Southern Girl

by Lukas,Renee J.

  “You love God more. I know.” She sadly pulled back the covers and rolled over with her back to him.

  “I am a preacher,” he countered. He was desperate. “You know how hard I’ve prayed that the Lord would guide me in the right direction? That I wouldn’t screw this up?” He hunched over his side of the bed, his face in his hands. “I prayed and prayed that I’d done the right thing. I even…called over at the Wallaces.”

  “You did?” Her face perked up and she rolled over.

  “They don’t know where they’ve gone,” he admitted.

  Carolyn felt the fear in him. It was almost the reassurance she needed to feel safe with him again, safe with her feelings for him. She raised up on her elbow and touched his shoulder. “Dan, you have to promise me from now on we make decisions about our family together.”

  “I promise.”

  “You told our daughter she wasn’t welcome in our house! You don’t speak for me!”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “I refuse to give up on her,” Carolyn said.

  “I’ll call over there again tomorrow,” he said, eager to please her. “I’ll do whatever I can to find her and bring her back. Whatever it takes.”

  Carolyn was tired. She knew he struggled with his roles every day, but until lately she had never doubted his devotion to his family. He’d told Ivy to leave their home without so much as a glance in her direction. Carolyn had begged her to stay, but she knew that Ivy wouldn’t, couldn’t, stay in a house where her father had basically disowned her.

  Carolyn feared she might not be able to forgive him for that. Even worse, she wasn’t sure exactly how she felt about him at all anymore. She couldn’t dig deeper—at least not now—for fear of what she might discover.

  Chapter Sixty

  It was a rainy, bleak weekend in December. The remainder of the Aimes family sat around the TV, watching Designing Women. They assembled on assorted, worn-out furniture, pretending to be as close as ever. As with everything lately, it felt to Jess like a charade, an imitation of a family.

  Danny sat on the couch with his arms crossed, his feet stretched out as far as he could in front of the coffee table. He appeared to be closing his eyes, drowning everything out.

  Jess lay on the floor in front of the TV so she could hear the episode while her parents talked behind her, their disagreement slowly escalating.

  “I don’t like it,” her mother said. “Let’s at least get our stories straight. Ivy is in England and visiting France.” The tension between them was palpable.

  Jess turned around. “Is that what y’all are sayin’?”

  “Yes,” her mother responded.

  “No way.” Jess grimaced. In her eyes, they had both sunk to a new low.

  “Don’t be disrespectful to your mother,” her dad said.

  Danny made an inaudible sound from the couch.

  “It’s not my idea,” her mother snapped.

  “You’re gonna undermine me in front of our daughter?” Her dad squeezed the armrest of his recliner.

  “Go ahead,” her mother said. “Hit something. That will change everything.” She was practically flying off the rails now, unconcerned about how she sounded in front of the kids.

  So her mother knew of her dad’s fits of anger. She’d dared him to hit something. After seeing him in the shed that night and the way he’d shoved Danny against the wall, Jess worried how much more the violence might escalate. He was a human ticking bomb.

  Everyone got quiet when a character on the show, Imogene, made a comment about AIDS. “This disease has one thing going for it. It’s killing all the right people.” To which Julia Sugarbaker responded with a stern and impassioned rebuke.

  “Incredible,” her father muttered. “Enough of this show.” He got up and cut it off.

  “What’re you doin’?” Jess protested. It was one of her favorite shows.

  “It’s more liberal brainwashing,” he replied, returning to his seat.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That woman, what’s her name, she’s actually stickin’ up for homosexuals.” He leaned forward, as if trying to have a teaching moment here. “You see, that’s what I’ve been talkin’ about in church, how TV and everywhere you look, they’re tryin’ to normalize what can’t be normal.”

  “So you think it’s true?” Jess asked. “That it might be a punishment for bein’ gay?” Of course she was referring to AIDS. Her question was pointed, and his answer mattered more to her than she would let him know.

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he said. “But God works in mysterious ways. You never know.”

  Jess’s heart sank, hearing her father’s opinion…

  “They ain’t the only ones gettin’ it,” Danny said as he got up, zipping his jacket.

  “Where you goin’?” their dad asked.

  “I told you,” Danny said. “Wade’s pickin’ me up. You said I could go tonight.”

  “First of all,” their father said, “I don’t like your attitude. Second of all, you’re not leavin’ this house lookin’ like that.”

  Danny was wearing a Led Zeppelin T-shirt with holes in it, a gray zip-down sweatshirt with hood, and the dirtiest jeans he owned. Jess smiled to herself: her brother was now getting some of the scrutiny over his clothes that she always had. Obviously he had a few things to learn in that regard. It wasn’t very smart of him to pick jeans with mud stains on them; the denim was so dirty it could almost stand up on its own and walk out of the closet.

  “We gave him permission to go to the concert,” their mom interjected.

  “What concert?” their dad asked.

  “A rock band,” she replied.

  “Dirty Buttholes,” Danny added.

  Jess laughed out loud. So close! Sometimes she thought her brother wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He’d almost won his case. If only he hadn’t mentioned the band’s name.

