Broken Like Glass

by E. J. McCay

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Against Uriah’s protests, and to be fair, my better judgment, I stayed less than a week at Uriah’s house. I insisted on being back at my cabin. The idea that the town lips could be flapping bad stuff about Uriah or his momma bothered me.

  I’ve taken up my usual spot on the deck, feet on the railing, watching the woods when there’s a rap on the door, and Bo lets himself in with a yell, “Hello?”

  “Hey.” My voice still sounds tired even with all the resting I’m doing.

  “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine,” I say and move my ankle. It still hurts pretty bad.

  “You missed church tonight.”

  “Missed means I was aiming to be there in the first place.”

  “You’re not going to come anymore?” he asks as he sits next to me.

  “Why? I can judge myself just as harshly as those church folk. I don’t need a choir for backup.”

  “Lilly, they’re just…”

  “Jerks?”

  “Sinners.”

  I jerk my head in his direction. “You sure they know that?”

  Bo laughs. “I didn’t say they did.”

  “Besides, your daddy and momma aren’t wanting my kind in their church.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means they’ve always thought bad of me. It’s okay. I understand, but doesn’t mean I want it in my face all the time.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “Bo, you remember when we were kids? We would play with your cars and trucks and build forts?”

  Bo knits his eyebrows together. “Well, yeah.”

  “You ever remember coming to my house?”

  I can see him thinking. Under normal, less serious circumstances, I’d be teasing him about smoke coming out of his ears.

  “Think about it, Bo. Think real hard.”

  “It’s just cause my momma was home more. I had better toys anyway.”

  “It’s cause your momma and daddy didn’t like me or my family.”

  “That’s not true. Don’t think like that.”

  “You remember when we were about thirteen or fourteen. Your momma caught us play wrestling? You remember her yanking you up by your ear and yelling at you?”

  What I’m saying starts hitting him like I’m throwing rocks at him and his family.

  “I’m not mad, Bo. Not at them, or you or anyone. I’m just saying, your momma thinks you deserve better than the likes of me. I can’t say I don’t agree with her. You deserve better than me.”

  “Lilly, she’s just being a mom. She’s always been like that with people. She wants what every mom wants: for their kids to be happy.”

  “She wants you happy with someone and that someone is not me.”

  “My momma doesn’t get to decide who I love or spend my life with.”

  I let out a long sigh. “Bo, n…”

  He interrupts me. “No, you listen. When you went missing in the woods, I thought about how it would be if I didn’t have you in my life. It broke my heart. I know we’re friends. I know I don’t want to hurt our friendship, but I can’t keep this any longer. I’ve loved you my whole life. I loved you before I even knew what loving someone meant. Your fiery spirit, your intelligence, and your kindness. All of it. I love all of you. The parts you don’t want anyone to see. The parts you think are hidden.”

  I’m staring at Bo wide-eyed. Uriah was right. He’s sweet on me and he’s been sweet on me. I’ve never given him any reason to think it was mutual, but here he is.

  “Well, don’t you feel something for me? All those times we would lie on the hood of the car and look at the stars and talk about life? All those times we would hang out after the youth group went home? Don’t you love me too?”

  I wilt inside. “Oh, Bo, I don’t. I don’t feel that way for anyone.”

  “Uriah.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Liar. You’re a bald face liar. I know you feel something for Uriah. I just hoped what you felt for me was more.”

  I shake my head, stand, and hobble to the corner of the railing. This is not what I planned. I put my hand over my mouth and try to think of words that will comfort my best friend in the whole world. “I don’t love anyone, Bo. I don’t think I can. Not really love them. Not the way they deserve to be loved.”

  “You don’t get to judge how someone else feels loved, though, Lilly.”

  “Please don’t, Bo. Please don’t. You’re going to get mad at me and I can’t take it right now. I need my best friend. I need you to be my best friend.”

