Blood Wounds

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  "That's not true," I said. "You're his daughter. You mean everything to him."

  "As long as I behave myself," Brooke said. "Know my place."

  I laughed.

  "This isn't a joke, Willa," Brooke said. "Not for me. It never has been for me. Remember that big fight we got into years ago?"

  "I don't remember ever fighting with you," I said. "You must have dreamed it."

  "Oh, no," Brooke said. "I didn't dream it. I was six or seven. Alyssa and I kept some of our toys at Daddy's, for when we visited, and Mom said I could still keep stuff with him now that you and Terri were there, but I should make sure you didn't play with our toys or wear our clothes. They were ours, not yours."

  "I knew that," I said. "I wasn't allowed in your room unless you invited me. Mom was really firm about that."

  "Well, you must not have cared," Brooke said. "Because I came over one day and I found you playing with my dolls. So I grabbed a doll from you and you threw something at me and I started hitting you. We really went at each other. You sure you don't remember?"

  I shook my head. "I remember your dolls," I said. "And a dollhouse. I loved it when you'd come over and we played with your dollhouse. But I don't remember any fight."

  "Terri tried to break it up," Brooke said. "But she couldn't. Alyssa had thrown herself into it. Remember how she used to bite? Daddy came in, and it must have seemed like two against one. I don't think I've ever seen him that angry. Not until this week. Alyssa was screaming and you were crying, and Daddy picked me up and carried me to the car and drove me back to Mom's. He exiled me. I never forgave him."

  It came back to me. I could hear Brooke shrieking as Jack dragged her from the house. I could picture Alyssa, not yet four, hysterical on the living room floor.

  Mom pushed me into my bedroom, slapped me hard against my cheek, and slammed the door as she left. Over the sounds of my sobs, I could hear her comforting Alyssa.

  But Alyssa didn't calm down. She kept screaming for her mommy, for her daddy, for Brooke. Then Jack came back and took Alyssa outside, where they played as though nothing had happened.

  Mom came into my room then. I was in a state of rage. I yelled that she loved Brooke and Alyssa more than she loved me, that all I wanted was to go back home and be with Daddy and Granny Coffey.

  Mom began shaking me. "Is that what you want?" she screamed. "You want to be treated like this?" She slapped me again, harder than I ever remember being hit, even by Daddy at his worst.

  Then she burst into tears, and I was the one who comforted her, insisted it was all my fault, begged her to love me and let me stay.

  Jack and Alyssa came back in. Mom wiped away her tears and kissed me again and again. "Don't tell Jack," she said. "I promise I'll never hit you again if you don't tell Jack. Promise me right now you'll never tell him."

  "I promise," I said. "Just don't send me back to Daddy."

  I heard her go to the bathroom, splash water on her face, and run downstairs. I stayed alone in my bedroom until my face didn't sting anymore and I felt like I could breathe again.

  When I went to the kitchen, I found Mom, Jack, and Alyssa behaving as though nothing had happened. Jack was stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce. He put the ladle down, picked me up, and gave me a big kiss on my still-red cheek. I winced.

  "Brooke really hit you hard," he said. "But don't worry, Willa. She and I had a long talk, and she knows better than to ever hurt you again."

  I could feel Mom's eyes boring into me. I didn't want Jack to think Brooke had been the one to slap me, but if I told him the truth, Mommy might send me back to Daddy.

  I burst out crying.

  "Oh, pumpkin," Jack said, kissing my cheek and stroking my hair. "Brooke was a bad girl, but sisters can be like that. You forgive her, don't you?"

  I sniffled a yes.

  "Say, 'I love you, Jack,'" he instructed me.

  "I love you, Jack," I said.

  He laughed. "Love you right back," he said, gently putting me down on the floor. "Now go help Terri and Lyssie set the table."

  I could have told Brooke all of this. But I wasn't about to play My Suffering Is Greater Than Your Suffering. It's a game I'd already lost to Trace and Kelli Marie and Kadi and Krissi.

  Besides, Mom never hit me again. We both had lived up to our promises.

  "So that's why you're going to USC?" I said instead. "Because Jack sent you home to your mother's?"

