by Karen M Cox
“Then why are you so set against seeing something worthwhile in Lizzie?”
He sat back down with a weary sigh. “Lord help me, I don’t see it. All I see are lewd smiles, harsh red lips, and cold, glittering eyes. I see suggestive movements designed to lead men astray.”
In spite of my anger, my lips twitched in amusement. “That’s what I used to see when I looked at her because that’s what she showed me. That’s what she showed you today too. But the real Lizzie isn’t cruel or harsh or immoral at all, I’m telling you.”
He leaned back against the chair, folding his arms across his chest. “All right then—help me see it, if you can.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure I can be the one to show you. I think she has to do it, and right now she won’t. You made sure of that today when you ignored her. You made her feel worthless, and she responded just the way you expected.” I paced to the other side of the room and back to the bed. “I asked you about her when you were here last month, do you remember?”
“Yes.”
“You said she was like a wounded, wild creature.”
“I did say that.”
“I took your words to heart.” I paused, trying to formulate my thoughts. “Every time I looked at her, I wondered, ‘What makes her act like that? Doesn’t she realize how she makes everything worse?’ The more I talked to her, the more she let me see another side of her—a side that wants to help women and babies and is interested in botany. A side that plays hide-and-seek with her little sister and apologizes when she does wrong or hurts someone’s feelings. A side that holds her head up even when men ogle her and say ugly things that no woman should have to hear. I saw a bit of the path Lizzie has to walk in this town. I’ve even walked it a short way with her these past couple of weeks. And believe me, most of the people around here do not make it an easy row to hoe. You heard what Marlene said at the dinner table the night we came here.”
“And if you remember, her parents and I reprimanded her for it.”
“But why did you? Was it because it was wrong of her to say, or because it was embarrassing dinner conversation?”
“I hope you know me well enough to know the answer to that.” Dad went on, keeping his voice even. “Alvin’s daughter—her behavior concerns me too. Marlene has set her cap for you, and I’m not surprised she would say anything she thought would steer you clear of other young women.”
Or do anything for that matter. Dad had no idea.
He went on. “The Bible says in Proverbs 10:18: ‘He that hideth hatred with lying lips, and he that uttereth a slander, is a fool.’ Marlene is acting very foolish, and her design on you is yet another reason I’ve decided you should leave with me when I set out for Kingston on Monday.”
“What? No, Dad! Absolutely not. I can’t leave Doc in a lurch like that. He’s expecting me to stay until September. He’s counting on me.”
“He’ll understand and might even be relieved for you to go. I know he already worries about Marlene’s good sense where young men are concerned because we’ve discussed it before. Apparently, you’re not the first boy she’s made up her mind to…pursue.”
“I can handle Marlene Miller, for Pete’s sake. I don’t want to leave Orchard Hill right now. It will look bad to leave a summer job so abruptly. And I’m learning so much—”
“I’m not sure I like what you’re learning.”
“You disregard my judgment.”
“I don’t believe your judgment is sound—at least it’s not regarding Miss Quinlan. She’s a distraction—an enticing one, to be sure—but you have a calling, Son, and a conviction. I’ve seen it. Alvin tells me he sees it too. God has called you to be a healer, and no woman should stand in the way of that mission.
“You may not believe this, but I’m proud that you reached out to a sinner and tried to bring her to the Lord. If you succeed, you’ve won a sister in Christ, a friend. But after you’ve done that, perhaps it’s time to move on. Don’t mistake friendship for a deeper kind of affection.”
“I see.” My voice shook with indignation. “So, it’s acceptable to preach to her about her faults, but don’t dare get close enough to show her any real feelings—certainly don’t show her any love.”
Dad sighed in exasperation. “You don’t love her! How could you? Her behavior is suggestive at best, immoral at worst.”
“Like I said before, I have yet to see her behave in an immoral manner.”
“Look at her with objective, God-fearing eyes and tell me how Lizzie Quinlan can be any sort of suitable companion for you.”