  “What the hell kind of a name is that?” Their father shook his head. “You’re not goin’. That’s final.”

  “What?” Danny was incensed. “Wade’ll be here any minute!”

  “And that’s the same kid your mother and I didn’t like you hangin’ around.”

  “You can’t just change on me at the last minute,” Danny cried. “We have tickets. We’re goin’ all the way to Knoxville!”

  “Not tonight you aren’t,” their dad replied, ignoring the outrage swirling about the room.

  “Mom?” Danny squealed.

  “What your father says goes,” she replied bitterly. “Obviously, he is the only one who has any say.”

  Their dad rose to his feet. “I am the head of this household,” he said in that soft, eerie tone and went into the kitchen. “I’d appreciate your support, Carolyn.” Rarely did he say her name, which indicated that things were very rocky between them.

  “I don’t agree with you, Dan,” she said simply and left the room.

  Jess quietly watched the unbelievable scene unfold.

  “This sucks!” Danny yelled toward the kitchen. “You’re mad at Ivy and takin’ it out on me! I’m not the one who got pregnant!”

  “Git back here!” their dad hollered. But Danny had already stormed upstairs, where “fucks” were flying out of his mouth and he was punching things in his bedroom.

  Moments later, Jess’s father was outside, explaining to a carload of boys that Danny couldn’t go with them. She heard his light laughter, his pleasant drawl. “He must’ve gotten the days confused,” her dad said. “Yeah, he promised us he’d be goin’ out with us tonight, so…real sorry ’bout this, boys.”

  For someone who was so big on everything the Bible said, Jess noted with scorn, he hadn’t seemed to have any problem lying about why Danny wouldn’t be joining them.

  Later that night, Carolyn caught Jess in the hallway as she was on her way to bed. She could always tell from her mother’s tone when her parents had had a talk and her mother had been sent to do damage control. She’d try to br
eeze over the fact that her father was increasingly becoming a lunatic.

  “I’m sorry about all the ruckus tonight,” her mother said. “I know you like that show.”

  “Looks like I can’t watch it anymore.”

  She followed Jess to her bedroom. “No, I’ll speak with him about it. Don’t worry.”

  How would that solve anything? Jess wasn’t confident her mother could win an argument in this house lately.

  “I’m also sorry about…what I said in front of you and your brother.” Her mother was trying to appear unified with her father.

  “Sorry about what? For sayin’ how you feel?”

  A smile escaped from Carolyn’s face.

  “You’re the daughter I can’t lie to,” she said, much to Jess’s surprise. “We’re more alike than you realize. If you only knew how many times I got in trouble in school for saying what I felt.”

  “We’re not much alike then,” Jess said. “I don’t say a word in school, at least not in class.”

  Carolyn nodded knowingly. “Smart girl.”

  “Teachers say they want to know what you think, but they don’t.” She paused. “Just like everybody else.”

  “I may disagree with him,” her mother said. “But since your father told everyone that Ivy went abroad, we have to keep to that story. We don’t need to broadcast our business all over town. You know how people like Abilene love gossip. And with your dad being a preacher…it wouldn’t look good.”

  “Have you heard from her?” Jess asked.

  “Your father is trying to find her and apologize. But so far…no.”

  Before she left Jess’s room, she stopped in the doorway. “Abilene mentioned the big Fullerton rivalry game. Isn’t that next weekend?”

  “I guess.”

  “You don’t know? It’s only the biggest game of the season.”

  “Since when do you care about the games?” Jess asked.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I want to go. I don’t know about your father. But I’ll be there.”

  “Don’t bother.” Jess sat up. “There’s no point.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not playin’ anymore.”

  “You love basketball!”

  “It’s not important to me anymore.” Jess did her best to sound convincing.

  “What happened?” Carolyn put her arm around her.

  “Nothin’.”

  “Something had to have happened.” Carolyn looked very upset. “Is it because of Alex? Because of what’s going on here? At home?” she asked.

  “No.” Jess hung her head and hoped her mother would drop the subject. But since basketball had been her reason for existing for so many years, her mother wasn’t going to let it go.

  “I noticed you haven’t talked much about your friends lately,” her mother said. “Are you not getting along with your teammates?”

  Jess chuckled in spite of herself. “That’s an understatement.”

  “It’s jealousy,” her mother said, grabbing both of her shoulders. “Take it from me, when you do something better than other people, they will hate you for it. But you can’t let them dim the light inside you. You understand?”

  Jess nodded, and her mother released her.

  “You won’t reconsider?” she asked.

  Jess had to come up with something more believable. She tried a philosophical approach. “My interests are changing. I realized this isn’t what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

  “You could’ve fooled me.”

  Her mother’s stare was long and excruciating, so she averted her eyes.

  “Your father will be pleased,” her mother added with more than a hint of rancor, though Jess wasn’t sure if it was directed at her or him.

  “What’s his deal with girls and sports? It’s not like it’s the fifties.”

  Her mother nodded. “I know. He’s a little old-fashioned.”

  “The ‘head of the household’…” Jess muttered underneath her breath.