  "I don't want to be here when Daddy adopts you," Brooke said. "I don't. It hurts how much he loves you, how easy he loves you. I can deal with it when I think of you as someone I share a house with. But I'm not ready for you to be my sister. I'm sorry, Willa, but I'm not."

  "I'm not Sweetbriar," I said. "You can't just discard me."

  But looking at the sister I'd both idolized and betrayed, I was no longer so sure she couldn't.

  Twenty-Four

  "HI," MOM SAID. "Am I interrupting?"

  Actually she was. It was Sunday morning and Jack had insisted on taking Brooke and Alyssa to church. Mom was in the kitchen, trying to catch up with her schoolwork, and I had taken advantage of an empty house to go to the den and use the computer.

  First, I'd written an e-mail to Lauren, trying to describe what Pryor had been like. It was easier to focus on that than to try to describe how I'd felt learning about Budge, my sisters, Trace. That would come at some point, maybe when Lauren came back. Maybe by then, I'd understand everything I was feeling—the sorrow, the fear, even the hope.

  But for now, I limited myself to a brief and unflattering description of my behavior at the funeral. Lauren had been my best friend since I moved to Westbridge. I wouldn't have wanted her to see me act like that, but with her an ocean away, I felt safe telling her about my hysteria.

  Once I pressed Send, I turned my attention to trying to locate Uncle Martin. Somewhere I had an uncle, an aunt, and eight cousins. The time had come to introduce myself to them, with or without Mom's knowledge and consent.

  "Come on in," I said. "I just finished sending an e-mail to Lauren."

  "You have a lot to tell her," Mom said. "So much has happened in the past couple of weeks. We haven't really talked since the motel."

  That was true enough. After my confrontation with Brooke, I hadn't been too chatty. I'd spent most of Saturday doing ten days' worth of schoolwork and telling myself repeatedly that cutting wouldn't solve anything.

  "I'm still not sure I'm ready to talk about Pryor," Mom said. "And there are other things we need to discuss."

  "I guess it's still too disturbing for you," I said. "Budge dying. The way they asked you to identify his body."

  To my surprise, Mom shook her head. "I know that's what Jack thinks," she said. "But I'm glad Budge is dead. I'm glad I saw his body, so I'll never have to doubt. I used to dream about killing him, but I knew I'd lose you if I did. So I ran away. But I was still scared of him, what he might do to us. No, what's been upsetting me is knowing how close he came. I don't know what might have happened if Faye hadn't called the police."

  "I remembered things about him when I was in Pryor," I said. "Not all of them bad. But I remember him hurting you."

  "I could have lived with that," she said. "I did live with it. But he hurt you too. It took me a while to understand how bad that was. It was how I'd been punished when I was a kid. It was how I punished you. But Budge couldn't control it. I was terrified one day I wouldn't be able to stop him. So I ran. Budge didn't hurt you anymore. I took over for him."

  "You haven't hit me in years," I said. "I hardly remember that you ever did."

  "I was so scared Jack would find out," Mom said. "I knew how he felt about violence, about punishments. I was sure he'd see what damaged goods I was, how little I deserved him. Then we'd be on our own again. Jack was our protection, from Budge, from Pryor, from everything, really."

  "We're safe now," I said. "We're in our home and we're safe."

  "We're safe," Mom said. "But I have to talk to you about our home. J
ack doesn't have the heart. It's better if I explain."

  "I know about Alyssa and Brooke," I said. "It's going to be you and Jack and me next year. I don't mind."

  "It's more complicated than that," Mom said. "It's about money, our financial situation."

  "What about it?" I asked.

  "Val earns a lot of money," Mom said. "A lot more than Jack. Val pays for most of the girls' expenses. Jack pays his share, but it's more the day-to-day things, food, utilities. Val pays Alyssa's tuition and her tennis coaches, and for the country club and the violin lessons and Sweetbriar."

  "I know that, Mom," I said.

  "Val also pays for the house," Mom said. "That was the arrangement she and Jack made when she got transferred to Shanghai. She covered the down payment and pays three quarters of the mortgage. Jack pays the rest."

  I remembered what Alyssa said about Val being tired of paying the mortgage and started to feel sick.

