The Boarding House (22 page)

Having said her piece, Sophie exited with Ellie and Wyatt in tow.

“Right,” Garrett said, then turned around and popped the top on the bottle, grabbed a glass and walked out of the kitchen, leaving them all behind.

He stomped all the way down the hall while his sense of injustice continued to build, locked himself inside his room, poured a glass of champagne, popped in a video of Ellie and Wyatt at the age of ten and proceeded to get shit-faced drunk while Ellie lay wide-eyed and sleepless in her bedroom, waiting for morning.

It was just after daybreak
when Ellie tiptoed out of the bathroom. She didn’t want to wake Wyatt and explain why she wasn’t sleeping in, but according to the checklist she’d gotten from the abortion center, there were things that had to be done before she arrived.

1. Shower.

Check.

2. Shoes with socks and a two-piece loose-fitting outfit.

Check.

She got the loose-fitting outfit, but the need for socks seemed odd. She supposed it would

all become clear after she got there.

3. Proper underwear for a sanitary pad.

Check.

That meant the thong underwear she didn’t own wouldn’t have worked. Goody for her.

4. Do not eat or drink anything for four hours before procedure.

Check.

No problem. At the moment, food was not a priority in her life.

5. You may bring a support person with you, but NO CHILDREN ARE ALLOWED.

Except for the one she was bringing with her.

Ironic, but logical. No children allowed, alive or dead.

6. You may bring a book to pass the time, which will extend from two to three hours.

Not so much.

So what kind of reading should one take to an abortion? War and Peace? To Kill a Mockingbird? Maybe Treasure Island because she definitely felt deserted.

Ellie got her purse, checking again to make sure the needed cash was still there. It was going to cost exactly $395.00 to remove her last tie to Daddy. Ellie had decided years ago that it wasn’t safe to be a child, and the easiest way to protect them was not to bring them into the world.

The first thing she heard when she opened the door was the sound of snoring coming from the end of the hall.

Good. He was sleeping in.

She walked quietly through the house, and then to her car. After the dry run she’d made last week, she knew the way and didn’t want to be late. The abortion clinic operated on a first-come, first-served basis and the sooner this was over, the better.

It was six minutes to eight when she pulled into the parking lot. When another car pulled in to the space beside her, Ellie got out and headed to the entrance. She hadn’t planned on standing outside for everyone to see, but she wanted to be the first in line. As soon as that became fact, she relaxed. She’d done her job just by getting here. The rest was up to the people inside.

She heard footsteps coming up behind her before being swarmed by the cloying scent of a very sweet perfume. At that point she caught a glimpse of the woman’s reflection in the front door glass. She had painted-on eyebrows giving her a look of permanent surprise, yellow-blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and lips that looked like she’d bitten into a hive of bees. A serious case of collagen overload, but Ellie knew it wasn’t proper to judge others so she looked away. She would have liked to spend these few minutes in silence, but it appeared that wouldn’t be the case.

“Hey sugar, how’s it going?”

Instead of turning around to speak face to face, Ellie looked at the reflection. “Doesn’t the fact that I am here already answer your question?”

The woman laughed. “Sorry. Nervous chitchat and all that. So I’m Bev. What’s your name?”

“Alice. My name is Alice.”

Bev laughed. “As in Wonderland, I guess.”

“As in Wonderland.”

Bev stepped sideways, obviously to get a better view of Ellie’s face. “Wow, you’re young.”

“Yes I am.”

“Are you nervous?”

Ellie sighed. “Not anymore.”

“So I guess this is your first time?” Bev asked.

The question startled Ellie, enough so she actually turned around to face her inquisitor. “It’s not yours?”

“Naw. Third. Maybe third time’s a charm and all that.”

“Did you never hear of using protection?”

Bev arched an eyebrow. “Where do you get off asking me that? You obviously fucked up, too, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Anger shot through Ellie so fast it was all she could do not to hit her. “No. I didn’t fuck up. I was raped. Stop talking to me.” She turned around and unconsciously hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself as small as possible.

“Sorry, kid.”

“So am I.”

The last few minutes were passed in an uncomfortable silence. When they finally opened the doors, Ellie made a beeline for the check-in desk.

They wanted an ID and the cash before sending her to the lab. She wanted a life do-over so she supplied what they needed.

When she finished at the lab, she was sent to view the “informative video” about what to expect. After a few moments of viewing, she decided they had understated
informative
. She had an actual moment of shock at how the procedure would take place, but it didn’t lessen her intent. It did occur to her that the person who needed to be watching this was Daddy. He was the one who needed to live with this on his conscience, not her. She remembered Momma telling her once that in life, it was always the women who carried the burden because Eve had sinned in the Garden of Eden. Ellie mentally added Eve to the list of people who’d screwed up her life.

From there, she was taken to a counselor. The first thing Ellie noticed was the woman’s pink blouse, and that even though she wasn’t smiling, she had kind eyes. In made Ellie relax.

“Come in, have a seat,” the lady said. “My name is Mrs. Cashion and you’re Elizabeth Wayne, is that correct?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ellie said, sat down, crossed her legs at the ankles and folded her hands in her lap as Sophie had taught her to do.

“My job is to make sure that you fully understand your decision and to make sure you’ve weighed all your options, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Elizabeth, had you been on any birth control?”

