by Rena Olsen
“It’s not appropriate.” Nancy’s voice was sharp and left no room for argument. The men crossed the room and each grabbed one of Sydney’s arms. She immediately went wild, grabbing for my shirt, screeching and crying.
“Julia,” she cried, “don’t let them take me! Please! I’ll do better! I’ll do math! Please!”
Pressure built behind my eyes again as they dragged her to the door. My last glimpse of Sydney was the look of betrayal on her tear-stained face, and I knew I’d lost her.
Once her screams faded down the hallway, I stood up and began cleaning up the mess.
“One of the janitors will come and do that,” Nancy said. “No need to bother yourself.”
“It’s not a bother,” I said, feeling as if by putting back Sydney’s mess I could somehow atone for my part in this entire debacle. I’d had her. And I’d let her go. No wonder she saw everyone else as the bad guy. Her family left her here and then she was treated as a disposable piece of property when she stepped out of line. Admittedly, it wasn’t just a toe out of line. More like she flung her entire body across that line. And that required consequences. I understood that. But it still felt wrong. My stomach was a rock, and all the happiness from my phone call with Bryce had nearly disappeared.
“Julia.” Nancy was beside me, and she placed a hand on my arm. “Leave it for the custodial staff to take care of.”
I shook my head, fighting to maintain my composure.
“Susie is in the building today,” Nancy said. “Why don’t you go talk to her for a bit and then head home? I believe you have some celebrating to do.”
My eyes widened and I looked at her incredulously. “How can I celebrate now?”
Nancy wrenched the book I was stacking out of my hand and grabbed my wrists, giving me a slight shake. “Because your husband did something amazing, and he deserves to have his wife’s full attention and celebration tonight. This was a dreadful thing that happened, but it’s not about you. Today is about Bryce. You will go talk to Susie, you will shake off whatever feelings you have left, and then you will go dote on your handsome husband and not speak of it again.”
Not tell Bryce about what happened? Ever? I opened my mouth to argue.
“Never again,” Nancy said. “And if you can’t handle that, maybe the tutoring center isn’t for you.”
With that, she pulled me out of the classroom and deposited me outside Susie’s room. She was right. Of course she was right. This was why I saw Susie, so I could process through things that would hold me back, and keep all the ugliness away from my marriage. Taking a deep breath, I knocked and entered the room, ready to leave this afternoon behind.
* * *
—
My phone buzzed from my purse as I walked in the door a couple of hours later, arms full of groceries. I kicked my shoes off and rushed to put the bags on the table so I could get to the phone.
“Hello,” I said breathlessly.
“Should I be jealous?” Bryce’s voice teased. “Is someone else taking your breath away?”
I laughed, leaning against the table. “Only you, my love. I just got home.”
“Great,” he said. “I was just checking in. I should be home in an hour or so.”
“Perfect. Can’t wait to celebrate my brilliant husband.”
“And I can’t wait to ravish my gorgeous wife.”
“Bryce!” My skin flushed even though I was alone in the kitchen. “I hope no one heard that!”
“They wouldn’t blame me a bit,” he said, “but I’m alone.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
* * *
—
An hour later I stepped back to survey the table. Candles were lit and ready to go, wedding china set out, looking elegant. The house smelled like garlic from my spaghetti sauce. I used my grandma’s recipe, and it was always a hit, and Bryce’s favorite. Soft music played over the surround-sound speakers Bryce had installed throughout the house. I had changed into something even fancier, and was disappointed I hadn’t had time to shower as well. Maybe we could shower together after dinner. My heart fluttered at the thought.
I went back to stir the sauce, tasting just a sip. Perfect.
“Julia.” I jumped. I’d been so engrossed with my preparations that I’d missed Bryce’s entrance.
“Darling,” I said, but something in his eyes stopped me. I’d expected a cheerful greeting, but his gaze was cold, appraising. I smoothed my skirt and glanced nervously around the kitchen. What had I done wrong?
“Did you leave your shoes lying in the back room?” He held up one of my nude heels from earlier. I’d completely forgotten to put them away after rushing in to answer the phone.
I took a step toward him. “I’m so sorry, Bryce, I was coming in and the phone rang and—”
WHAM! Pain burst across the side of my face and I saw fireworks. It took me several moments to process that Bryce had just struck me across the face. With my high heel. I put a shaky hand up to my cheekbone and it came away with blood on the fingertips. Gently, I probed the spot, very near my eye. My vision had darkened, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the blow or the cut.