“I don’t know how or why. It’s not like I haven’t seen beautiful girls before. I can’t explain it except”—I expelled a whoosh of air in frustration—“her soul calls me.”
Dad snorted in derision. “Her body calls you—that’s all it is.”
“You demean her, and you discredit your own son.” I was getting angry with him—and with Lizzie for putting me in this position. And I was starting to feel desperate. I couldn’t refute the way Lizzie appeared to him, but why wouldn’t he believe me about her? He had never disbelieved me before.
His features hardened into a stony, formidable mask. “My decision has been made. We leave together on Monday morning. Make sure you pack your things and have them ready.”
He got up and crossed the room. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to face me. “I’m doing this for your own good, Billy Ray.”
Then he left, shutting the door behind him, leaving my anger and frustration trapped and festering in my throat. I swallowed a lump that had grown there.
I had been so consumed by thoughts of Lizzie the past weeks that I had hardly thought about my work with Dr. Miller, but now, every ounce of intuition I possessed told me I should stay, fulfill my commitment to him. This was bigger than Lizzie, than Marlene, than me. There was more to be done here and leaving now would be taking the wrong path. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name.
My father had drawn his line in the sand. Now, I had to decide if I was strong enough to draw my own.
Chapter 10
Marlene showed up at my doorstep Sunday morning, ostensibly to tell me breakfast was ready. Before I could even collect my key and my wallet, she barreled into my room, looking over at the Miller’s house in the hopes someone saw her come inside.
“So, you’re leaving?” She pouted. “I overheard the reverend tell Daddy this morning.”
“No,” I replied. “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided to stay in Orchard Hill.”
Her feline grin spread from ear to ear. “Perfect. I knew you would. I told Doris as much last night on the phone.”
I suppressed a shudder at the thought of Marlene discussing my comings and goings with her friends. “My father won’t be pleased with my decision.”
She waved her hand as if swatting at a fly. “Oh pooh, who cares? My father is always saying I should do this or do that, and I never listen to him either.”
“But I promised your father I’d work the whole summer, and that’s the reason I’m staying.”
She went on as if she hadn’t heard me. “Daddy’s told me all the things I shouldn’t do as well.” She stood right in front of me, so her breasts brushed against my chest. She slipped her arms around my neck. “And I never listen to those either.”
I took her hands down and stepped back from her. “Look, I’ve tried to be as plain-spoken as I can be with you—”
“You never smile anymore, Billy Ray, and it’s an awful shame. You’ve got such a handsome smile. It just cuts a girl off at the knees.”
I folded my arms across my chest and frowned to spite her.
“See how unhappy all this business with that Quinlan tramp has made you? You’re arguing with your father, never smiling, and everyone in town’s talking about you. Is it really worth it? Did you honestly think he would approve of you kissing her by the public library fountain?”
“How do you know about that? No one else was there.”<
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She smiled and turned away, walking over to the desk and running her fingers back and forth, as if caressing it. “When he got into town, he asked my brother where you were, and Charlie said you were at the library. I figured you’d be with her. You’re always panting around after her, and the little hussy is always skulking around the library for some reason I can’t even fathom. So, I followed your father over there.” She chuckled—a low, ugly sound. “Boy, you should’ve seen y’all’s faces. The reverend looked appalled, and you looked as if he’d caught you with your hand in the nookie cookie jar.” She snorted. “I think it was the first time I’d ever seen Lizzie Quinlan look even the tiniest bit remorseful over something she’d done. She must have actually thought she had some kind of chance with you, the poor girl.” She leaned against the desk and looked at me with flinty-eyed amusement. “I guess Reverend D put the old quietus on that scenario, didn’t he?”
I wasn’t about to dignify that with any kind of response. “So, I’m staying here in Orchard Hill, and we”—I gestured between the two of us—“need to get some things straight.”
