Shelter Me (10 page)

"I
am
careful," I insisted. Angry tears were starting to form in my eyes, but I held them back.
 

"You think Mark's going to stay with you if you're always ruining everything? Making a mess all over the place?"

She waited, as if she actually expected an answer.

"Yes, Mom," I said, finally. "I think he's going to stay with me no matter what, because he loves me. Even though he doesn't have to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mom snapped. "You think I don't care about my children? I won't listen to your emotional blackmail. I just won't."

Martha finally spoke. "Mom, please," she said. Her voice was quivering. "Mari feels bad enough already. It was just an accident."

Mom pealed into the driveway and violently threw the car into park, so that the whole body jolted. "Stay out of this, Martha. You don't want to talk to me right now. Everybody get in the house."

We all obediently filed in, leaving her alone out in the driveway. I half expected to hear the engine roar as she squealed out into the street, but she just turned off the car and sat there as we all filed in, my dad clutching a fast food bag and Martha still holding her untouched breakfast sandwich.

I retreated to my room immediately, but it was only a matter of time before Martha came knocking at my door. I knew it was her, from the sound.

"Hey," she said, smiling hesitantly. She sat next to me on the bed. My yearbook was open on my lap, but I wasn't looking at it. I'd thrown my coffee-soaked dress in a pile in the corner, changing into sweats and an old tee-shirt, but I could still smell it, still feel a slight sticky residue on my skin. "You okay?"

I shrugged. "I don't know why she has to get like that."

Martha hesitated. "I took this class," she said. "Psychology stuff. We talked about how sometimes people get so angry they can't control it. It's scary for them too. They don't want to be that way."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"Mom loves you," Martha said. "I know it's hard, but...she really worries, and it's not just about her thinking that you're clumsy. She worries that you can't take advice and you won't be able to have a happy life. She's really afraid for you. She just has a weird way of showing that she cares."

"Well," I said, slamming the yearbook shut. "I'm tired of it."

"At least you'll be out of here soon," she said, optimistically. "I have to admit, sometimes it gets a little bit lonely at school, but I kind of hate coming home."

I smiled at her. It was nice for someone to acknowledge it.

"Sometimes I think Mary only acted out because she wanted to escape. Any amount of time she could spend away from here, and finally she figured out if she got herself..." She trailed off. "Well. I don't know. Whatever. I think she got it worse than I ever did. But you..." She sighed. "I don't know, Mari. Sometimes I don't really understand what's going on inside your head, but I don't think there's any reason to treat somebody the way Mom treats you sometimes."

I heard the front door closing.
 

"That's my cue," I said, getting up. "I better start cleaning."

"Come on, let me just pay for the detailing," Martha said. "I feel bad. I have some saved up still, from working at that yogurt place by the college."

"It's fine," I said, smiling. "I can do it."

I stopped by the hall closet to gather up some cleaners, brushes and a roll of paper towels. I kept my eyes on the floor as I made my way downstairs, past the kitchen and living room, towards the front door.

"Where are you going with all that stuff, honey?"

My mom's voice came from the kitchen. I froze in my tracks.

"Going to clean..." my voice broke. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Going to clean up my mess," I said.

"What?" I could picture her making a dismissive gesture, though I didn't turn around. "Don't worry about that, I'll just take it in tomorrow."

"No," I said. "You don't have to. I'll clean it."

"Don't be silly." My mom's voice was soft and kind, just like when I was little. It was tempting to follow her advice, but I knew that it would come back to bite me later if I did. "I know you want me to clean up my messes."

"I never said that!" my mom insisted, as I walked out into the driveway, letting the door shut behind me.

I soaked up everything I could from the carpet, before spraying everything down with an all-purpose cleaner and wiping and wiping. The smell was persistent, so I pushed the front seats forward as far as they would go, looking for the source.

"Hey, Mari." I heard the squeak of bicycle brakes from out in the street, and lifted my head.

"Jacob." My heart did a little jump. "I didn't see you at church."

