About Face

by Fern Michaels

  Casey felt as if she’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. Somehow, Kyle always managed to bring his parents into their private moments.

  For a moment he seemed to be deep in thought.

  “What, Kyle?” Casey stood under the soft glow of the porch light, unaware of how attractive she looked in the subdued light.

  “Never mind. You’re beautiful. Have I told you that lately?” Kyle took her elbow like the Southern gentleman he was and led her inside.

  Casey was so nervous she felt like she could jump right out of her skin. What did Kyle’s parents want? They knew about their engagement. They knew they wanted to wait until her graduation before they married. Maybe they were going to try to convince Kyle to wait until he finished college.

  The evening passed slowly. Casey caught herself stifling a yawn more than once. After two hours of small talk, she finally got up the nerve to say her momma would be worried if she was late. She smiled her apologies and moved quickly to the front hall, Kyle following her.

  “I’ll drive you home, sweet,” Kyle said.

  She wished she could just blurt out that her mother would kill her if she found out she wasn’t in her room.

  “No, really, I prefer the walk. It gives me time to think about us. And other things.” In the end she knew he would relent and let her have her way.

  “Casey, you’re not leaving, are you?” Fiona Wallace called to her as she opened the door to the front porch.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wallace. I have to get home.” A chill ran down her arms when she saw the look that passed between mother and son.

  “I wanted to talk to you earlier, Casey, but wasn’t quite sure how to approach the subject.”

  Tall as Kyle and thin as a stick, Fiona Wallace was an unattractive woman, just short of being downright ugly, and with a disposition to match. She reminded Casey of Olive Oyl, except she lacked the friendly personality of the cartoon character. Fiona never bothered with makeup or an updated hairstyle. She wore dowdy clothes and shoes with the heels run-down. Casey was glad Kyle had taken after his father in the looks department.

  Steeling herself for what she thought was about to be bad news, Casey was shocked when she heard Mrs. Wallace’s words pour out of her thin pursed lips.

  “Mr. Wallace and I have decided that you and Kyle might like to have a small wedding. Here at our home.”

  Casey reached for the doorknob to steady herself. “I don’t know what to say,” she said miserably. She looked at Kyle, who was leaning against the wall with a cat-that-ate-the-canary look. It was obvious to her that he’d known all about his mother’s little surprise.

  “I just found out myself this afternoon. I thought it would be best if Mother told you.” Kyle looked at his mother, whose thin nose was almost at a ninety-degree angle.

  Why is Fiona Wallace doing this? Casey wondered if she looked like an idiot. She certainly felt like one. Were they waiting for her to shout with joy, to throw her arms around them? Did they expect her to thank them from the bottom of her heart? Not in this lifetime. It was Kyle’s idea to elope and save all the fuss and bother. Where was this wedding nonsense coming from? She felt a chill wash up and down her arms.

  “Casey, aren’t you going to say anything?” Kyle reached for her arm and pulled her away from the door.

  “I’m too shocked. I don’t know what to say,” Casey repeated.

  “See, Mother. I told you. You don’t have to do a thing honey. Let Mother take care of all the details, and we’ll be the talk of Sweetwater.”

  “But, Kyle, I thought we . . .” Casey could feel her heart pound. Just the thought of her momma and Fiona Wallace in the same room was going to kill her. They wouldn’t need to plan a wedding, they’d be attending her funeral.

  “Don’t tax that pretty little head of yours about anything. You leave that to Mother. All you need to think about is the color of the icing on the cake.”

  Kyle turned to his mother. “If we could have a minute, then I’ll be in and we can have a nightcap together.”

  Fiona nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll need to talk to your mother, Casey. I’ll call her at some point.” Casey nodded. She didn’t know what else to do. Fiona and her mother in the same room. A disaster waiting to happen.

  “What do you think? Are you surprised? You’ll be the talk of the town. Don’t worry about a thing, Mother will handle it all. She’s good at that sort of thing. That’ll give you more time to think about ways you and I can . . .”