  Bo gets up, walks over, and stands directly in front of me. “I want to be more than your best friend, Lilly. I want to be your best friend, and so much more.” He tries to sound tender, but there’s something else there. Something in his voice I’ve heard before. Not from him, but from someone else. It’s not what he’s saying, it's behind what he’s saying.

  “Bo, if you really care for me like you’re saying you do, then you’ll love me like I’m asking. Please, just be my friend.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches, his forehead creases, and he reaches out and takes my both my arms in his hands. “Do me one favor,” he says and licks his lips. “Kiss me. Kiss me and if you don’t feel anything then I’ll accept being friends. It’ll hurt me like crazy because I’m crazy about you, but I’ll do it.”

  I stare at him wide eyed. Kiss him? This isn’t high school and I don’t want to kiss him. The idea turns my stomach. What do I do? Everything inside of me is screaming no, but at the same time, if I kiss him and I don’t feel anything then he’ll be free to find someone who does love him. Someone who will kiss him and see nothing but him when they do.

  “All right, but if I don’t feel anything then you’re just my friend and you’ll find a way to be okay with that, right?” Anxiety is flooding my veins. The picture of his lips on mine flashes in my mind and all I want to do is throw up. I don’t know why I’m having this reaction, but I’d almost rather die than kiss Bo.

  Bo nods and smiles. Those thin lips and that squishy smile. I close my eyes and I can feel him close to my face. His mouth presses against mine and at first it’s not as bad as I pictured it. It’s just me and him and high school all over again. I don’t feel anything about him other than friendship.

  Then the moment shifts when his tongue tries to invade my mouth. I push him back. “I’m sorry, Bo, I can’t. I just can’t.”

  He steps closer, wraps his arms around me, and looks at me hard. “You said you’d kiss me.”

  “But Bo, you have to feel this isn’t right. It doesn’t feel right. We may love each other, but it isn’t that kind of love. It’s the kind of love that skips rocks, fishes together, or sits on a deck just talking. It’s not the kissing kind of love.”

  His body is pressing hard against me. “I want you, Lilly. I’ve wanted you for so long.” He narrows his eyes at me. The way he’s looking at me isn’t the way I want someone to look at me, especially if what they’re wanting is my affection. He’s a hawk and I’m a tiny mouse.

  I’m nervous now. This is a side of Bo I’ve never seen. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this either. My head is swimming and the only thing I can think of is to do what I said I’d do. I’ll have to bleach my mouth after, but I’ll do it. “I said I’d kiss you and I will.”

  He smiles this thin, hard smile like he’s won something he’s cheated to get. His mouth is on mine before I can even close my eyes.

  I kiss him back. I kiss those nasty, squishy lips. His hands are holding me tight and his slippery tongue is all in my mouth. Disgust splashes at my ankles, hits my waist, and by the time he’s done kissing me I’m under it, gasping for air. I don’t stop kissing him until he’s done with me.

  I feel a deep down dirty I haven’t felt in a long time. Those memories that had been trying to scratch at my surface have broken through and now I remember why Mr. Marlin made me feel the way he did. Men, telling m
e they love me, asking me what I want, and then taking from me what they want regardless of how I feel about it.

  “Did you get what you want, Bo?” Every bit of good that tried to find a way into me has been stomped out and all that is left is black and bitter. My darkness is a mountain and the little light that tried to shine is crushed under the weight of it.

  Bo looks at me, this puzzled look on his face like he doesn’t know what’s wrong. “Lilly?”

  “I don’t feel anything. I don’t love you like that. I will never love you like that. I don’t love anyone and I will never love anyone. All my love. All my goodness. All my lightness died tonight,” I say flatly.

  He stumbles back from me and says, “But…”

  “You got what you wanted from me, right?”

  I see Bo’s posture soften. For a moment, he just stands there looking at me like I’ve slapped him. He opens his mouth to say something and clamps it shut. His chest is heaving in and out and I can feel he’s trying to figure out if he’s hurt or mad.

