My mind scrambled for a story as the car drew near, some plausible way to explain what we were doing on a dirt road out in the middle of nowhere, wearing nothing but our nightshirts and coats. And then, almost before I knew it, the car was in front of us, a blue four-door Plymouth coated with miles of yellow dust.
The driver poked his head out, squinting one eye as he looked us over. “Something I can do for you ladies?”
I was afraid to trust my tongue. I shook my head instead, praying he would just drive away.
“Hell of a place to be walking all alone, and pretty cold, too. I’d be happy to give you a lift someplace.”
I felt Caroline’s hand tighten on my arm. Her eyes lifted to mine hopefully. Even in the thin morning light I could see that she was exhausted, her eyes shadowed, her lips blue with cold. Against my better judgment, I weighed our choices. I had no idea how much farther we’d have to go before we found a gas station, and then we would have to walk all the way back to the truck. We would lose hours of valuable time. And if they were looking for us, they’d be looking for a stolen delivery truck, not a blue four-door Plymouth.
The man was still staring, clearly waiting for an answer. He seemed to know I was looking him over, but didn’t seem to mind. “I promise I’m harmless,” he said at last.
There was something foreign about his voice, something hard and sharp I couldn’t quite place, but his smile was pleasant enough. “I saw a truck on the side of the road a few miles back. That belong to you?”
“No,” I answered abruptly. “We’re on our way to Richmond.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Richmond’s an awfully long way.”
“Our mother’s there,” Caroline chimed almost cheerfully. “We’re going there to live with her.”
The man smiled indulgently. “I see. You know, I could get you there a whole lot faster, and save you a lot of shoe leather, if you hop in. I’m going right past there.”
I glanced around sharply, my heart smacking against my ribs as I spotted a fresh pair of lights on the horizon. It took everything in me not to grab Caroline by the hand and break into another run. I could feel the man watching me, his eyes shifting between us and those lights.
“Get in,” he said firmly.
And so we did, with me in the front and Caroline in back. I held my breath, as he put the Plymouth in gear and pulled away. I saw him watching the mirror, felt him watching me, too, as the distance between us and the new set of headlights quickly closed. I expected to see the flash of red lights at any moment. Instead, the car came alongside, then blew past us. I closed my eyes and breathed what would have been a prayer—if I believed in prayer.
When I opened my eyes he was studying me again. We went several miles before he finally spoke. “You don’t have to hold on to that the whole time, you know. You can put it in the back.”
I looked down at the lumpy pillowcase, clutched tight against my chest, and shook my head. I felt safer somehow holding on to it. I wondered what he must think of us, two girls walking down an empty road at dawn, with the hems of our nightgowns peeking from beneath our coats, and everything we owned stuffed into a single pillowcase. It was a wonder he had stopped at all.
“I’m Jasper Mitchell,” he said. “I’m on my way back to New York. I left California a few days ago.”
I knew it was an offhand way of getting me to tell him my own name, but I didn’t. Instead, I thanked him for picking us up, then turned my face to the window. It wasn’t long before I heard Caroline’s soft, rhythmic breathing coming from the backseat.
“So, Richmond . . .” Jasper said, trying to sound casual. “Your mother’s there?”
I nodded, still staring out the window. The sun was full up now, and I could see small farmhouses in the distance, mailbox posts along the road.
“What part of Richmond? I’ve got friends there.”
My mind went blank suddenly. I knew nothing about Richmond. I had simply pulled it out of the air to make the lie about Mama seem real. “I’m not sure,” I stammered thickly. “She only just moved there.”
I wasn’t the least bit convincing, but it must have satisfied him because he didn’t ask any more questions. We drove in silence for a while, Caroline snoring in earnest now, just behind me.
“Look,” Jasper said quietly, when we had gone a few more miles, “I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, but I can see that it’s something.” He waited for me to answer, but must have seen that I wouldn’t. “Your mother isn’t in Richmond, is she?”