  “For God’s sake, Kyle! Is that all you can think about?” Suddenly all of her previous doubts surfaced. Could she really go through with this? Maybe she should tell Kyle the truth. Would he still want to marry her?

  He whisked her to the side of the porch, away from the front door.

  Drawing her close to him, he cupped her buttocks and squeezed, pulling her to his groin. Casey felt the swollen length of him and cringed.

  “Seems that way when I’m around you.” He continued to grind himself against her, all the while nipping at her neck.

  “Stop it!” She tried to push him away, but he held her arms to her sides trapping her.

  “Just relax, you don’t know what you’re missing.” His words were slurred with all the wine he’d had during and after dinner. Releasing one arm, he traced the swell of her breasts through the thin gauze.

  Casey froze. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend.

  As fast as he’d pulled her to him, he thrust her away. “Goddamn it, Casey, you act like a fucking virgin. I know you’re not, so let’s just stop that bullshit right now. My parents are willing to pay plenty for you, the least you can do is give some kind of deposit on what I’m gettin’.” He pushed her, making her stumble. She clutched at the porch railing for support.

  Numb, she stared at Kyle. He’d plopped down in the wicker rocking chair, a smirk on his handsome face.

  “What’s gotten into you, Kyle? Why are you acting this way?”

  “It isn’t what’s ‘got into me’ as you say, babe, it’s what ain’t coming out.” He snickered.

  Casey felt sick to her stomach. She’d thought he was different, her chance at a normal life.

  “I’m going home. I’m going to forget this ever happened.” Casey walked down the steps into the darkness. All she had to do was put this little incident behind her and not think about it again. Kyle was only a man. She knew he had desires and urges, all men did. She just thought he’d be a bit more gentle with her. She told him she wanted to wait until they were married. Until now, he’d respected her decision. Maybe he did think she owed him something. She would never have asked his parents for anything, let alone ask them to pay for their wedding.

  Casey heard Kyle calling her name, but she ignored him. She wanted to go home and hide. Hide in her miserable skin and ponder what she was to do with her life. At eighteen she felt old and worn. Kyle was her chance to feel young, and carefree, buy that’s not the way she was feeling at the moment.

  “Casey, dammit, I’m sorry.” She heard Kyle’s footsteps behind her and stopped. She felt the heat from his body as he slammed into her. They toppled to the ground, Kyle landing on top of her.

  “I said I was sorry, what more do you want?” She could feel the swell of him come to life again as he thrust his groin against her.

  Raising her knees between Kyle’s sprawled legs, Casey dug her heels into the soft grass and scooted away from him. He was left grinding the lawn. If she weren’t so frightened, she might have laughed. But she knew what could happen. And she wasn’t willing to take that chance.

  Kyle pushed himself up from the ground, giving her room to back farther away. Casey rose, brushing red dirt and grass from her best dress. It was ruined.

  Freshly dug earth and mowed grass scented the night air as she stood trembling in the warm darkness. Kyle stared at her, yet said nothing. Knowing this was a turning point, Casey was afraid to say the words that would be the final cut. Let him say them.

  Kyle t
ook a step toward her, his hands held out before him. “My God, I don’t know what’s got into me tonight. I’m sorry, Casey.”

  Casey could only stare at him. She could feel her insides trembling, and her hands were visibly shaking. She squeezed the material of her dress to hide her tremors.

  “Can we forget this happened, Casey? I love you.” He looked like the twenty-year-old that he was. The hardened glint in his eyes softened. His posture, usually so ramrod straight, was now relaxed, casual, as if he were striking a pose for Southern Gentlemen.

  He held out a hand as if wanting to call a truce. Against her better judgment, Casey held her arms out to him. He pulled her to him in a gentle embrace, placing her head on his chest. This was right. He was comforting her. The rest would come later, she just needed time. She lifted her head and looked at Kyle. He cupped her chin with both hands and slammed his groin into her. Hard.

  “Stop!” Casey pushed at his chest while he clenched her face between his hands. She struggled and stepped back.

