls, pearls, pearls.
Dr. Amy picks away at this virus here and there. Parts have healed a bit. Some parts have grown back together. Some parts have strengthened me as a person—made me who I am today. But other parts have been my downfall in so many hidden ways that I’ve dealt with on my own. All I want is to be free. It feels a bit like being a prisoner, but it’s my own mind that locks me in.
This is what I’m fighting for. To be able to let go of the fear. I’ve chosen to stay here and that means he can’t. I keep thinking about Renae. I wonder if he raped her before they got married. Or if it’s something he did later, because he’s so sick he has to rape women to get off.
I think about all the signs that prove she’s been abused. Her eyes, how they look dead, the way she brought him his bowl of soup before he’d even sat all the way down in the chair, how she tried to talk to me after the fire, how she winced when I touched her hand. It’s clear, the right part of my brain to trust is the one that has Renae in it. Does that mean I should trust Officer Howard?
I think about Donnie. Even before he raped me, I used to bristle when he was near. Something in my body told me he was danger. I didn’t get that feeling about Officer Howard. And Renae, she trusts him. I think my best chance is to meet up with him and ask how long it will take to test the evidence. How long until Donnie will be in custody?
Maybe I can just text him. I have his number in my phone. So I do it before I can trick myself out of it.
__
Me:
How long until DNA evidence would be confirmed if I gave it to you tomorrow?
__
I get the cigar box out of the closet and stare at the letters wrapped in the green ribbon. I pull out the one on top and open it. I recognize his handwriting immediately. It opens so many memories in my brain. Happy memories. Him showing me how to do fractions. Him editing my essays. Him making little cards for me. Writing me notes. And of course, this letter itself, which had always caused me to think of him every time circumstances caused me to look at the moon. It’s thick—about three pages. I begin to read:
Dear Sadie,
It’s been so long since I seen you. I miss you. The other day I went down to the creek to go fishing and I was remembering how you always made me stick the pink fish eggs on the hook for you. I remember the look on your face when you watched me do it and I was laughing all by myself on the shore. I left you flowers again. I put them on your windowsill. I hope you liked them. They made me think of you.
Did you like the fish? I know trout is your favorite. Your momma says your appetite has been coming back a little. I haven’t been swimming in a long while. It’s not the same without you. Last summer you kind of turned out to be a pretty good swimmer. Remember when we went down to the river? You swam for a long while and kept up with me real good.
I remember how proud of yourself you were. You looked so pretty that day. You got a little bit of sun and your hair was wet and you had on your yellow swimsuit. I was thinking how we was going to bring our kids there and teach them how to swim too someday.
I ain’t given up on that you know. I never will. I’ve loved you all your life. I’m leaving real soon in about a few weeks for college. I don’t want to. Not like this when I can’t say goodbye to you proper. It makes my stomach hurt when I think about it.
Until I can see you again I want you to know that every time you look up at the moon I’m looking at it too. It’s the one thing we’ll both be able to see no matter where we are. It’s important for me to tell you that because to me the way we feel about each other doesn’t happen for everyone. You are a part of me and I am yours forever. Nothing will ever change that. Not for me. I just wish things were different. I wish that every day.
I miss so many things about you. Everything here makes me think of you. I miss hearing you talk. Walking to the creek reminds me of your stories. And the color of your eyes. They remind me of the trees here in Ansted. The way you flip your hair when you walk. It reminds me of the wind. I miss your giggle under our tree. I can’t go there no more. I miss hearing you sing. I can’t play music no more neither. Not without you. It’s just not the same. And the flowers. The flowers remind me of you. “You are my flower that’s blooming in the mountain for me.” That’s our song. Don’t forget. Promise me you won’t.
Someday we’ll be together again. That’s the only thing that gives me hope. I love you Sadie.
Yours forever,
Dillon
When I look up, he’s standing in the doorway of my room. He’s grasping a blooming handful of wildflowers.
He got his wish
. I put my hand to my mouth and begin to cry. It’s the ugly cry this time.
“Baby?” he says, as he comes to me and kneels down to hand the flowers to me. “What’s a’ matter?”
“I was just reading this letter,” I say, holding it out to him. He takes it and looks at me like a lost puppy dog as he tilts his head to the side.
“You kept them?”
I nod my head yes. “They’re all right here,” I say, motioning to the stack of letters held together with the green ribbon. He hands me the flowers and I hand him the letters. He sits down next to me on the bed.
Crap! The panties!
I think as I look to my right and see them sitting on the bed just out of his sight.
As he unfolds the letter I was reading, I grab hold of the panties and try to think of how I can hide them without jumping up and running out of the room. When I can’t think of what to do, I push them under my left thigh and watch his pained expression as he reads.
“This was the last one you got,” he says, wiping his eyes.
“Yes.”
“I brought you another one a few days later. Your momma told me you’d left the day before. It was like she’d put her hand right through my chest and ripped my heart out.”
“I’m so sorry, Dillon,” I say, taking his hands in mine.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I just mean that I know. I’m realizing, I mean, as we’ve been together again that,well, just how hard this has been on you.”
“I feel like I finally have you, but I could lose you again if this guy isn’t caught. I’m scared of losing you.”
“You won’t.”
“I brought you the flowers for the other night. To thank you for...” he stops. Rubs his chin. “For giving me the opportunity to show you how I feel for you.”