The lines on the road became a watery blur as we sped on. I shook my head. “My sister thinks she is. I lied so she’d come with me.”
“So if you’re not on your way to Richmond, where are you headed?”
“Somewhere . . . anywhere far away.”
“You’re running from something—from someone?”
I nodded, brushing a tear from my lashes. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t my fault, that I hadn’t done anything wrong, but that wasn’t true anymore. I had stolen money, and a car. “We had to leave,” I said instead.
“You weren’t . . . You don’t need a doctor, do you?”
A fresh well of tears stung my eyes at his kindness. I shook my head, my throat too tight to speak. For the first time since climbing in the car, I let myself look at him. He had the look of a boy, blond-haired and blue-eyed, with a full lower lip and straight white teeth, but the faint creases at the corners of his eyes told me he’d seen much more of life than a boy. His suit, too, had seen its share of life—shiny at the elbows and threadbare at the cuffs. I think it was that suit that finally made me trust him.
“My name is Lily-Mae,” I said, at last. “My sister is Caroline.”
“Well, Lily-Mae, I think your sister has the right idea. We’ve got a lot of road ahead of us, and you look like you could use some sleep. Why don’t you close your eyes? We’ll talk some more after you’ve gotten some rest.”
He smiled then, as if we were old friends, and for the first time in what felt like years, I felt the knot in my belly relax.
The next time I opened my eyes we were pulling into a parking lot dotted with trucks and shiny metal campers. I sat up, blinking at the enormous arrow-shaped sign over the door. Dixie’s Truck Stop Diner.
“Sorry,” Jasper said, pointing to the dash. “I wanted to let you sleep, but the needle was heading for E. Besides, I thought you might be hungry.”
My arm was numb from being curled beneath me. I tried to rub the blood back into it. “Where are we?”
“We crossed over into Virginia about an hour ago.”
The words brought a small flutter of relief—we were out of Tennessee—but it reminded me, too, that I would soon have to tell Caroline the truth. I peered at her in the backseat, still asleep, bless her. But after what she’d been through I wasn’t really surprised. I shook her gently, until her eyes drifted open, muddled with sleep and confusion.
“Are we here? Are we at Mama’s?”
“No,” I said, biting my lip as I caught Jasper’s eye. “We just stopped to get something to eat. Sit up now, and button your coat. It’s cold out.”
Jasper saw to the empty tank, then parked the car. I grabbed the pillowcase as we got out, and threw it over my shoulder. Heads turned as we stepped into the diner. I didn’t begrudge them their stares. How could I, when I was wearing a nightgown under my coat?
We found the bathroom while Jasper ordered food. I tried not to look at my reflection as I stood at the sink, at the cheekbones that were still so sharp, the eyes that were still so shadowed, the face of a stranger—or an escapee from the local asylum. I finger-combed my hair—I didn’t own a brush anymore—and splashed my face with cold water, then traded my nightgown for the one set of clothes I had to my name.
Jasper was waiting with two greasy white bags. We piled back into the Plymouth, devouring our h
amburgers before we’d reached the edge of town. When the scenery became sparse, Caroline folded up in the backseat, and was soon snoring softly. I thought about doing the same, but knew I wouldn’t sleep. The bleakness of our situation was beginning to sink in.
“Maybe it’s time we talk about where you and your sister are heading,” Jasper said solemnly when we’d been driving a while. “I’ll drop you wherever you want, but I’ve got to tell you, I don’t like the idea of you and your sister on your own in a place where you don’t know anyone. It isn’t safe. Do you even know how you’ll get by?”
I snuck my hand into my coat pocket, comforted by the wad of stolen bills there. “I have some money. And I’ll get a job—two, if I have to. I can wait tables, or wash dishes. And I’ve worked in an office.”
He eyed me skeptically. “It’s an awful lot for one set of shoulders. Isn’t there anyone you can go to? Relatives? Friends?”
“It’s just Caroline and me. There’s no one else.”