“Put them away,” Bryce said, his voice calm and colder than I’d ever heard it. He walked toward the stairs and then turned to say over his shoulder, “And don’t burn the sauce again. I’d hate for the entire evening to be ruined.”
Chapter 23
By the next morning, my eye had practically swollen shut. The night before, Bryce had left to change and came back as if nothing happened. He didn’t mention the blow, or my eye. I spent the evening blotting my tears and the cut while Bryce ignored both, even insisting on celebratory lovemaking. I gasped when I finally looked in the mirror later, after he was asleep, and I spent half the night with a bag of frozen peas clutched to my face.
I was brushing my teeth when Bryce walked into the bathroom. He looked at me in the mirror, frowned, and looked at his watch. “I suppose we should take you to the doctor about that.”
No apology. No remorse. In fact, he seemed annoyed that it would require a visit to the doctor. “It’s okay,” I said. “I can drive myself. I can still see out of the other eye.”
“Out of the question,” Bryce said. “I don’t need people asking questions when I’m not there.”
Ah. That was the real reason. He was worried that I would have to say what happened, which made sense. He wanted to control the situation. I knew better than to argue, so I just nodded and continued getting ready.
“I hope this doesn’t take long,” he grumbled as we pulled up to the clinic, and I gaped at the stranger sitting next to me in the car. Who was this man? Where had he been hiding all this time? And when could I have my husband back? He turned to me. “Listen, Julia, this is family business, okay? No one else needs to know how I handle my affairs, so let me deal with the doctor.” He didn’t give me a chance to argue. I didn’t know what I would have said if he had.
In the clinic, Bryce marched us straight up to the counter. The nurse in reception gasped when she looked at me. “Oh dear, my poor child, what happened?”
Bryce turned on the charm. “I’m a bit scatterbrained,” he said, his tone sheepish. “Last night I was helping with dinner and I left one of the cupboards open, and my poor wife walked right into it!”
The nurse looked dubious, but copied the information down. “This happened last night?” she asked, looking at me.
“Yes,” Bryce said before I could respond. “But it didn’t look nearly so bad then, and she didn’t want to go in. I insisted we come straight here this morning.”
I could only stare at him, shock radiating out of every part of me. When I noticed the nurse watching me, I carefully schooled my features into a neutral expression. It was the best I could do. Bryce gave them all our pertinent inform
ation and filled out the forms while I waited next to him.
“The doctor will be with you soon,” the nurse said. Bryce gave her a bright smile and a thank you and led me to a small couch in the waiting area. He placed a possessive arm around me, holding me close to his side. From my good eye, I could see the nurses stealing glances our way as they whispered to each other. They weren’t new to this story.
“Julia Covington,” a nurse called, and I stood. Bryce gripped my hand as we walked to the nurse. “Just Mrs. Covington, please,” she said, her tone friendly but careful.
“She’s my wife,” Bryce said. “I’d prefer to go with, and I’m sure she wants me to come as well.”
They both looked at me and I realized it was my turn to speak. Bryce squeezed my hand tightly enough that my fingers went numb. “Um, yes. Yes, I’d like him to come.” Bryce’s hold relaxed.
The nurse sighed. “Okay, then. This way.” She led us through a maze of hallways, stopping to take my height and weight and herding me into the bathroom for a quick urine sample, and then into an exam room, where she instructed me to hop up on the table while Bryce took a chair, his body the picture of ease, even though I could see the tension in his eyes.
“Your blood pressure is elevated, Mrs. Covington,” she said. “Are you experiencing any undue stress?”
“Well, my face hurts,” I said, and the corner of her mouth twitched.
“Of course. That would cause anyone stress. Anything else?”
I shook my head. “No, things are good.”
She asked me a few more questions and then left the room.
“Good girl,” Bryce said, as if I were a child who had done particularly well on a spelling test. “Just keep it up for the doctor and we’ll be fine.”
I nodded, not looking at him, and he leaned forward, his hand finding my knee.
“You know I’m sorry, right? You moved and it almost got your eye.”
As if it was my fault. I just looked at him.
“We’ll talk about it later, okay, sweetheart?”
“Fine.” My tone was clipped.
A knock sounded on the door and a tall woman with dark hair entered the room. “Hello, Julia, my name is Dr. Leeland. Is it okay if I call you Julia?”