“No, ma’am.”

Mrs. Cashion frowned. “So you were sexually active without protection?”

Ellie frowned. While she understood why she’d asked, she didn’t like the woman’s tone. “I was raped.”

Mrs. Cashion sighed. “I see. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, ma’am, so was I.”

The counselor eyed Ellie closer. Something was off about this young girl’s manner, but it wasn’t something she could put her finger on. Maybe it was because she was so matter-of-fact. There were no tears, no embarrassment—just a cold statement of facts.

“Did you ever consider carrying the baby to full term and putting it up for adoption?”

“No.”

“May I ask why?”

“Is what I tell you confidential, like between a lawyer and client
 . . .
or a doctor and patient?”

“No, but—”

“Then it stays with me. I’m eighteen. This is my decision.”

The counselor nodded. “I can recommend a couple of kinds of birth control protection for when—”

“Mrs. Cashion—”

“Yes?”

“We can save ourselves some time right now if I tell you where I’m coming from. I won’t be using birth control because I don’t plan to ever get married. I don’t intend to have children, nor will I be in a relationship, sexual or otherwise.”

“My dear, it’s obvious that the rape has traumatized you to the point of shutting down. I would hate to see you waste your life in this manner. With guidance and therapy you can learn to move past this and live a full and productive life.”

Ellie leaned forward. Her tone hovered on angry—her words firing in rapid succession. “You don’t know anything about me, and I can assure you that no amount of counseling—not even until the Rapture comes down—will change anything about me. I am broken. It happened years ago—long before the rape, and there’s not enough glue in the world to put me together again. I understand there is some information I need to know about my aftercare?”

Mrs. Cashion’s cheeks were burning, so she knew she was flushed. She’d been doing this service for several years and thought she had long ago learned to control her emotions, but for some reason, she had an overwhelming urge to cry.

“Yes. I’ll go over the details with you and then you’ll be ready. You do know they’ll do an ultrasound before the actual procedure is done, don’t you?”

Ellie’s voice was flat, her face expressionless. “Lady, I don’t care what it takes, as long as they get this out of me.”

“Elizabeth? Can you hear me?
The procedure is over. You need to wake up.”

Ellie heard, but she didn’t want to come back. She and Wyatt were playing in the creek, wading and chasing each other up and down the water until they were both soaked to the bone. If they went back now, Momma would know where they’d been and she’d specifically told them not to get wet.

“Elizabeth. Wake up. Wake up.”

Ellie moaned. She hurt. She must have fallen on something. Momma was for sure going to be mad now.

“Elizabeth, wake up.”

Ellie opened her eyes. She wasn’t at the creek. She wasn’t even in her house. Then she saw the uniform and remembered. “Is it over?” she mumbled.

“Yes. How do you feel?”

“Relieved.”

The nurse sighed. “No, I mean physically, how do you feel?”

“Dizzy. Thirsty. Hurts.”

“The dizzy part will wear off. You can have ice chips in a little bit, and we’ll give you something for the pain.”

“When can I go home?”

“In an hour or so
 . . .
just as soon as the nitrous oxide wears off and you’re steady on your feet. Did you come alone?”

“Yes.”

The nurse patted her arm. “It won’t be long.”

Ellie nodded.

It was over. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Just knowing that the last remnants of the rape were finally gone was all she needed to hear.

About forty minutes later, she walked out of the clinic, past the curious stares of the women still waiting, lighter in body and spirit than when she’d gone in. She got into her car and went through the drive-through at McDonald’s, ordered breakfast burritos for three, hash browns and a Pepsi, which she drank on the way home.

The sanitary pads she’d bought yesterday were still on the floorboard. They were her alibi. She knew women used their monthly period for a multitude of excuses. It should serve her needs as well.

She was shaky by the time she finally arrived and grateful the drive was over. Grabbing her breakfast and the sack with her pads, she went inside. It was just after ten thirty.

Garrett was running water into the coffeepot when she walked in the back door. Miserable from a hangover, he snapped.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Getting breakfast and Kotex. I can tell by the snotty tone of your voice that you feel like hell, but don’t take your hangover out on me. I have my own shit to deal with, okay?”

Garrett groaned. The sharp tone in her voice felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“Don’t fucking shout,” he mumbled.

Sophie entered just as the curse word left his mouth.

“I had no idea you were just getting up, but it appears from your bad behavior that you should have stayed in bed. Do not curse in front of your children.”

Wyatt slipped in behind Sophie. “Do I smell food?”

Ellie smiled. “I brought burritos and hash browns from McDonald’s.”

When she opened the sack, Daddy gagged and bolted from the room.

Wyatt laughed. “Guess the smell of food didn’t agree with him.”

Ellie ate most of her burrito then washed it down with juice. “You guys finish the rest between you. I’m not feeling so great so I’m going back to bed.”

Sophie frowned. “Are you getting sick, honey?”

“No. Just getting my period.”

Wyatt held up a hand. “TMI. TMI.”

Sophie’s frown deepened. “What does that mean?”

“Too much information,” he muttered, then grabbed the rest of his food and disappeared.

Ellie sighed. “Sorry.”

“You pay him no mind,” Sophie said. “You lie around all day if you need to. In fact, you can spend all the time in bed that you want right now, so enjoy. No more school or job—just a summer to get your head into a mode for the future.”