Renata and the Fall from Grace

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Renata and the Fall from Grace Page 12

by Becky Doughty


  "Ren? Are you okay?" Juliette called from the other side of the door.

  "Leave me alone!" She was so angry she could hardly stand it and she sank down on the closed lid of the toilet, dropping her head into her hands. Deep breath in, blow it out slowly. Repeat.

  She'd always felt a bit like an island, ever since their parents died.

  That terrible day had changed Juliette from the inside out. Although she still performed all her normal activities, that's exactly how it seemed to Renata, that her big sister was performing, holding back the real Juliette, protecting her, hiding her.

  Phoebe, on the other hand, took things to the opposite extreme and went hog-wild. She became obsessed with boys in a driven, competitive way, yet she always seemed to have a plethora of girlfriends hanging around. Phoebe had places to be every day after school, and every night of the week if her grandparents would let her. They didn't, and she balked. There were some terrible rows between Grandpa and Phoebe in those days, and sometimes it irked Renata that the two of them were like two peas in a pod now. Phoebe's favorite man in the whole world was Grandpa, and Renata could see the light in his eyes burn brightest when he looked at Phoebe.

  Renata, unlike either one, continued living her life as though little had changed. She remained driven and purposeful, and she had admittedly few, but close, friends in high school. Over the years, however, those friends had drifted away, either moving, marrying men from other circles, or not marrying at all. John had become her world, and when they became pregnant with Reuben before she was finished with college, she dropped out to be a full time mother. But now tonight, she felt completely alone, abandoned by the last of her allies. She stared at what was left of her phone.

  Finally at her wits' end, she stood up, kicked the pieces of the phone into a pile by the trash can under the vanity, and pressed her ear to the door. Not a sound. Maybe they'd left.

  Nope. There they were. Now both of them were thumbing through her books. But Juliette didn't look mockingly scandalized, she looked concerned. So the little newbie Christian was learning to pass judgment already, huh? She crossed to the master bedroom, snatched up her silky pajama set, and grabbed her laptop. She was going to watch a movie while she took a long, luxurious bath.

  When she finally got out of the tub, she was shriveled and beginning to get hungry. She had some of the soup left over from the night before, and fixings for cheese and crackers, but she had no desire to sit around the cozy little room sharing soup and hors d'oeuvres with them.

  Emerging from the bathroom, Renata scouted the room for the infiltrators, but only Juliette was still there. Renata was surprised by how relieved she was, but she reminded herself firmly that her older sister was leading the charge on this intervention. Juliette eyed her from her place on the sofa. She was no longer reading a novel, but had her own laptop propped on her bent knees.

  "Where's Phoebe?"

  "Upstairs getting our beds ready." Juliette's fingers clicked quietly across her keyboard for a few more moments, then she set it aside and sat forward. "We brought some of Granny G's chili and cornbread for dinner."

  Renata sighed. So much for a quiet meal by herself. Against her will, her mouth began to water at the thought of her grandmother's famous chili.

  Once they were seated on the floor in front of the fire with their bowls of the aromatic hearty soup, Juliette started talking about herself. It seemed to come from out of nowhere, but Renata was okay with it. At least they weren't attacking her. Yet.

  Juliette blushed as she explained that she'd been going through boxes in her garage. "Victor hasn't asked me officially, but we talk about 'when we're married' all the time. I guess I feel a little like if I do this sorting and organizing stuff now, then I'll be able to truly bask when he does ask me. If he asks me."

  "Oh please, Jules. The guy is sick-in-love with you. He probably thinks he's already asked you." Phoebe pointed a scarlet-tipped finger at her. "In fact, you might want to hint about what ring size you wear."

  "Good grief. I wouldn't do that. Not right now, anyway. He's still trying to adjust to the day shift after so many years doing the split shift. He isn't sleeping well at nights yet, and he says he's been caught a few times napping at his desk or in his patrol car. Poor guy. The last thing he needs to worry about right now is buying me jewelry." Juliette smiled contentedly. "I'm not going anywhere."