  “I’d like to be alone now if that’s all right by you.”

  “I…”

  I walk to my chair, sit down, and put my feet on the railing. “Be a dear and shut the door on your way out.”

  His shoes clack on the floor and he stops behind me.

  I look at him over my shoulder. “Don’t come back, Bo. You and me. Our friendship has come to an end.”

  Bo’s shoes clack on the floor all the way to the door. It opens and clicks shut.

  Papa tries to talk to me, but I tune Him out. I don’t want to talk to Him now. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk to Him again.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  I spend the next week and a half hiding in my cabin. Moody May has turned into hot June. The deck is covered for the most part, so I sit on the deck, watching the birds. My groceries seem to last, but it helps when you have no appetite.

  The first couple of days, Uriah comes to the cabin trying to talk to me. I stand behind the locked door and tell him to go away.

  The depth of my darkness seems to have no end like those caves in the movie when they throw a stone and you never hear it hit bottom.

  Papa keeps trying to talk to me, but I am in no mood to listen. I want to want to listen. I desperately want to talk to Papa, but I’m battered and bruised and broken. I think Papa has done all this stuff to me and He’s mean. He’s punishing me for stabbing my daddy. I don’t know why He let all the other bad stuff happen to me, but I figure I’m due bad because I’ve been bad, somehow.

  I think on the conversation in the woods. I try to remember He loves me, but all my hurt keeps me distant and deaf. My soul keeps crying out for my Savior, but my broken heart keeps pushing Him away. It’s a war in my spirit which leaves me feeling exasperated and confused.

  I called Chrissy the first few times and she bought my excuse, but today when I call, she says she’ll see me at eleven. I still can’t walk on my ankle, so I call Uriah and he gives me a ride.

  As I get in the truck, he says, “I’m glad you called.” He’s all vibrant and light and beautiful.

  “My ankle still hurts.”

  “Is that the only reason you called?”

  “Yes.”

  “You feeling okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “You gonna give me more than one-word answers?”

  “No.”

  “Talk to me, Lills.”

  “I don’t want to talk, Uriah. I just want to go to my therapy session and come home.”

  “You going to talk to Chrissy?”

  “No.”

  “She’s not going to like that.”

  I purse my lips and look out the window. I’m done small-talking. If my ankle didn’t still hurt, I’d be walking to my appointment.

  Uriah goes on talking, acting like I’m not in a sour mood. “I’ve been helping Chrissy with her wedding.” His cheerful spirit touches my melancholy and I wither under the exposure. After what happened with Bo, I can’t seem to shake the fog that has settled in and around me.

  “I don’t need an explanation of what you do with your time. You aren’t obligated to me.” Not having spoken to anyone since Bo left, I don’t realize how detached and foreign I sound to my own ears.

  “I wasn’t giving you an explanation because I feel obligated. I was talking to you because I haven’t seen you in a while. I’ve missed you.”

  I nod and look out the window.

  “Lilly, did something happen?” Uriah sounds worried.

  I grunt. “Nothing that needs sharing.”

  Uriah stops talking after that. When he drops me off at therapy, I tell him thank you and walk to her office.

  Chrissy greets me with a smile as I walk in. I take my place in the chair with my hands folded in my lap. I can’t fight the gloom I feel. Chrissy sits down across from me and studies me for a while. “Lilly, are you okay?”

  “You should call Judge Kringle and tell him I’ve stopped cooperating. I’m not talking anymore.”

  “But you’ve been doing great.”

  “Well, I’m done.”

  Chrissy looks at me slack jawed. Her face is etched with even more concern now. “No, Lilly. I won’t.”

  “I deserve it. I did it. People saw me do it. I stabbed my daddy in the Thriftway. I don’t care why I did it and neither should anyone else.”

  She looks desperate now. I used to feel desperate so I know how it feels, but I’ve got nothing left in me to help her. Chrissy is shell shocked. I can tell her mind is running a mile a minute. Trying to figure out what to do. How to help me.