“What about me?”
I turned to look at him. I didn’t understand.
“I could be your friend, Lily-Mae—if you let me.”
My heart went cold beneath my ribs. Zell had wanted to be my friend. For an instant, I forgot Caroline was asleep in the backseat, forgot we here hurtling down the highway. Not again. Never again. My hand crept to the door handle.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Lily-Mae. It wouldn’t be like that.” He reached for my arm, then seemed to think better of it. “I mean help. Nothing more.”
“What kind of help?” I asked warily.
“I could get you a little work—not a lot to start, but some—and help you find a place to stay. A safe place. If you want to come to New York.”
“Why would you want to help me?”
“Because someone needs to, and it might as well be me. I could tell you stories, but I won’t. Let’s just say I’ve seen too many girls, good girls, get in over their heads. I’d hate to see that happen to you, or to Caroline. You seem like a nice kid, one who could use a break.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then a few more for me to realize he meant them. Still, I tried to tamp down the glimmer of hope they had sparked. “What kind of work?”
“Modeling.” He fished around in his jacket until he came up with a tattered business card. “It’s what I do. Scout for models.”
I stole another glance at his suit, at his shiny elbows and shabby cuffs.
He grinned when he caught me looking. “Okay, so it’s been a little slow lately, but I’ve got an eye for faces. That’s why I was in California. I was out there scouting new faces. Who knew I’d find one on the side of the road?”
“I’m not a model,” I told him, handing back the card.
“No, but you could be. I’m not saying you couldn’t do with a little fattening up, and maybe someone who knows what to do with that hair of yours, but I promise you, you’ve got the face. Redheads are the rage right now. Like I said, it wouldn’t be much to start. It’s hard breaking in, but once you did—if you did—you could really be set.”
“But I don’t know anything about modeling.”
“No one does in the beginning. You’ll learn. If you don’t like it we’ll find you something else. In the meantime, you’ll have a little money coming in. And it sure beats washing dishes. So what do you say, want to come to New York and be my meal ticket?”
I had no idea what a meal ticket was. I only knew I didn’t feel afraid when Jasper Mitchell said it. I didn’t care about making it big, as long as I could keep us safe and fed.
“All right, I’ll go with you to New York.”
I turned to look at Caroline, huffing softly in the back, and wondered what she would say when she woke up and realized we weren’t in Richmond.
March 21, 1956
New York, New York
Caroline has sworn never to forgive me, and I’m starting to believe her.
We were nearly to Fredericksburg, a good hour past Richmond, when she finally woke up. Her hair was matted flat on one side, her eyes still heavy with sleep, when she poked her head up into the front seat.
“How much farther to Richmond?”
I felt Jasper’s eyes slide in my direction. I’d had hours, days even, to think of a way to tell her, but now that it was time I couldn’t find the words. It was too awful a thing to admit, too terrible to say out loud. And yet I had to.
“We’re not going to Richmond,” I blurted, quickly, like yanking off a bandage.
She blinked at me, groggy at first, and then wary. “Why not?”
“There was never a letter from Mama, Caroline. The money. Richmond. I made it all up. It was the only way I could be sure you’d come with me.”
“No!”
Her eyes filled as the words finally hit home, head shaking in denial as she slowly absorbed the truth. I had betrayed her, and in the cruelest way imaginable. Before I knew what was happening, she was flying at me over the seat, howling and clawing like a wounded thing. Jasper pulled off the road, but by then she’d gone limp against the seat, a shuddering heap of anguished sobs. I let her cry. She had a right to her tears.
Finally, she went quiet, the worst of her rage spent. I reached for her, but she flinched away, eyes shiny with hatred as they lifted to meet mine.
“Don’t you touch me!”
“Caroline, I know you’re angry, but I swear, I only did it to protect you. I had to get you away from there, and I was afraid you wouldn’t go.”
“Take me back. I don’t want to stay with you!”
