The First Ladies Club Box Set

by J B Hawker

  Warren was crouched over her, trying to pull her down onto the seat. Seeing Ryan, he whirled around and swung at him.

  “Get out of here, Bishop. Mind your own business!” Warren yelled as Ryan pulled him from the car.

  Once outside, Warren jumped to his feet in a wrestling stance, preparing to tackle Ryan.

  Ryan immediately jumped up and kicked Warren in the chest, knocking him down and stunning him, then stood over his fallen foe with fists clenched.

  While the boys scuffled, Astilbe hurried to her sister’s side and helped her from the car.

  Seeing that Paisley was safe, Ryan dropped his knee onto Warren’s chest, looked into his eyes and growled, “You get out of here, before we call the cops on you. Don’t you ever come near Paisley Falls again, or you will regret it.”

  Warren scrambled to his feet, jumped into his car and drove off, spraying gravel in his wake.

  Ryan ran over to the sisters.

  “Paisley, are you okay? Do you need a doctor?” Ryan asked.

  “Your face is bruised. Did that creep hit you?” Astilbe said as they walked together to Ryan’s nearby car.

  “I think I’m okay. Can we just go?” Paisley said, sliding onto the backseat.

  Once behind the steering wheel, Ryan asked again if Paisley needed to go to the hospital.

  “No. I’m not hurt, not really, just shaken up. Can we go get a cola or something?” Paisley asked.

  “Shouldn’t we go straight home and tell Mom and Dad?” Astilbe asked.

  “We’ll tell them in the morning. I need to calm down before talking to them. Right now, I just want to get something to drink, okay?”

  “Sure,” Ryan said, turning onto the highway.

  “While we drink you can tell us exactly what happened to set that animal off,” Astilbe said.

  Astilbe wrapped her sister in her own chiffon scarf, camouflaging her torn gown, and tried to repair her ruined hairstyle with her fingers as they rode to the café.

  Chapter 20

  Walking into the burger joint, the three friends ignored the questioning glances of their classmates who had also opted for a soft drink or snack in lieu of any of the more exciting après-prom activities. Spying an empty corner booth near the back, they quickly maneuvered around tables and slid onto the red vinyl bench with Paisley positioned protectively between her sister and Ryan.

  “Want anything to eat?” Ryan asked the girls.

  “Nothing for me,” Paisley replied.

  “I’d like some fries,” Astilbe admitted. “And maybe a coke?”

  “You said you want something to drink, right, Pais?” Ryan asked.

  “Just a coke, I guess. I’m really thirsty. Thanks,” Paisley replied.

  While Ryan was at the counter giving their orders, Astilbe turned to her sister with a worried expression.

  “Now, tell me. Did that pervert Warren rape you?” she asked, in a low voice.

  “No, he didn’t get that far,” Paisley said. “He was all over me, though. I didn’t have enough hands to keep him off. I was getting pretty scared before you got there.”

  Ryan returned with their drinks, Astilbe’s fries and a basket of onion rings.

  “Thank you, Ryan. I don’t like to think what would have happened if you guys hadn’t come along when you did,” Paisley said.

  “What was that guy thinking, anyway? He can’t get away with something like that,” Ryan replied.

  “Yeah, what set him off?” Astilbe asked.

  “Everything was fine at the dance,” Paisley began. “Oh, he was a little too affectionate during the slow dances and made more of his crude remarks than usual, but when we got back to his car and I told him I wanted to break up with him, he just sort of went crazy. He said I’d been teasing him and all sorts of stupid things. I was going to go find you guys and ask for a ride home, but that’s when he started grabbing at me, pulling my hair and trying to get my dress off. It was like a nightmare. I sort of couldn’t believe he was doing it. I mean, I tried to fight him off, but he’s really strong,” she finished with a sob.

  “I wish I’d done him more damage. We should call the cops,” Ryan said, his fists clenched and a muscle moving in his jaw.

  “I don’t want to cause more fuss. He didn’t hurt me, much,” Paisley said.

