The Boarding House (4 page)

Ellie stuffed a whole cookie into her mouth and strode out of the kitchen, dragging her backpack behind her like she intended to wipe out her tracks.

Doris paid her no mind. Wyatt was the calm one, but Ellie was always verging on hysterics. Lord only knew what the problem was this time.

Ellie dropped her backpack inside the door to her bedroom as Wyatt made himself scarce, then dashed across the hallway into Fern’s room without knocking.

“Momma. We need to talk,” Ellie cried, startling Fern to the point that she promptly spilled the handful of pills she’d been about to take. They hit the floor with a faint
click-clack
sound and rolled out of sight.

Fern turned, her pale, fleshy face shaking with anger.

“I swear to goodness, Ellie, you scared the life out of me. You know better than to come into my room without knocking. Now get down on the floor and find Momma’s pills. Do you hear?”

Ellie sighed. “Yes, ma’am. I hear.” She dropped to her knees and began sweeping them up, digging them out from beneath the dresser, from underneath a rocker, and from beneath the bed.

“’Zackly how many pills did you have?” Ellie asked as she dropped what she had into her mother’s outstretched palm.

Fern frowned. “I’m not sure,” she said, and downed them without counting. “Now what on earth is so important?”

Ellie put her hands on her hips and cocked them to one side. There was a can-you-believe-it tone in her voice when she loudly announced, “I got my period. Today. On the way home from school. What do you think about that?”

The expression on Fern Wayne’s face hovered between shock and disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“I’m bleeding, Momma. So I either got my period, or I’m dying.”

“Lord, Lord,” Fern muttered and stumbled toward her rocker. “I’m going to have to think about this.”

Ellie frowned. “While you’re thinking, I’m bleeding. What do I do? I already ruined my panties for sure.”

Fern pressed a shaky hand to her lips. “They’ll wash,” she muttered. “Let me think. My pads are going to be too big for you. Maybe a panty liner will work for now. I’m going to have to call your Daddy. He can pick up some small pads for you on the way home.”

Ellie frowned. “I don’t want Daddy picking up my pads. This is girl stuff.”

Fern smiled. It was a rare thing to see, and Ellie found herself staring.

Fern patted her on the head. “I know, but Daddy does a lot of our shopping. He buys Momma’s pads. He’ll know what to pick out for you, too.”

Ellie’s chin jutted. “Whatever. At least this will be the end of the games,” she muttered, and then froze. She’d never said that out loud before except to Wyatt. She wasn’t supposed to tell. Maybe Momma didn’t hear.

But Fern heard. “What do you mean, the end of the games? What games?”

Ellie shrugged. “Nothing. I didn’t mean it.”

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.

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?”

Suddenly, 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.