  "We knew things would be tighter when Brooke went to college," Mom said. "But Val agreed to keep paying her share of the mortgage for the first year after that. Alyssa would stay with us until you graduated high school. Then she'd move back with Val, we'd sell the house, and Jack and I would find someplace we could afford. I was hoping to have my degree by then, and with both our salaries, we'd do okay. Jack would pay child support for Alyssa and help out with Brooke's college expenses, but we figured if we were very careful, we'd find a way to help you with your tuition. Especially if Brooke got an athletic scholarship. What we'd save in her tuition, we hoped to apply to yours."

  "I'm not worried about college," I said, frantically trying to keep Mom from telling me what I knew was coming. "I always figured I'd work my way through. And I can pay off college loans. It's okay, Mom. I never thought it would be handed to me."

  "I'm glad, honey," Mom said. "But that's only part of it. With Alyssa leaving in July, Val's payments are going to stop altogether. And with Brooke going to USC, her expenses are going to be a lot higher than we prepared for. I'll leave school and get a job. But even with that, we won't be able to afford this house."

  "I'll be getting Social Security," I said. "We could use that for the mortgage."

  Mom shook her head. "I spoke to Sam Whalen, and he told me how much to expect. It won't be nearly enough. This house costs a fortune, Willa. The mortgage and taxes. There's no way we could afford it without Val's help."

  I wasn't looking forward to school on Monday, to being stared at and who knew what else. But it was my school with my teachers and my friends, and most important, my choir. No one wants to start a new school their senior year.

  "Can we buy someplace close by?" I asked. "Or even rent? Can't we rent someplace in Westbridge just for a year?"

  "I don't think so, honey," Mom said. "We can't buy anywhere unless Jack gets a loan from his parents, which he refuses to do. What little there is to rent around here is way beyond what we can afford. I don't know where we'll be moving to, but it's not going to be anywhere near here."

  I willed myself not to cry. I'd cried enough about things I knew were more important. "When will we move?" I asked. "Right after Brooke's graduation?"

  "That's when we'll put the house on the market," Mom said. "Once the girls leave. It's less disruptive that way, and besides, it's a good idea to let a little time pass, give people a chance to forget what happened. But we can't afford Jack's share of the mortgage and rent on an apartment. We'll move the day someone closes on the house."

  "That could be anytime," I said. "This summer. Next winter. I could start a new school halfway through the year." Like I had four years ago, I realized. No one had cared then either. "Mom, that's so unfair. You've got to see how unfair it is."

  "You think I don't know that?" Mom said. "But you're not Val's daughter. She has no obligation to help you out. And frankly, you've benefited a lot from her over the past few years. So have I. We've had this house, and I got three years of college instead of working."

  "I never asked for this house," I said. "And it's not like you graduated. Brooke and Alyssa get everything. They always have. Alyssa isn't even going to live with Val. And Brooke doesn't have to go to USC. She could accept the scholarship to North Carolina. They get everything, and I get nothing. That's how it's always been."

  For a moment, I thought Mom was going to hit me. I think she thought so too. Her voice was shaky when she finally spoke. "Don't ever say that to Jack," she said. "And let me tell you something. I got this house for us, for you. There was another one in Smithton that Jack and Val both thought we should buy. It was bigger, and closer to Fairhaven. I was the one who insisted on this house. The other one had four bedrooms, but one was really small, and I convinced Jack that Val would insist Brooke and Alyssa get the bigger rooms and that wouldn't be fair to you. Then I convinced Val that the Smithton school system wasn't as good and if Brooke or Alyssa decided to leave Fairhaven, they'd be better off here. I was determined to send you to Westbridge because it's known for its drama department and its choir. That was the only thing I could give you, Willa, and I saw to it you got it. I wish we could stay here. I wish you could graduate with your class. But you've had a lot more than you're entitled to, and I don't want you to forget it."

  "Do the girls know?" I asked, thinking about how resentful Brooke was. This was a hell of a way to pay me back for playing with her doll.

  "Jack's telling them today after church," she said. "We decided to do it that way. The girls will be moving on, so they won't care. And Jack couldn't bear to tell you himself. He loves you so much, honey. It breaks his heart to see you unhappy."