"Yeah, I was actually doing a job interview. Kind of weird timing, but it's retail, so, you know. Gotta be flexible. Turns out they were looking for someone with a little more experience. Not sure why they called me in the first place, but hey." He wheeled his bike over to me. "What'd I miss? Anything good?"

"Oh, you know. The usual." I balled up some of the damp paper towels. "I spilled some coffee in here on the way home, though, so that's pretty much the most exciting thing that's happened all day."

"Oh, bummer. My dad did that once, but it all went in the center console. Fried the electrical system, so all the lights started flashing, and the wipers switched on, and the alarm started going off. I'm sure it wasn't funny to him at the time, but I was standing in the driveway and I gotta say it was kind of hilarious."

I giggled. "Okay, that's pretty good. Yeah, I was in the back seat, thankfully."

"Well that's nothing that can't be fixed."

"I guess. I think I've gotten everything, though, but it still smells."

"Well, some of the nooks and crannies are almost impossible - but did you wipe real good in the crevice under the seat?"

"You know, I missed that." I unspooled some paper towels and wiped, and sure enough, they came back stained with coffee. "Thanks. I must not be thinking straight."

"Well, sure. All your caffeine ended up in the car instead of in your bloodstream. Here." He grabbed a handful of paper towels. "Let me see if I can get into some of the nooks and crannies."

I stepped back and stretched a little, feeling some aches and pops in my back. I hadn't realized how hard I was working to clean up the stupid mess.

The front door swung open. It was my mom.

"Hey, Jacob." She waved, and Jacob waved back.

"Hey, Mrs. Moore," he said. "I was just riding by, and I thought I'd stop and help Mari out a little bit. Don't want your car to smell in the morning."

"I appreciate that, Jacob. You're very sweet. Marissa, can you come inside for a moment? I need to speak to you."

I walked into the house, slowly, not looking back.

"Mari," she said, her tone low and slightly dangerous again when I reached the doorway. "Remember we've talked about this? Spending time with Jacob?"

"That was ages ago," I said. "We're both grown-ups now."

"Still. If Mrs. Warren finds out that you two were spending time together, she's going to come right back to me. And I don't feel like having that conversation."

"You're always saying that." I couldn't look her in the eyes. "Has she ever actually told you that she doesn't like me? That she doesn't want Jacob spending time with me?"

"She doesn't have to." My mom's lips were pursed. "And now, with Mark courting you - do you really think it's appropriate to spend so much time with another boy?"

"We're just friends, mom. We've always only been..." There was no point in finishing my sentence. I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't listening.

"All I know about Jacob is what I've told you a thousand times. He's a nice boy." She frowned at me. "Don't you ruin him."

She turned and stalked upstairs to the master bedroom, leaving me angry and baffled in the hallway.

When I went back outside, Jacob was still there, scrubbing his heart out. I took a moment to watch the muscles in his arms ripple, before I spoke.

"Hey," I said, softly. "Thanks for your help, but I can take it from here."

"You sure?" He pulled his head out of the car. "I don't mind helping out."

I cleared my throat. I could practically feel Mom watching me from her bedroom window. "I think you'd better go."

"Oh. I'm sorry." He set down the cleaning supplies and stepped back. "Is...is everything okay? I wondered, when your mom called you inside."

"It's fine," I insisted. "I just - I really need to get this finished and get back inside. And I'm sure you've got stuff to do."

"Well, yeah. I guess." He headed back towards his bike. "Have a good one, Mari."

I nodded, but didn't wave as he rode away.

The smell was all but gone.

CHAPTER NINE

Jacob

"Dear Lord Jesus, thank you so much for all the blessings you've given me. I want to ask you for your grace..."

It was open prayer time. Every once in a while, Pastor Dave devoted a few minutes of the service to have us all kneel, and if the spirit moved us, pray in front of the congregation. I didn't participate. I preferred to keep my prayers between me and God, but plenty of people seemed to relish the opportunity. I fidgeted on the floor, trying to find a position that wasn't horribly uncomfortable. These pews weren't designed for kneeling.