  Renata studied her older sister over the lip of her water glass as she took a long sip of the icy liquid. She really did look happy, but what Juliette saw in Victor was beyond her.

  "So where will you live?" she asked, forgetting that she'd planned on not joining in on any conversation unless she had to. "Your place or his?"

  "Actually, as much as I love my little place, I don't really want to stay there unless it's just for a short transition time. Too many memories of Mike." She frowned at the reminder of her ex-boyfriend who hadn't wanted to accept a new man in her life.

  "Have you heard from him?" Renata asked.

  "Not personally," Juliette replied. "But Victor assured me he's fine."

  "Wait a minute. Are you telling us he and Victor have spoken?" Renata's eyes widened with curiosity. She set her glass down and took a big bite of the golden bread slathered in honey.

  "Yes," Now Juliette looked sheepish. "I wouldn't mind if I never saw Mike again. But I would feel terrible if I thought he'd died or at least ended up with permanent issues because of his collapse at my place. So I asked, no, I begged, Victor to go see him in the hospital and find out what he could just to set my mind at ease. He didn't want to do it. He thought he might kill the guy. But he did it so that I wouldn't have to go myself. He probably realized that I would, too."

  "Well, that was very sweet of him," Renata said.

  "Sweet?" Phoebe drawled the word like she was talking about iced tea. "That wasn't sweet. That was heroic. There was nothing but bravery and honor in that sacrificial act of love and devotion."

  "Oh my gosh, Phoebe. You're so dramatic!" Renata rolled her eyes.

  The conversation meandered back over their early years, before Gia arrived in their home, and it was just the three of them and Maman and Papa. They shared a room, they shared clothes, they were each other's best friends. Sleepovers were epic, birthday parties were amazing with Maman's dramatic flair, and family outings were always an adventure with the three of them in the backseat and Maman and Papa in the front, holding hands over the console. They sang old show tunes, the Beatles, some Elvis, and the Bon Jovi songs the girls had forced their parents to learn. "You give love a bad name!" they'd croon at the top of their lungs.

  Phoebe pulled from the freezer her favorite ice cream bonbons she'd stashed there when she arrived. They ate the whole carton, enjoying the old camaraderie of their shared pasts, having temporarily shoved the real reason for their gathering under the table to be dealt with at a later time. It never ceased to amaze Renata how effective good food was for settling the tempest of moods. She'd seen it work on John and the boys repeatedly over the years, and even though she knew they'd be picking up where they left off before long, right now, she was actually enjoying her sisters' company.

  ~ ~ ~

  After cleaning up their dinner dishes and putting away leftovers, Renata claimed to be tired, grabbed her pile of books, and headed into the master bedroom. She'd opted to sleep in there instead of on the sofa so she could close the door between her and her jailers. She'd unceremoniously dumped most of the things from the bed back into her suitcase, thinking she'd be heading out as soon as she was able.

  Rather than going to their separate rooms, however, Juliette and Phoebe pushed their way into the master bedroom with Phoebe.

  "Seriously, you two? I won't run, I promise. I just don't want to talk right now, okay?"

  "Nope. Not okay. Phoebe pulled back the covers on the bed and eased beneath them. "Brrr. It's cold in here. Are you sure you guys don't want to go back to the living room? Renata, get over here
. Climb in bed with me so I can warm my feet on you."

  For some reason, whether it was the after-glow of their shared meal, the goofy and sweet memories they'd relived together, or just the improbability of the three of them on this rendezvous, Renata did what she asked. She came around to the other side of the bed and crawled in next to Phoebe. They waited in silence until Juliette emerged from the bathroom.

  "You going to join us or are you just going to stare at us like we're freaks?" Phoebe asked, lifting the edge of the covers for Juliette.

  "Um, can I put on some coffee and get my pajamas first? I want to get out of these tight pants. I ate too much. That ice cream was more than the waistband on these could squeeze in." She headed toward the door, then turned back. "Phoebe, do you want me to bring yours too?"