  “You teasin’ bitch. You just wait.” Releasing her chin, he laced his fingers around the neck of her dress and pulled. The white, gauzy material shredded like paper.

  Casey stood still. She knew better.

  Her ragged bra went next. He pulled the straps down from her shoulders and ripped the cups apart, tossing them to the ground.

  She covered her breasts with trembling hands and prayed that he wasn’t going to rape her.

  My God, this is Kyle, the man I’m going to marry.

  The night air was cool, causing her nipples to harden. Kyle’s hands grazed the pebbled nubs. Taking each nipple between thumb and forefinger, he pinched her, then laughed.

  Casey couldn’t move. She was on fire, each tug sending jolts of pain throughout her body.

  “I knew you’d have big breasts.”

  Casey heard the clack of metal as he unhooked his belt. Then the zipper.

  “Dammit, don’t just stand there. You want this as much as I do.”

  Casey looked past Kyle to the sidewalk in front of his house. When she’d left only moments ago, she ran into the darkness provided by the trees at the end of the lawn. There was no chance they’d be spotted by Kyle’s parents. There was no one to come to her aid unless she screamed.

  Kyle’s blond head was at her chest. He licked her nipples, then bit her tender flesh.

  Tears blurred her vision as Kyle continued his journey downward.

  In one swift movement her panties were a white dot on the dark lawn. Kyle’s breathing was heavy and coming fast. Casey went limp, knowing that if she put up a fight, she’d lose.

  Kyle pushed her to the ground and pulled his pants to his knees. With only one hand holding her down, Casey gave a mighty shove and rolled away. A second later, the torn dress clutched to her body, she ran through backyards, across garden hoses and lawn chairs, until she was out of breath. When she found a thicket of oleander, she wiggled behind it and crouched. She waited, hardly daring to breathe, until she was certain she could move and try to wrap her dress around her. She ran home as fast as her feet would take her.

  Their house was one of the oldest on the block. Her grandmother had given it to her father when she moved to the new condo ten years earlier. Casey still hated the place, even though Grandma had lived there. Nothing but bad things happened to her in that house. She couldn’t wait to leave.

  Two stories high, with peeling yellow paint, the house could have been nice if her momma had spent some money on repairs. Momma said it didn’t matter what the outside looked like. It was the inside they all ought to be worrying about because that was where the people looked. They liked to look at fine things, lace curtains and thin china.

  At her window, Casey quietly lifted her screen out, shoving it through the open window. The scent of honeysuckle and confederate jasmine lingered in the night air as a cat’s screech startled her. She drew in a deep breath as she hiked one leg over the windowsill, then the other.

  Inside, Casey’s glance darted around to make sure no one was in her room. The chain lock that on occasion provided her with a bit of safety was still in place. Her room was secure. It only took a second to put the screen back in place.

  Leaning against the window frame, Casey viewed her room through the eyes of a stranger. What would a stranger think of the twin bed with its thin mattress? The white chenille spread worn with age? The oak night table covered with nicks and water rings? Her chest of drawers was a pale blue; she’d painted it herself. Many times. Posters, curled at the edges with age, hung lifelessly on the faded walls. The ballerina lamp, the one Grandma Gracie had given her, was the only girlish decoration in the room. It wasn’t a room like Darlene’s.

  She knew she should soak her stained dress in cold water but that meant she would have to leave her room, and she had no intention of unlocking the door. She should also call Kyle and tell him to go drop dead. No matter how desperate she was to leave this house, she knew now she could never marry him. She would call him first thing in the morning, and, if he was still sleeping, she’d leave a message on his answering machine. She placed the dress in the back of her closet, along with her shoes. Tomorrow would be time enough to soak it in cold water. Maybe it wasn’t worth it since Kyle had ripped the entire bodice. She eyed the chain lock. She’d better unlock it. Momma would raise nine kinds of hell if she tried to open the door and couldn’t get in. So much for privacy. Once she’d asked Momma why she couldn’t keep the lock in place. Her answer had been a slap to the face. Her momma had said if she weren’t such a slut, she could lock the door. Momma said she didn’t want no surprise guest greetin’ her when she went to wake Casey up for school. Casey knew that wasn’t the reason. And Momma knew it, too.