  “We have to tell Mom and Dad. They can decide if we tell the police, or not. Dad’s for sure going to have a talk with Warren’s parents, at least. They’ll probably kill him for this,” Astilbe said with grim satisfaction.

  “I suppose so,” Paisley said. “I’m really tired. Can we just go home, now? If Mom and Daddy are up, we can tell them tonight, but if they are asleep, let’s just wait until the morning, okay?”

  *

  In the Methodist Church parsonage, Reverend Gilbert G. (for Gilbert) Gilbert III, known as ‘Pastor Gilbert’ to his flock and ‘Triple G’ to his seminary classmates, tried to ease back into bed without waking his wife.

  “Gil? Are you okay?” Elizabeth asked when the bed creaked as her husband’s head hit the pillow.

  “Fine, Liz, go back to sleep,” he replied.

  “What time is it?” she asked, sitting up to look at the bedside clock. “Three in the morning,” she moaned. “Why were you up?”

  With a sigh of resignation, Gil switched on the lamp and sat up.

  “It’s the noise from the high school. When the dance let out, all those cars revving up as the kids left woke me.”

  “The dance didn’t go on until this late, did it?”

  “No, but just as I was going back to sleep, I thought I heard someone calling for help. I wasn’t sure what I heard and by the time I got up and stepped out onto the porch all was quiet.”

  “It was probably an excess of youthful high spirits. But surely that was hours ago,” Elizabeth said.

  “Yes, but I couldn’t go back to sleep from trying to remember exactly what I’d heard. Eventually, I started to worry over this Sunday’s sermon, and I was so restless, I decided to get up and read my Bible for a bit. I wound up completely revising my sermon and lost track of time. I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “That’s okay. At least you got a good sermon out of it. Now, go to sleep. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

  Gil kissed Elizabeth, turned off the light and was soon snoring softly.

  Elizabeth remained awake, thinking back to the excitement of her own high school dances. She eventually returned to slumber with a smile on her face.

  *

  “Girls? Is that you?” Judy called out when she heard whispering and footsteps on the stairs.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Astilbe said, peeking around her parents’ bedroom door. “We tried not to wake you.”

  On his side of the bed Ken remained asleep, so Judy slipped out from under the covers, wrapped a colorful crewelwork shawl around her shoulders and joined her daughters on the landing outside the bedroom.

  “Come downstairs. I’ll fix cocoa and you can tell me all about the prom,” she urged, ushering the girls back down the staircase.

  Paisley began to protest, then shrugged, saying, “I suppose we might as well get it over with.”

  “Get it over with? Didn’t you have a good time?” Judy asked before putting a pan of milk on the stove.

  “Mom,” Astilbe said, when she and her sister were seated at the kitchen island. “The dance was great, but what happened after the dance pretty much spoiled everything.”

  “What happened?” Judy stopped spooning cocoa powder into the mugs and turned around.

  “Shall I tell her?” Astilbe asked her sister.

  “No, I better do it,” Paisley replied.

  Looking carefully at her daughters, Judy finally noticed Paisley’s messy hair and torn gown. She turned off the stove and put her hand on Paisley’s shoulder.

  “Tell me,” she urged.

  “Remember, I told you I was going to break it off with Warren after the dance? You and Daddy didn’t think it was such a good time to do it and
I guess you guys were right,” Paisley began.

  Astilbe got up and finished fixing their drinks while Paisley filled Judy in on what happened.

  “Warren got sort of pushy as the night went on, like he sometimes does, and as soon as we got into his car to come home, he tried to make out with me. I told him to cut it out and I didn’t want to go out with him, anymore,” Paisley said, then took a sip of cocoa from her favorite mug, the one with a faded decal of Winnie the Pooh.

  “But that stupid Warren wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Astilbe interjected. “Tell Mom what happened next, Patsy.”

  “Give me a minute, will you?” Paisley replied.

  “Paisley, dear, did Warren hurt you?” Judy asked, brushing her fingers gently on her daughter’s bruised jaw.

  “He groped me and pushed me around. When I fought him off, he punched me! He’s really strong and I didn’t think I could hold him off, but Ryan came and pulled him off me.”