  Twenty-Five

  I WAS DEBATING how to sign the e-mail I'd written to Uncle Martin when Brooke stuck her head in the room. "Are you busy?" she asked.

  I typed in "Your niece, Willa Coffey," pressed Send, and shut down the computer. There was no reason to hide the e-mail from Brooke, but there was no reason to tell her about it either.

  It had taken a while to track Uncle Martin down, but I finally located a Martin Penders in Blatchersville, Idaho. He owned a taxidermy business, complete with an e-mail address. There was a chance, I supposed, it wasn't the right Martin Penders, but it was still worth the try. I'd decide what to tell Mom if I heard back from him.

  "I found this when I was hanging up my skirt," Brooke said, handing me Crystal's pin. "It was in the pocket."

  "Oh, yeah," I said. "I forgot about it."

  "It's pretty," she said. "Did you buy it in Pryor?"

  "More like I stole it," I said. "No, I'm joking. I had as much right to it as anybody." I remembered how Crystal's family had wanted it for her and wished I could make the pin disappear, along with Brooke.

  Brooke sat down on the sofa. "Daddy told us about selling the house," she said. "I'm sorry, Willa."

  "It's okay," I said, swiveling the chair so I faced her. "It's not your fault."

  "No," she said. "I'm sorry about everything. I didn't mean any of those things I said about Daddy adopting you. I hope you believe me, Willa. You're my sister, every bit as much as Alyssa, and I'm happy that Dad's going to adopt you. I hope there's a big party."

  "It's not going to happen anytime soon," I said. "I'm getting Social Security from Budge until I'm eighteen, and I can use the money."

  "That's great," Brooke said. "Can you use it for the mortgage?"

  "It's not enough," I said. "I already asked Mom."

  "Oh," she said. "Well, Daddy can adopt you on your eighteenth birthday. You could have a really big party then."

  "I guess," I said. "Right now I'm kind of fathered out."

  "Me too," Brooke said. "Daddy and Mom were horrible in Orlando. He and Terri never fight. It's like he's a different person when he's with Mom. It's a nightmare."

  I tried to picture Val as a young wife and mother, trying desperately to save her marriage, knowing her husband was unfaithful to her. But all I could imagine was Mom trying to escape Budge before he hurt us again.

  "Budge was pretty violent," I s
aid. "I think Mom decided when she married Jack that she'd do anything to avoid fighting with him."

  "There's got to be a balance," Brooke said. "Do you think we'll find it?"

  "No," I said. "Do you?"

  "I hope so," Brooke said. She glanced at the door and lowered her voice. "Alyssa thinks you cut yourself," she said. "She mentioned it to me months ago, but she thought you'd been doing it even longer than that."

  "She doesn't have to worry," I said. "It's not contagious."

  "Does Daddy know?" Brooke asked. "Or Terri? Or Lauren?"

  I shook my head.

  "Maybe you should talk to someone about it," she said.

  "It's no big deal," I said. "It's not like drugs. I'm not addicted. I only do it when I'm really stressed out."

  Brooke looked even more uncomfortable.

  "What?" I said. "Lots of kids cut, but they don't have fathers that slashed their families to death?"

  "That wasn't what I was thinking," she said. "I just don't like the idea that I'm adding to your stress."

  "Then let's change the subject," I said.

  "Okay," Brooke said. "Let's. Because this isn't about you cutting or stress. Honestly, Willa. It's something I've been thinking about for a couple of days now. The way Dad and Mom were fighting, I knew something was going on, and then Dad told us today he's putting the house on the market this summer. He didn't say so, but I know it's because I'm turning down the scholarship."

  "That's only part of it," I said.

  "It's the part I can do something about," Brooke replied. "If you want, I'll go to North Carolina and play lacrosse for another year. If I hate it, I can transfer, but in the meantime you'll be able to graduate with your class."

  "You would do that for me?" I asked.

  "I love you," she said. "And it isn't fair for you to get cheated out of senior year here."

  I tried to figure it out. If Jack had less to pay in tuition and I chipped in my Social Security, maybe we could afford the house.

  But Mom would still have to quit school to work full-time. Brooke would be unhappy at North Carolina and Mom would be unhappy because she couldn't finish her degree and Jack would be unhappy because he'd feel like he failed all of us.