  Phoebe turned to look at Renata. "Ren, listen. I've been on the receiving end of these interventions before and I know they suck. But I also know there's no way to run once they're in play. I trust you. If you would rather we go to our own rooms right now and leave you alone for the night, we will." She patted her cheek. "I trust you," she repeated.

  Renata was momentarily too surprised to respond, but when she glanced at the radio clock and saw that it was not quite nine o'clock, she shook her head. "No. It's still early. Why don't you two go put your jammies on. I'll make some coffee and we'll figure things out from there, okay? I'm not going to guarantee you that you'll get what you want out of me, but I won't throw anything at your heads. I promise."

  "Speaking of throwing things, was that your phone—or what's left of it—on the bathroom floor?" Juliette's expression got very serious again.

  "Yes. It was time to get a new one anyway." Renata smiled ruefully.

  "Do you need to use my phone to call John?"

  "Nope. He knows I'm not planning on calling him tonight. I told him you were here." She might be on the verge of coming to some kind of truce with her sisters, but she felt John's treachery much deeper, and she still wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. She wasn't as angry as she'd been when she first learned of it, but she thought maybe a good night's sleep would give her some clarity on how to talk to him, how to explain what his actions meant to her.

  "Okay. But if you change your—"

  "I'll ask," Renata interrupted. "Now go get your pajamas, both of you."

  The moment the two were gone, Renata felt the evil compulsion to wedge a chair under the door handle and ignore them when they came back. But she did as she promised and started a pot of coffee. She also filled a couple old-fashioned hot-water bottles and shoved them under the blankets in her bed. Her sisters would be thrilled.

  When the knock came, she was ready.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Who's there?" she hollered through the closed door.

  "Eet ees the beeg bad vulfy heer to zuck yoor blud." Phoebe sounded like Elvira, and although Renata had planned on giving them a hard time in jest, she started giggling, and pulled the door open instead.

  Thankful for the king-sized bed, the girls lined up the pillows along the headboard and sat with their backs propped against it. Renata passed each of her sisters their doctored-up coffees after everyone was settled. "This is just like when we first moved to Grandpa and Granny G's house. Remember our huge bed? Was it only a queen?"

  Phoebe wiggled her hips to make more room for herself. "How did we all fit?"

  "It was pretty tight, but I think we needed it that way." Juliette braved the subject, the only one of them willing to open up that can of worms. "Look. I know you two aren't happy with me contacting Angela. I want to clear the air about that before we go on to anything else." She sat between Renata and Phoebe, ever the peacemaker, ever the safe zone in the middle.

  "First, I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it before I mailed her my letter. I think part of me thought surely she'd never respond. So when she did, I was suddenly in a quandary. I'm sorry if it felt like I went around you or behind your backs. That was not my intention."

  Juliette turned to face Renata the best she could from her position beside her. "I told Phoebe that she doesn't have to participate if she doesn't want to and I want to give you the same freedom. I know this can't be an easy thing for you, either. I shouldn't have forced my timing on either of you."

  "It's okay, Juliette. You just surprised me, that's all. You know how I hate surprises." Then she looked sternly at both of them. "You both know how I hate surprises. But that being said, I'm sorry, too, for the way I reacted to you two coming up to interfere—I mean, intervene—in my life."

  "Forgiven," Phoebe replied immediately. "I would have freaked out even worse if I was in your shoes." She reached across Juliette and squeezed Renata's knee.

  "Forgiven," agreed Juliette. "Okay."

  The room grew silent and Renata knew they were leaving the airwaves open for her to fill. She waited, though, not sure where to begin.

  "Rennie, what's going on with you?" Juliette tried again, more direct this time. "You're acting differently these days. Something is wrong."

  "I know." Renata sighed. Should she tell them about her miscarriages? Would they understand how painful each drop of blood was to her? Would they try to appease her, to pat her on the hand and tell her it would be all right? She didn't know if she'd be able to bear it if they did. But here in this homey room surrounded by tough love, she realized she did want to talk to her sisters. She wanted to let them in for the first time in as long as she could remember.