  “Ryan was amazing!” Astilbe gushed. “Like a superhero or something.”

  “Yeah,” Paisley continued. “Warren tried to fight him, but Ryan made him leave me alone and then he and Tilly gave me a ride home.”

  “Thank God Ryan showed up!” Judy said. “Are you really all right?”

  Paisley nodded and Judy hugged her.

  “We must report Warren’s behavior. What he tried to do is inexcusable. If he gets away with this, who knows what he will try on the next girl?” Judy said. “You two run up to bed. You’ve had enough excitement. I will talk with your father in the morning. He’ll know what’s best.”

  Ken woke when Judy slipped back into bed.

  “Did the girls have fun?” he asked, yawning.

  “There was an incident with Warren after the dance. I’ll tell you everything in the morning,” Judy said.

  Ken sat up and turned on the light.

  “Tell me, now,” he said. “I’m awake. What happened?”

  “Warren tried to force himself on Paisley when she broke up with him. He tore her dress and struck her hard enough to leave a bruise on her face.”

  “What? Where is he, now? Did you call the police?”

  “Ryan and Astilbe came along and chased him away. I sent the girls to bed.”

  Ken swung his legs off the bed and found his slippers. He grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand and scrolled his contacts for the number of Warren’s parents.

  “It’s only four in the morning, Ken. Shouldn’t you wait to make any calls?” Judy asked.

  “This can’t wait...hello? Ted, this is Ken Falls. Sorry to bother you so early, but we’ve got a problem. Your boy assaulted my daughter tonight. Yes, that’s right. I’ll meet you and Warren at the Sheriff’s substation in thirty minutes. Right. Good-bye,” Ken ended the call.

  “Judy, go take your phone and get photos of Paisley’s bruised face and her torn gown. Email them to my phone. They will probably want to speak with Ryan and the girls, but hopefully that can wait until morning,” Ken said as he got dressed.

  Judy crept into Paisley’s room, trying not to wake her, in case she’d managed to fall asleep.

  “Mom?” Paisley said. “What’s up?”

  “Your father called Mr. Meyers and told him what Warren did. They are meeting at the Sheriff’s office tonight. I need to get a photo of your bruised face and torn dress.”

  “Why don’t I just go with him, and get it over with?” Paisley said, getting out of bed as she spoke. “I’ll take the dress with me and I can answer any questions. I just want to put this whole night behind me.”

  “If you’re sure you feel up to seeing Warren...he’s going to be there, too, you know,” Judy said.

  “I want to look him in the eye, just once, and then I never want to see him again.”

  “Okay, then. Don’t forget to bring your torn gown.”

  While Paisley dressed, Judy went to ask Ken to wait for her.

  *

  When Ken and Paisley entered the Sheriff’s substation, they saw Ted Meyers talking with a deputy while Warren slumped on a chair in the foyer. He heard the door and looked up. When he saw Paisley and her dad he started to get up, then sat back down on the edge of the chair with his head in his hands.

  “Meyers,” Ken greeted Warren’s dad. “Thanks for meeting us here. I knew you would want to get this taken care of as soon as possible.”

  “Pastor,” Ted Meyers said, shaking Ken’s hand. “I’ve had a talk with my boy, and he admits he made a bad mistake. He’s real sorry. What’s it going to take to make this right?”

  Ken gestured for Paisley to come closer and show the deputy her bruised face and torn dress.

  “You want to charge the boy with assault and attempted rape?” the deputy asked Ken.

  “Daddy, I don’t want Warren to have to go to jail or be a sex offender, or anything. I just don’t want him to ever do anything like this to anyone else,” Paisley said.

  “My boy knows he’s done wrong and he will never do it again, I’ll see to that,” Ted Meyers said.

  “Deputy, would it be possible to document my daughter’s injury and take statements for the files, but let the boy off with a warning? We don’t want to destroy his future, but a simple apology doesn’t seem right, either.”

  The deputy, Mr. Meyers and Ken went into the back office to confer with the officer in charge, leaving Paisley and Warren alone in the outer office.