  “You caught that, eh? It means different things to different people. In this house, it means respect. Of course that means respecting both of us.” She smoothed out a wrinkle in her skirt.

  However her mother tried to spin it, Jess knew very well what her father had meant. He always had to get his way, right down to what brand of butter they should buy. Even when they found out what they’d been buying killed rats dead in a lab, he still refused to switch brands.

  Jess stared at the door long after her mother left. How could she sit idly by while their family was falling apart?

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Coach Drysdale got wind of Jess quitting the team the Monday before the big game and immediately called her into her office.

  “You didn’t think I was just going to let you wave bye and that’s that?” the coach hollered. “Your star player decides to quit and…You’re gonna have to explain yourself.”

  The coach took her creaky seat, and for a long minute or two that was the only sound in her office. Jess gritted her teeth without a clue how to respond. She obviously hadn’t thought this part through. She watched as Coach Drysdale touched the crucifix that hung around her neck, as she’d seen her do many times before.

  Sorry, Coach. Jesus can’t help with this, she thought bitterly.

  “In all my years as a coach here, for the first time we’ve got a chance at beating Fullerton. That means the championship comes next. And you know why? Because of you. You!”

  Jess didn’t care about cheap compliments, even if she knew deep inside that she was the best.

  Sensing this, the coach tried a different approach. “Jess, come on. Remember what I said? No matter what it is, you can always come to me. I told you that, and I mean it. I know you love basketball. Whatever’s goin’ on, you can confide in me.” Then she leaned back in her chair. “It’s Alex, isn’t it? We all miss him.”

  “I don’t,” she said, much to the coach’s obvious surprise.

  “’Scuse me?”

  “I mean I do, but not like you’d think I would.” Jess surprised herself. She hadn’t planned to say that, but lately she wasn’t very good at censoring herself. There was no telling what might fly out of her mouth next. “Never mind. I can’t tell you, so forget it. Okay?”

  “No! Not okay. I want to help. I can’t if you don’t tell me.”

  Her face was suddenly so warm, so open. Jess wanted to tell someone, to tell them and have them shoulder some of her burden.

  “Someone on the team knows somethin’ about me,” Jess mumbled. “She told me to quit or she’ll tell everyone.”

  She was taken aback by the coach’s almost playful smile. This was only the destruction of her life, after all.

  “A little good ole-fashioned blackmail, huh?” The coach didn’t seem to be taking this seriously. “That’s nothin’!” she laughed. “There’s nothin’ a player could say about you that would merit you leavin’ the team.”

  Jess doubted that.

  “What is it?” the coach pressed. “You can tell me anything.”

  “I was in a relationship.”

  “With Alex, I know.” The coach tried to follow along.

  “No. I mean yeah. I mean, it only looked like that to everybody. I didn’t really like Alex that way.”

  “And you’re feelin’ guilty? It’s okay.”

  Jess could tell that the coach couldn’t wait to put the Band-Aid on, reassemble her team and beat Fullerton. At this point, it seemed, she would have been okay if Jess told her she had shot her mother.

  “The thing is…” Jess eyed her carefully. Could she trust her? “The thing is, I was in another relationship.”

  The coach chuckled. “So? There’s nothin’ wrong with that. At this age, you’re expected to date more than one person.”

  “It was with another girl.”

  The coach’s jaw tightened. “I see.” There was a long, dreadful silence. “Are you still in this relationship?” she asked stiffly.

  “No. It
’s over.” Jess looked down, feeling the judgmental glare from the coach.

  “Good.”

  When she looked up, it was as if a shade had been pulled down over the coach’s face. She seemed hard. “Does anyone else know about this?”

  “A couple of players. I don’t think anybody else.”

  The coach rolled her lips over each other until they disappeared. “It’s best no one else finds out. You make sure those players don’t repeat it, either.” She pointed her finger at her. After a pause, she said, “I guess that’s it then. You best go clean out your locker.”

  The room spun, the moment froze.

  “That’s it?” Jess cried. “What about ‘nothing could make me have to leave the team’?”

  “Well,” Coach Drysdale said, “it’s hard to explain. We can’t afford to have that kind of rumor…overshadowing the team, especially in girls’ sports.” She wouldn’t look Jess in the eye. She became suddenly more interested in the papers on her desk.

  Jess looked at her with pleading eyes. Where was the woman who had insisted she talk to her? A sick feeling settled in her gut as she realized what a mistake it had been to confide in her. Her face was red and burning hot.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have more help to give,” the coach said coldly, “but that’s one of those things…we can’t have that. I’m sorry.” Those were the only words she could offer, and her mouth was a tight, thin line as she spoke them.

  Jess got up and started for the door. Then she turned around.

  Sylvia Drysdale let out a long, slow breath, this time not only touching her crucifix necklace, but squeezing it. Jess wondered what was going through her mind. She’d never know for sure.

  There was nothing more to say. The coach’s mind was made up. Jess left her office, then went to the empty locker room. She cleaned out her locker, right down to the Olivia Newton-John magnet from Grease on the inside of the locker door. She threw everything into her backpack with extra force. Then she left, knowing she’d never return.