  “There’s no help for girls like me, Chrissy. I’ll tell the judge you did your best. You tried with all your might, but there was just nothing to cure what I got. I’m bad and bad girls go to jail. It’s okay, Chrissy, really.” I don’t even try to catch the tears that fall.

  Then something happens that sends an earthquake all the way to my very core. Chrissy stands up, walks over, kneels down and hugs me. Not just hugs me but holds me tight like she can feel me slipping and she’s the only thing to keep me from falling off the edge. The show of affection is more than I expected. I expected a cold, therapist distance, but Chrissy is giving me something I needed and was too proud to ask for at that moment.

  “Lilly, I’m so sorry for what has happened to you. I can’t take back anything that’s been done to you. I wish I could. Oh, you have no idea how much I wish I could. In school and youth group, you were always the one with a quick come back, the funny girl who made everyone laugh. I was so envious of you because you had such an ease like you didn’t care who liked you or what was popular. You were comfortable being you and it made me so jealous.”

  “I was jealous of you ‘cause you were so pretty and popular. Misty hated you and that was good enough reason to think you were wonderful,” I say.

  Chrissy lets me go. “Look at us. Assuming something about the other and never really finding the truth. We could have been such good friends had I been smarter.”

  I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “You wouldn’t have wanted to be my friend. It’s best you steer clear of me.”

  “When I’m no longer your doctor, we’re going to be best friends, you and me. The best girlfriends either of us has ever had.”

  I purse my lips and try to hold back any more tears. “I can’t talk to Papa right now. I’m mad at Him so I’m going to tell you some stuff so I won’t be so mad and maybe I can talk to Papa again. I’m desperate for Him.”

  “Papa?”

  “Uriah thinks I’m squirrelly. I call Jesus, Papa. I talk to Him a lot. He sits on my deck, and we have long spells where we just visit.”

  Chrissy nods. Her eyes look a little watery.

  “Bo came to my cabin and had me kiss him. I didn’t want to kiss him, but he said if I did he would accept that I didn’t have feelings for him. He’d accept that we were just friends.”

  “You didn’t want to kiss him.”

  “I
didn’t want to kiss him, but I’d heard that tone before. You know the one where someone says one thing, but they mean another? The one where you know if you don’t do what they say they’ll make you anyway?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, that’s the tone Bo had. That’s the tone one of Lucy’s step boys had. That’s the tone Mr. Marlin had. They say they want you to make the decision, but it’s really them that makes it. They aren’t really giving you an option. They say they are, but they aren’t.”

  Chrissy’s mouth parts, her eyes go wide, and she gasps.

  “One of Lucy’s boys, he put me and him under a blanket. Did things. Lucy caught us. Washed his mouth out with soap. I always thought she had him wash the wrong part. I told momma. She said to never speak of it. That if I didn’t speak of it, I’d forget it. I didn’t forget, but anytime I tried to bring it up, momma would tell me to stop it. I was living in the past and nothing could help the past. That the best thing to do was just let it go from my memory.”

  “And Mr. Marlin?”

  “His wife needed help from time to time. Momma would have me go over there and help her, and he’d catch me alone. Touch me. Kiss me. I don’t know how many times. I’d tell my momma, but she’d just think I was telling lies. She’d bust me and tell me I shouldn’t tell stories.”

  “Mr. Marlin?”

  My mouth is opening. I know I’m saying things, but my ears turn off so I just keep talking like I’m not really there. “One of the last times I was at his house. He caught me alone. Put his hands all over me. Down my pants. Up my shirt. I can still smell the nasty cologne he wore. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol on his breath as he shoved his tongue down my throat and felt me up.” I can’t stop myself from retching. Bile pours out of my mouth so fast I can’t stop it.

  Chrissy jumps and grabs the trash bucket. She snatches the box of tissue on the coffee table and hands it to me.