“And what might those be?” She twirled her ponytail around her finger.
“Well, for starters, no more midnight marauding over to my room.” I’d heard her try the door a couple of times, even after I bought my dead bolt.
She smiled. “We’ll see.”
“I don’t ever want Doc to think I’d betray his trust by sneaking around at night with his daughter. And your mother? She’s opened her home to me, Marlene. You must think I’m some kind of lowlife to disparage their kindness like that.”
She glared at me. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about your reputation now. My parents would believe you capable of almost anything. After all, you’ve been under the influence of the town slut.”
Could it be true? Had I lost Doc’s respect? I shook my head to clear it of Marlene’s venom. No, Doc wanted me to stay in Orchard Hill. He said so—told my father so. She was baiting me. I clenched my jaw against the tide of awful words that wanted to pour out and drown the malicious she-devil in front of me. “Is that the lie you’ve been spreading all over town? Is that what brought my father here with fear in his eyes and judgment in his mouth?”
“You’re the one who lowered his opinion of you by stepping out with that loose piece of baggage. I had nothing to do with it.”
Right then and there, I made up my mind to find another place to sleep at night. If I didn’t get away from Marlene Miller, my days as an upstanding Christian man were numbered. Either she’d convince everyone in town she and I had done the deed—no matter what the truth was—or she would manage to make me so angry I’d shake her till her teeth rattled.
I walked around her and out the door.
“What about breakfast?” she called after me.
“Not hungry. Tell my father I’ll meet him at church.”
I walked the four or so blocks to Adalia Street and knocked on Mrs. Gardener’s door. She pulled it open and looked at me, surprised.
“Well, good morning, Billy Ray.” She looked around. “No Lizzie with you today?”
“No, ma’am. I need to talk to you a minute. May I come in?”
“Well, of course you can.” She stepped back and held the door for me, and I walked into her modest foyer. She ushered me into the living room and sat on the couch. “Won’t you sit down?”
“Thank you.” I put myself in a chair across from her, but then I jumped up and began pacing. “I heard talk around town you have a boarding house. Is that so?”
“Why yes, I do. It’s across the street. It belonged to my husband’s mother, and when he died, it passed to me.”
“Would you happen to have a spare room I could rent—just until I go back to school in September—and if so, how much would it be?”
“Sit down, Billy Ray. You’re making my head hurt.”
I obliged her.
“I’m confused. I thought Doc was letting you stay in his office rent free. That’s got to be a pretty good deal for a struggling college student.”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s been real nice about it too, but circumstances have changed, and I think it best I not have my sleeping quarters so close to…”
Her eyes twinkled with wry understanding. “Ah, I see. Too close to Marlene Miller for comfort, are you?”
I let out an exasperated sigh, relieved I didn’t have to spell it out for her. “Yes, ma’am. I don’t like to speak ill of anyone, especially one of Doc’s family, but—”
“I know. You’re wise to steer clear of her but be careful. ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’”
“Shakespeare?”
“Actually, William Congreve, but yes,” she said, with a vague sort of amused resignation. “Marlene can’t do any real harm if you don’t let her, but she can make people awfully miserable when she chooses.” Her voice softened. “Lizzie learned that lesson the hard way.”
That piqued my curiosity. “What happened between the two of them? Lizzie doesn’t seem to hate people, even those knuckleheads that ogle her whenever she walks by, but her face puckers up like she ate a persimmon whenever Marlene is mentioned. I know it had something to do with Marlene’s boyfriend…”
Mrs. Gardener watched me carefully for several seconds. Then she smiled and shook her head. “No, I believe that’s Lizzie’s story to tell, if she chooses to tell it. You’re a nice young man and a kind person, so she may entrust you with the tale at some point. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it at all, except I didn’t want you to be blindsided by Marlene’s shenanigans.”