Tears prickled along the backs of my lids. I blinked them away. I needed her to understand. “We’re not going back, Caroline. Not ever.”
“You were jealous! That’s why you did this! You were mad because Brother Zell was starting to like me!”
“That isn’t true. Caroline, listen to me. I know you’re too young to understand, but you have to trust me. Zell isn’t a nice man. He did things to me—bad things—and I was afraid he would do them to you, too. He said he would take you away from me if I ever told anyone what he did. That’s why we had to sneak away, and why I had to lie. Because I was afraid for you.”
“It’s a lie! You’re just a liar! I want Mama!”
My heart bled as she pulled her knees to her chest and began to cry again. Jasper was looking at me, his eyes full of pity. He understood what I was trying to tell Caroline, even if she didn’t. I looked away, tears flowing before I could check them. A moment later, he pressed a neatly folded handkerchief into my hand.
“Go ahead and cry it all out,” he said as he cranked up the car and pulled back onto the highway. “God knows you’ve earned it.”
That was two weeks ago, and she’s barely uttered a word since. She doesn’t understand why I lied, doesn’t believe I was only trying to protect her. She doesn’t believe me about Zell, either. Still, I don’t regret my decision, or anything I did in those last days at Mt. Zion. I’ll never regret keeping the promise I made to Mama.
TWENTY-ONE
1995
Hideaway Key, Florida
Lily stood and stretched, working the stiffness out of her neck and shoulders. It would seem she’d read the entire day away. At some point she had switched on a light, just enough to see the pages in front of her, but the rest of the cottage was dark now and felt faintly gloomy. She switched on a few lights on her way to the kitchen, stomach grumbling as she peered first into the fridge and then into the cabinets in search of dinner. Unfortunately, everything required more time and effort than she was willing to invest. In the end, she settled for a box of Wheat Thins and a glass of chardonnay, and carried them out onto the deck.
The darkness was strangely comforting as she eased into one of the plastic chairs and perched her bare feet on the railing. The night was damp and unusually still, the sky a moonles
s stretch of indigo punched full of stars.
Lily sipped her wine, barely tasting it. The past few days had yielded any number of intriguing discoveries, many of which she was still trying to comprehend. For instance, how did a girl of seventeen find the courage to pull off what Lily-Mae had, knowing full well what would happen if even the smallest detail went awry?
She could only imagine what it must have been like, expecting to be caught at any moment with her hands in Zell’s cash box, waiting in the dark for the other girls to fall asleep so she and Caroline could slip out unseen, stealing a truck, walking miles in the cold and dark, constantly looking over her shoulder, terrified Zell would come after her, find her, bring her back.
And yet, it was the lie that had haunted Lily-Mae most, the fear that Caroline would never forgive her for such a heartbreaking falsehood. Obviously her fears had been well-founded. Lily couldn’t blame her mother for feeling betrayed. She was only thirteen at the time, a child who believed she was about to be reunited with the mother she hadn’t seen in nearly three years, only to have her hopes dashed by the one person she thought she could trust. But Caroline wasn’t a child now. She was past the age of childish hurts, wise enough in the ways of the world to understand that Lily-Mae had simply done what she felt she needed to do in order to protect them both. She didn’t, though, and clearly never would. It was all just water under a very long and bitter bridge.
And yet, Lily couldn’t shake the horror of it. She would rather not have been reminded there were men like Harwood Zell in the world, and that Lily-Mae had fallen prey to one. Thank God, at least, for Jasper Mitchell. Without him there was no telling where the girls would have ended up. He had come to their rescue with his Plymouth and his offer of work, but where had it gone after that? Lily closed her eyes, conjuring his likeness from the Palm Beach photo, smiling and golden-haired. Friend? Lover? A husband, perhaps?
It was a question for another day. There were two more journals to get through, but she was finished for the night, content to sip her wine, empty her head, and munch her Wheat Thins in the dark.
Summer at Hideaway Key Page 17