  “Pais?” Warren said. “I am sorry. I really am. I don’t know what got into me...how can I make it up to you?”

  “Just leave me alone.”

  “Won’t you give me another chance? I promise I’ll never do anything like that again. I was just so disappointed; you know? I mean, it’s prom night and that usually means a guy’s gonna get lucky. You can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

  “That’s what you thought? You thought I was going to hook up with you because you bought me a corsage? I told you before you turned into an animal that I don’t want to be with you, anymore. What you did has not changed my mind.”

  “I didn’t mean to hit you,” Warren said.

  “Oh? Your fist must have a mind of its own, then. Just give up, okay? We’re over.”

  Warren reached out to touch Paisley’s shoulder and she flinched away.

  “Don’t you ever touch me, ever again. Just get away from me, now, or I’ll yell for my dad.”’

  Warren returned to the chair, cursing under his breath.

  The deputy came out and took Paisley into another room for her statement and the photos. When she was finished, she met Ken in the lobby, but Warren and his dad were gone.

  “So, what happens now?” she asked.

  “Juvenile Court will take care of the details and the boy will have a misdemeanor on his record, but we are finished here,” Ken said, ushering his daughter out to the car.

  “What about my dress?” she asked, suddenly realizing Ken wasn’t carrying it.

  “Evidence. I’m afraid it will be some time before you see that gown again.”

  “That’s okay. It’s Tilly’s dress, anyhow.”

  Chapter 21

  When Cassius Haleby entered his office the next morning, the phone on his desk was ringing. He crossed to his desk and picked it up, “Yes?”

  “Oh, good, you’re in, Doctor,” Gwennie said. “Your son, Noel, is holding for you on line one.”

  “Thank you,” he said and punched a button. “Noel? How are you, boy? What’s on your mind?”

  “Hi Dad. The reason I called is, we’ve all been talking, ever since we were out there for your cousin’s service, and, well, I’ve been elected to broach the subject with you,” Noel said.

  “What subject is that?” Haleby asked.

  “It’s about Mother,” Noel began.

  “What about your mother?”

  “Well, we, none of us, or all of us, that is, we didn’t like what we saw. Mother seems to have seriously deteriorated in the past few months.”

  Noel, although a medical doc
tor himself, was uncomfortable confronting his father about his mother’s drinking problem.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your mother is fine,” Cassius protested.

  “Father, you must have seen her falling all over herself at the reception. It was most embarrassing for us all. Obviously, her drinking has gotten completely out of hand,” Noel said.

  Following an ominous silence, Cassius responded, “Oh, it has, has it? That’s your professional diagnosis? And what do you and your siblings think should be done? Are you offering to assume your mother’s care? Perhaps on a rotating basis?”

  “Don’t get upset. We only want what’s best for Mother and for you. Scenes like the one we observed can’t do much for your standing in the community, you know,” Noel said.

  “No, indeed. Nor does having grown children who never visit if they can avoid it. You don’t think the infrequency of your visits goes unnoticed by this community, do you?” Cassius asked. “If your mother drinks too much, perhaps it is because she feels rejected by her children, did you consider that?”

  “There’s no need to attack me, Father. I’m just the messenger. We’re all worried and we feel something needs to be done.”

  “Exactly what? She’s been in a dozen private rehabilitation establishments and seen any number of therapists. She’s on the best anti-depressant medications, as you well know, having prescribed them yourself. What else do you all think I should be doing?” Cassius asked, raising his voice.

  A sound in the corridor outside his office brought Cassius back to himself and he continued more calmly, “If you and your brothers and sisters can suggest anything we haven’t already tried, I’d like to hear it. In the meantime, you can leave your mother to me. Now, I’ve got to go. I’ve got patients to see. Good-bye.”

  Haleby hung up the phone and stepped over to the window, but looked inward, seeing the image of his wife when he left for work, surrounded by empty gin bottles and sprawled half off the sofa in a drunken stupor, her robe hanging open to reveal her flabby thighs. As he left the house, she’d roused briefly and begun weeping in yet another fit of remorse and self-pity.