  "I think God is punishing me." The words came out all wrong… or did they? That might not have been what she intended to say, but maybe those were the words her heart longed to release.

  "Um, why?" Phoebe, who didn't practice any religion except that of self-idolization, was the first to ask. Renata was surprised into continuing.

  "You know how badly I want a little girl, right? Well, every time we get pregnant, God gives us another boy." She toyed with one of the buttons on her pajama shirt. "We've been trying to have another baby now for almost a year, but I can't get pregnant."

  Neither sister said anything and she was afraid to look at them.

  "Actually," her eyes welled up, her throat tightening around the words. "I can get pregnant. I just can't stay pregnant long enough to tell anyone about it. Besides John, of course."

  Juliette reached over and patted her hand and Renata cringed, preparing herself for the dreaded words. But they didn't come. "I didn't know you were trying. And here I've made this whole last year all about me and Mike and Victor. I'm so sorry I haven't been more sensitive, Renata."

  "Do you remember that day I came over to help you with your dog?"

  "The day I found Bob? Yes." Juliette's eyes got really wide. "Oh no! I was really surprised when you were free on a Sunday afternoon. But I didn't even ask if you were okay." Then her hand flew to her mouth. "And when you came out after talking to John, you were crying! Renata!"

  "Yeah. I had just lost our second baby that week; the first miscarriage was in April. It was terrible. I was terrible. It was no wonder John took the boys and ditched me."

  Phoebe hadn't said a word, but when Renata peered around Juliette at her, she was shocked to see tears streaming down her sister's cheeks. "Pheobe? Are you okay?"

  Phoebe nodded and swiped at her tears with the back of her hands. "Yes. I'm terribly sorry, Rennie. I'm so sad for you, for those babies, for John." Then she turned beseeching eyes on her. "Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you let us help you get through it? It's a terrible thing to have to go through alone, thinking no one can possibly understand." She sniffed loudly, then continued. "Well, maybe we can't understand your pain, but we do know your heart. And we love you. We're sisters."

  "I know," Renata murmured, seriously taken aback by Phoebe's heartfelt reaction. "I—I'm sorry. I just felt so torn up inside and I didn't know how to talk about it. Then last November I lost a third baby. I was quite a bit farther along with that one and my doctor told me we had to wait
at least six months before we try again." She reached up and covered her eyes with one hand and Juliette slipped her arms around her, pulling her close. Phoebe slid out of place and crawled around to sit cross-legged on the bed facing the other two.

  "I don't think I can go through it again, though," she sobbed. "I can't bear the up and down emotions. I can't stand the thought that I might have had three little girls, as precious to each other as my sisters are to me, but I'll never hold them, never smell their little baby necks, never kiss their tiny toes. I feel disemboweled most of the time, like there's just scar tissue inside of me, hard and unreceptive, unnatural, not motherly." She used the hem of her top to dab at her eyes. "And John. He'd never admit it to me, but I know he's relieved. Of course he wants a little girl, but not nearly as badly as I do. He didn't have sisters like you growing up." She held out a hand and they each placed one of their own in hers. "He doesn't know what he's missing."

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And I can't help but wonder if God is trying to teach me a lesson because I'm hard and unreceptive to people. I'm not a nurturer like you, Juliette, and I'm not fun and full of life like you, Phoebe. I'm hard and stiff and inflexible."

  "That's not possible, Ren," Phoebe stated with certainty. "I don't even claim to be a Christian and I know God wouldn't pull that kind of stuff. He may leave you hanging about the why, but He doesn't punish people like that. I used to think that about Maman and Papa, that God was punishing me for being a little too interested in boys at my age, so to get back at Him, I chased them even harder."

  Phoebe looked down at their three hands clasped between them. "I learned that people are the ones who punish, Ren, not God. God may discipline, but He doesn't punish." The expression on Phoebe's face was one she hadn't seen before, and she wondered where this wild-child sister of hers had kept hidden all this wisdom.

 

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