The Last Daughter (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll)
Page 11
“Oh, I do. I think our father tried to get Person to do away with you, and she took it upon herself to destroy him—once and for all. Otherwise, you’d be in continuous danger.”
“She sacrificed herself for me.” A fresh wave of tears spilled forth.
Trent walked through the entry way of the breakfast room. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside Rayna, putting his arm around her.
She rested her head on his shoulder. “As evil as he was, I’m still glad I got to know him. Not that I knew him. Maybe I should say I’m glad I got to look into his eyes, face him, show him that I survived.” She lifted her head. “I’m sorry, Louis. We sound terrible. You must be sad. You’d have to be. After all, you lived with him. You had a relationship with him.”
“Say whatever you want, little sister. You have every right.” Louis got up from the table, grabbed another Styrofoam cup, and poured it full of the strong black liquid. He put it down in front of Trent. “I realize it’s no excuse, but a long line of abuse makes people crazy. At least, it did him. I can’t tell you how many times Person saved me from him. I’m probably the only Mudwing that never spent the first ten years of his life in a...in a dog cage.”
So it was true. Rayna shook her head. “How did you ever survive? Looks like after Person took me away, he would have used you as his punching bag.” Trent squeezed her arm. He was letting her know he was there, he was with her, on her side. She put her hand over his.
“Person took me with the both of you to Louisiana. I barely remember anything but the bus ride. I don’t know if she was protecting me or if she needed me to be her voice. But when we got back, I got the beating of my life until she intervened. That was the last time he touched me.”
“I can’t believe you’d come back. Either of you,” Trent responded.
“Remember, I was just six. I had no choice. And Wounded Heart…Oklahoma City is...was her home. Anyway, that was my last beating; after that, she made me her focus. I was her child.”
“I wish I could remember.” Rayna rubbed her forehead as if doing so would produce memories.
“You’re better off not remembering. You were in horrible pain. Person nursed you back to health after he branded you. She fought the infection.”
“You mean they didn’t take her to a doctor? To the hospital?” Trent’s voice was hard and each word was ground from between clenched teeth. Rayna squeezed his hand but it didn’t silence him. “Why for God’s sake? How could he get away with hurting Rayna—or anyone else for that matter? How in the name of anything sane were you allowed to stay with them?”
Louis shook his head. “They couldn’t take her to the hospital. That would have alerted the authorities to his abuse and caused him some problems. Remember, he had power, but I don’t know if he could have protected himself from child abuse.” He turned his attention back to Rayna. “Person kept you in that room of hers with all the locks.”
Fresh tears poured down her cheeks. “What does Person mean, Louis? Is it short for something, a nickname? Is there any way we can help her?”
“I’ve hired an attorney. That’s a start. We’ll go from there. I’ve done enough reading and research and therapy to know that emotional healing from abuse of any sort takes a lot of hard work.”
Therapy. Louis was admitting to undergoing therapy himself? She looked at him in a new light and wondered what he’d really been through with their father. Probably more than she’d ever know
He stood. “I think I’ll go to the police station and check on things. I don’t like just sitting around.”
“Louis, you didn’t answer about Person’s name.”
He hesitated. “Person is short for Persephone. You know what that means?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes, of course. That means queen of the underworld.”
He nodded. “Poor Person. From the looks of her, you’d never know there’s just a ten year age difference there. Baby sister didn’t have a chance.” He tossed his coffee cup into the trash. “I’ll be back later with news.”
They watched him walk out the door.
Trent turned to Rayna. “I like your brother.”
She pursed her lips. “You said he was a creepy weirdo.”
“That was when he was a creepy weirdo. Now he’s your brother.” He smiled. “I like him because he was raised in hell and survived, and seems normal. Because he made the decision to look for you. If it wasn’t for him, neither one of us would be here.”
She gave him a weepy smile. “Because of the Mudwing family, you’ve lost your home and everything you own. You’ve lost a small fortune, Trent. And because of me, you have a horrible black eye.”
“You can give me a black eye any day of the week.” He put both hands on her shoulders. “You have to know, I didn’t lose the most important thing in my life.”
“That Mont Blanc fountain pen in the original box?” she teased. “You found it?”
“Why did you bring that up? I’d forgotten all about it. Now I’m really sad!” He winked and pulled her close. “If anything had happened to you, life wouldn’t be worth living. I love you, Rayna. I love you more than you can possibly know or understand.”
A warmth grew inside her; a completeness that she’d never felt until that moment. She knew from the calmness swamping through her that her life would be good from that moment forward.
“Oh Trent. I love you too.”
He shifted in his chair. “I have a gift for you.” He pulled a rolled paper from his back pocket.
“What’s that?”
“Take a look.” He stood and spread it in front of her. He had to hold down the curved edges. “Louis gave it to me. It’s the architectural plans for the house. We can rebuild if you want. I know you loved the place, and I’m willing to—”
“No, Oh Trent, no.”
“No?” He looked at her as if he wasn’t sure what she was saying.
She smiled and shook her head. “I love you more than anything in the world. More than that house.”
Trent let go of the house plans. With a fluttering sound, they rolled back into their tubular form. “Spell it out for me. What are you saying?”
“Remember when I said that Person acted a little strange when I told her we were having the wedding there?”
He nodded.
“She didn’t want me to marry in that house. If she was willing to sacrifice herself for me—for us, then I don’t believe we should rebuild it.” Her voice broke, and Trent pulled her into his arms.
“Then I’d say she loved you very much, in her own strange and twisted way. Okay, we won’t rebuild, and obviously we won’t be getting married in that house. So, let’s get married today. Now.” He looked at his watch. “This minute!”
Rayna smiled. “I feel sad. I can’t think of anything worse than marrying into the Mudwing family.”
He took her chin between his fingers and caressed it. “You aren’t marrying into the Mudwing family. You’re marrying into the over-sized, always-hyper, weird-in-their-own-way Jones family. When you meet them, you might regret ever meeting me. That’s why we need to marry now.”
His face grew serious. His brows hovered low over his eyes as he stared into hers. “I want you now, Rayna. I don’t want to spend another night with Louis, away from you. I want to hold you in my arms tonight and wake up with you in the morning. I want to start our lives together. Now. This second!”
She put her hand on his cheek and kissed him. “We’ve started our lives together, Trent, at midnight little more than eleven weeks ago. Now, it’s time to live and love the details.” She put her lips next to his ear. “Me, you...and Tiva.”
He kissed her back. “And Tiva.”
A word about the author...
Jessica Ferguson is a novelist and co-editor of Swamp Lily Review, A Journal of Louisiana Literature & Arts. She is a staff writer for Southern Writers Magazine.
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