“Please don’t worry about me, Mrs. Gardener. I can handle Marlene Miller. But Lizzie—”
She patted her knees and stood up, cutting me off. “Is a remarkable and strong young lady. Now about the room—you’re in luck. I happen to have a vacancy as of just last week.”
I left five minutes later with a deposit receipt for a first-floor room and a key, but no more answers about Lizzie’s past.
I arrived early at the church and watched from the doorway as Dad moved about the altar, setting up the christening for Baby Susie Quinlan. It was a peaceful and familiar scene. I always drew strength from a church in the hours before the service. In an empty sanctuary, I had a keen sense of God’s Spirit. It was almost as if I could hear the souls that had worshipped there in the past and catch a glimpse of the ones who would follow me—a meeting of the past and the future tied together in the present. There was peace all around, yet I could perceive the anticipation and optimism of what was to come.
As he made his way over to speak with the church pianist beside the altar, I took a seat on one of the front pews. Members of the local congregations rarely sat in the front row, so it was almost always empty.
Slowly, over the next half hour, the church filled with the Orchard Hill faithful in their Sunday best: men with Brylcreem in their hair and dressed in dark suits, women in pillbox hats, small boys tugging at too tight shirt collars, and little girls in hair ribbons.
The Quinlans arrived about ten minutes before the service started. Mr. Quinlan had decided to attend and had at least trimmed his beard and combed his hair. Mrs. Quinlan followed him, a wan but pleasant smile on her face, carrying Baby Susie in a yellowed christening gown. The other girls followed their mother: Jeannie looking serene as usual, Carla looking solemn, and Lily jumping up and down, restrained by a subdued Lizzie who held her hand.
As usual, my pulse raced at the sight of Lizzie Quinlan. She had on that pretty, blue sundress, her hair curled around her shoulders. It swung forward to hide her face as she bent down to whisper in bouncing Lily’s ear. I watched as the family proceeded toward the front of the church. My father had asked that they sit close to the altar because of the christening, but the front third of the church was mostly filled already. Like most churchgoers, the Orchard Hill townspeople were creatures of habit and liked to sit in their usual pews. A few of the older women smiled at Mrs. Quinlan and scooted over to make room fo
r the new baby and her family, but there wasn’t enough room for all six of them to sit in a row. Mr. Quinlan looked ready to retreat to the back of the church, and I wondered if he would leave the building altogether. Lizzie caught his elbow and spoke in his ear, gesturing toward her mother. Slowly, he nodded and sat down. Lizzie, still holding bouncy Lily’s hand, scanned the nearby rows for a seat, and she was promptly ignored. Lily continued jumping up and down, and people stared at her, but nobody moved so the two girls could sit with the rest of their family.
It galled me that people who considered themselves good, upstanding Christians in every other part of their lives could actually behave this way inside the Lord’s house, but I guess human beings can only carry out on Sunday what they’ve practiced all week long.
I watched all this happen from the empty front row, seeing Lizzie slowly move farther from her family, farther from a spot where she would be able to see Susie’s christening. My blood simmered at this latest example of the town’s callous treatment of her. I shot up from my seat and walked down the center aisle—slowly, so they’d all see me. I could feel my brow furrow and my mouth draw into a hard line, and from the looks on their faces, I imagined I must look like my father during one of his revival sermons. People shrank back from the aisle as I approached.
I caught Lizzie’s free hand, and she startled as I tugged her gently, gesturing toward the front with my other hand. My father stood at the back of the church, his expression closed, just watching without emotion. I met his gaze with a direct stare of my own, and as I led Lizzie and Lily toward the front pew, I glared defiantly at anyone who dared to look surprised. I kept Lizzie’s hand in mine as she urged her little sister to sit down. Then I sat down beside her, and just for good measure, I looked around to gather as much attention as possible and laid my arm across the back of the pew behind her shoulders.
Not until that moment did I wonder about Lizzie’s reaction to what I’d done. Was she embarrassed? Angry? Would she look smug and gloat? Would she look at me with adoration? Was I her hero?