  Gently, Casey slid the chain from its lock and let it dangle against the door. She lay on the bed, hoping for sleep. Praying to be left alone. Tonight of all nights. Tonight, when she felt her future slip through her fingers, she wanted to be left alone.

  Chapter 2

  Casey woke to the sound of the front door slamming. She shoved the thin spread aside and prayed it was Ronnie who’d left.

  She squeezed her thighs together. Still tender from the night before, she winced as she remembered how Kyle had gone off the deep end. She bolted from the bed and quickly slipped the chain lock back in place. What mattered just then was getting out of there. She wasn’t going to wait around for Kyle to apologize. Last night was beyond her wildest imaginings. She tried to conjure up a mental picture of marriage to Kyle. It was an impossibility. When something was over, it was over.

  Where Kyle was concerned, all she had to do was tell Momma they had a fight and wanted to stay apart for a while. Her mother would rag on her, but she was used to it.

  In the back of her closet, inside the Folger’s can, rested her life savings. Four hundred seventy-three dollars and sixty-seven cents. How she’d managed to hang on to that much money astounded her. Momma kept track of every penny she’d earned baby-sitting. On occasion, unbeknown to her mother, Casey would help Flora, who was the Worthingtons’ housekeeper, with a housekeeping job. She tried to keep these small jobs secret from her momma because she always knew the day would come when she’d have to run.

  That day had arrived.

  The white dress stuffed in a ball reminded her of her shattered dreams. She’d often dreamed of what her life with Kyle would be like once they were married. A small house, not too big, but with a yard filled with trees. And she’d plant a garden. Kyle would have fresh vegetables served at every meal. After the dishes were finished, they’d hang a damp, flowered dish towel over the edge of the sink, announcing the evening as theirs. After a pot of coffee, they’d remember the dog. Hand in hand they would stroll along Sweetwater’s serene streets, with their Labrador leading the way.

  It was a pipe dream. Even she knew that. She couldn’t believe she’d harbored such juvenile dreams. With her life as it was, she would’ve been lucky to nab a weekend drunk from Paw’s, the newest c
lub in Brunswick. People like her didn’t snare the richest, most eligible guy in town. People used people like her to slake their lusts and serve their families.

  Casey grabbed the red can and held it close to her. Her future was in that can. Picking her book bag up from the closet floor, Casey ran her fingers along the wire hangers that held her pitiful wardrobe. A pink, cashmere imitation went first, followed by several loose shirts. Forget the clingy fashions of late. She preferred the full, shapeless style of the sweatshirts and baggy jeans.

  Grabbing an old denim purse from the top shelf, Casey dumped the contents of the can into it. She tucked the purse inside the book bag. A picture of her and Kyle, along with Darlene and a boy named Henry, stood on her dresser. She grabbed the photograph, frame and all, and stuffed it in the book bag, too. Fleetingly, she thought it might be her only reminder of where she came from when she left the godforsaken island.

  Having no idea where she was going intrigued her. She would travel north; maybe she’d end up in New York, then again, maybe she would go to Atlanta first. She’d decide later. When she had time. To think and plan. That day, however, she had to leave school early and stop by Doc Hunter’soffice. She’d called yesterday for an appointment, so it was all set.

  “Casey, get up!” Her mother’s gruff voice sent a quiver of alarm through her.

  She had to act normal.

  “Comin’, Momma. I’m almost dressed.” At least that much was true.

  She prayed that Ronnie wouldn’t pop back in as he was sometimes known to do. With him there, she’d never get a chance to leave.

  Placing the stuffed bag under the bed, Casey looked at her image in the mirror. She didn’t look any different. She was still the same person. The same dark hair fell to her waist. The same shadows lurked beneath her pale green eyes. The familiar fear rested in the pit of her stomach. That hadn’t changed either. She kept staring, waiting to see if somehow she would change. Nothing happened. She still looked the same, still felt the same. How strange. Nothing different.