"Lord, I want to thank you for all the blessings in my life. I know sometimes I forget to be grateful, and at times I let myself get distracted by all the temporary problems..."

"Dear God, we forget Your grace all too easily..."

"Dear God, please show me the path..."

Suddenly, a familiar voice perked my ears up. At first I thought I must be going crazy, because Marissa never breathed a word of prayer in public. But there was no mistaking her voice, quiet though it was.

"Dear Lord, I'm so grateful for all the blessings you've given me. I'd like to ask for your grace particularly as we-"

"Dear God," came a booming voice from the corner, which I recognized as Mrs. Linden, one of the more...outspoken mothers in the community. "Thank you for all your blessings! I'd like to offer a prayer for those in our congregation who might be unwilling or unable to speak up for their needs."

She kept on going. In the far corner, Marissa continued her prayer, murmuring quieter and quieter. I cracked an eye open to see if anyone else was reacting, but they all kept their heads bowed and their eyes shut.

I wanted more than anything to interrupt, to tell everyone to shut up already and let Marissa pray. But if there was anything that would humiliate her more than being prayed over during a service, it was that. So, with a very real effort, I kept my mouth shut.

I heard a whisper-quiet "amen" from the far corner. By then, someone else had started in with another prayer of their own.
 

After the service, as we all gathered in the social hall like usual, I overheard a few people approaching Mrs. Linden with kind words about the prayer.
 

"That was beautiful," someone was saying. "Thank you so much for sharing."

"Oh, it was just in my heart," she said, with a beatific smile.

I looked around the room. Mark had managed to get himself absorbed in a conversation with Pastor Dave, so I sidled over to Marissa.

"That was a really nice prayer," I said. "What I could hear of it, anyway."

She cracked a smile. "Story of my life, huh?"

"I'll say." I glanced at Mark, but he didn't seem to notice we were talking. "I would have said something, but I didn't want to embarrass you any more."

"Thanks," she said. "I guess Mark thought the same thing."

"I guess," I said.

"I mean, obviously she couldn't hear me."

"Well, let's hope so. Otherwise we're dealing with a whole nother situation."

She grinned. "Thanks, Jacob. You just made my day about a thousand percent better."

"Well, glad I could help." My heart felt like it wanted to leap out of my chest.
 

"Marissa!" Mark was calling for her without even turning around, walking towards the door. "Come on. We need to get going. I have homework."

My own parents seemed to be drifting towards the parking lot, so I followed at a respectful distance. As they walked away, I swore I heard Mark say something like "you need to speak up more." I gritted my teeth until my jaw hurt.

"You okay, honey?" My mom was looking at me with concern; I must have had some kind of horrible rictus grin on my face.

"Yeah, fine," I said. "Just got a headache."

"Did you eat something?"

"Yeah," I lied. "It's fine. It'll go away on its own, they always do."

"Hey!" A voice came, brightly, from further up the driveway. I turned around, slowly. It was Lily, hurrying down to meet us.

"Are you guys leaving already?" she asked. "Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Warren!"

"Hi, Lily," my mom said. "Yeah, I think we need to hit the road."

"Oh, that's too bad," Lily said, clearly addressing me. "I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you. It's been a while."

"Why don't you two exchange numbers?" my dad piped up.
 

"Oh, that's a great idea, as long as you don't mind!" Lily chirped, glancing from my dad to my mom, and then back again.

"Absolutely, I'm always happy when Jacob makes a new friend."

"Great!" Lily scribbled her number on a sticky note - where she'd gotten it from, I had no idea - and handed it to me. "Text me, okay? Or call. Whatever. We should hang out sometime."

"Sure," I said, managing a smile. "Absolutely."

I stayed slumped in the backseat on the drive home, not participating in the conversation, even when Marissa's name came up. My mom glanced in the rear-view, clearly expecting some kind of input from me, but I had nothing to say. Nothing they'd want to hear, at any rate.

At home, I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. I had to start filling out more job applications, but at this point, there was nothing I'd rather do less.
 

My phone started buzzing on the beside table. I didn't recognize the number, but the area code was nearby.