“Do you mean in the cave?”
“When you asked if I wanted a baby, it’s like something just clicked in my head. It was just you and me again in our secret place. This time you’re telling me you think you want a baby. That maybe we’ve already made one together. I just... Do you know how much I want to believe this can happen for us?”
“It’s not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. It’s very reckless. But I don’t care. I just want you and our life together. I want to have children running around in the house you bought for us.”
“Me, too,” he says, as he grasps me by my hips. It’s so intimate the way he touches me. He takes his chin between his thumb and forefinger and nods his head as if he’s hearing little feet pit and pat along the hardwood floor of our house. “Won’t you join me for dinner?” he says, standing and gallantly putting his hand out to me.
“Where?”
“Can’t you smell it? Missy’s made a real nice dinner. Spaghetti. She even made a sauce for you without meat.” I giggle at how eighteenth century English he looks as he stands with his hand out and his feet pointed out just so. “Ah. That sound. I’ve missed your giggle.”
“And I’ve missed yours,” I say, as I slyly grab the panties as I stand up. “I’m just going to wash my hands and I’ll be right there.” He takes me in his arms. When will I ever stop feeling those
live wires
when he touches me?
I hope never
, I think as he kisses my forehead and walks toward the living room while I walk to the bathroom.
Under the too bright naked bulb, I hide the panties in a box of Q-tips under the sink, wash my hands, and make my way out to the kitchen. Missy set the table but I realize Dale’s spot is empty. “Where’s Dale?” I ask.
“He took an overnight run. He just wanted to make sure he’d be back in time for Momma’s service an’ all.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
“It’s all done now,” she says, and then smiles slow and weak. “We need to talk about the house, Sadie.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, as Dillon pulls my chair out for me. I kiss him slowly before I let him walk around and sit down across from me.
“You two,” she admonishes but grins ever so slightly.
“Let’s say grace,” she says, bowing her head. “Dear Heavenly Father, we pray in Jesus’ name. Thank you for all ‘a your blessings and for the food you’ve provided for us to eat this evenin’. Thank you for helping Momma to pass on so peacefully, Lord. Please help Daddy to get home safely from his job. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
When she said,
“Daddy,”
it threw me off. But then I realize, she meant little Joe and Elise’s daddy.
“So, Momma left the house to both ‘a us,” Missy says, shoving the twirled pasta on the fork into her mouth. “And there’s the boys we need to think of,” she says, nodding to Seth and Jake.
“I think we should stay here,” Jake says.
“But you’re only thirteen. Seth’s only fifteen. Y’all ain’t livin’ here by yourselves,” Missy declares.
“What about the horses?” Seth says.
“That’s what I’m goin’ ta tell ya,” she says. “Dale ‘n I’ve been talkin’. We think we should rent out our place since we don’t have no animals and move into this house with you two.”
“Oh,” says, Jake. He looks down, then at Seth. “What do you think?” he asks his brother.
“That’s a good idea. That way we don’t gotta move or sell the horses.”
“I just wanted to ask Sadie. What do you think?” Missy asks.
“I love that idea,” I say, finally tasting the pasta. No one is eating. They’re all looking at me. “What?”
“Well, what’s goin’ on with you? Are you stayin?” Jake asks.
I look at Dillon. He smiles so huge it’s as if he’s one big smile. “She’s agreed to stay here. To move into the Page-Vawter house with me.”
“Are y’all getting’ married?” Missy asks, disapprovingly.
“I’ve agreed to marry Dillon,” I say. “But he wants to ask me in a special way when I’m not expecting it.” Missy smiles. It’s the kind of smile that comes naturally and you can’t fake.
“I wanted to ask you boys, and you, Missy, if you’ll approve of me and Sadie getting married?”
“Well, heck yeah!” Missy says. “We can’t have y’all livin’ in sin.”
“I think it’s good,” says Jake. He’s smiling but he’s trying to hide it. I think back to what he said to me on Thursday about the saddle. How he’d told me about Dillon’s tattoo.
“What about you, Seth?” I ask.
He looks emotional. I can’t decide if he’s angry or happy. “So, you’re not goin’ back to California?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“Then, I think it’s good,” he says, looking at me and grinning slightly. He reminds me of that little boy who used to sit at this table in a high chair and make a mess like little Joe is doing now. He’s big now, but his smile is still the same. It warms my heart how much he wants me to stay.
“Thank you,” I say. He nods and then looks away. There’s been too much emotion for him for one week I’m sure.
And just like that, I have a family again. A future. A new life. I feel peaceful for the first time since Dillon and I made love on our gorgeous canopy bed in the house of my dreams.
And then Missy says, “So, where did you run off to today?” My heart drops down into my stomach as my eyes dart up to Dillon who looks puzzled.
“To run an errand.”
“Well, you had me scared. You get a phone call and run off like that. We don’t need no more problems ‘round here. Got enough as it is.” I glare at Missy, who doesn’t seem to notice my annoyance at her big huge mouth as she takes a bite of red coated noodles.
When I look at Dillon, his eyes are big again like under the windowsill. What’s he going to do? He knows I had plans to settle things. That I couldn’t tell him what they were. But, I’m sure it’s excruciatingly painful to be shut out like this. To be lied to by me again.