“Sure,” I said, shrugging.
Bryce did not look pleased as he surveyed the doctor. “What happened to Dr. Herbert?”
“He’s on vacation,” she said, glancing at him. “The husband, I presume?”
“Bryce Covington.” He held out a hand, which she took in a perfunctory manner before dropping it.
“Lovely to meet you both. Since Dr. H. is on vacation and, Julia, you don’t yet have a primary care physician at this clinic, I volunteered to step in and take you on as a patient, if that’s okay. Many times women are more comfortable with a woman doctor.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Bryce said. “We’re happy to have you treat Julia today, but we’ll both continue seeing Dr. Herbert.”
“I believe that’s up to Julia,” Dr. Leeland said, not sparing Bryce a glance. “Let’s see how this visit goes before we pressure her into making a decision, shall we?”
“Dr. Herbert is a member of our church and I’ve been a patient of his for over a decade,” Bryce continued to argue. “I’m very happy with my care.”
“Wilbur speaks highly of your church and the pastor in charge.”
“The Reverend,” Bryce corrected.
“The Reverend.” Dr. Leeland was looking in my eyes with a flashlight. Her use of the name Wilbur brought forward flashes of a balding man in glasses at the Gathering, and now I knew why Bryce was so adamant that we stick with him. “Julia, can you look up for me? To the side? Other side? Down?”
She poked around a little more and frowned. “This needs stitches. How did you say it happened?”
“She—”
“I asked Julia,” Dr. Leeland said, her tone sharp as she interrupted Bryce.
“I, uh, ran into the corner of an open cupboard,” I said. “Silly accident, really.”
“I see.” She stepped back. “I’m going to go get a suture kit. I’ll be right back.”
Not a word was spoken while she was gone, and when she returned she had me move down to a stool so we were level with each other. “The numbing agent will deaden the skin around the cut, and you’ll feel some tugging when I put the stitches in. I think two will be plenty.” She injected the anesthetic and I winced, but soon half of my face was completely numb. “You’re lucky you missed the eye,” she said as she placed the first stitch. “Since you waited to come in, you’re at higher risk for infection, so I’m going to prescribe an antibiotic as well as a pain medication. This looks quite sore.”
I started to nod, and then remembered that she had a needle very close to my eye. “It is,” I said instead. “Actually, the numbing stuff helps, but my entire head has been throbbing all morning.”
She gave me a sympathetic look as she snipped off the second stitch and covered the cut. She disposed of the needle in the sharps container and moved the rest of the supplies to the counter before washing her hands. Crossing her arms, she leaned back against the sink and looked at me.
“Mr. Covington, I’m going to have to ask you to step out for a few minutes.”
Bryce had been silent since the doctor had returned, but now he spoke out angrily. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s customary for me to have some time alone with my patient,” Dr. Leeland said, finally sparing him a glance. “You can go take care of the bill while I speak with Julia.”
“She’s not your patient.”
Dr. Leeland shrugged. “She is today. As for the future, that’s up to her.”
“Whatever you have to say to her you can say in front of me,” he insisted.
“Mr. Covington, I need to ask my patient some questions. It’s standard procedure for these sorts of situations, and if you don’t leave, I will be forced to call for help.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said. “He can stay.”
“No.”
Bryce stood up, fists clenched. “You’ll be hearing from me about this, Doctor,” he said, and the venom in his voice shocked me. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
“Julia, you’re white as a ghost, are you okay?” Dr. Leeland’s brown eyes were concerned. “You should sit back down.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d stood up during the altercation between Bryce and Dr. Leeland. Well, it wasn’t so much an altercation as an argument, but I bet that nurse would have been extremely worried about my sky-high blood pressure now.
“Put your head between your knees,” Dr. Leeland instructed. The world had become sort of hazy, and the edges of my vision, at least in the eye that I could see out of, were fading. “Breathe, Julia.” She demonstrated breathing with me, and after a few minutes I was able to sit up.
“I’m sorry,” I laughed. “Just between this”—I indicated my face—“and that confrontation with Bryce . . . I don’t do well with confrontations.”
“I see,” Dr. Leeland said. She pursed her lips. “Julia, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.”
“Okay,” I said, already knowing I would have to lie. Bryce had, and so must I.
“How did you get that cut under your eye?”
My answer was immediate. “I ran into a cupboard. Bryce and I were cooking a celebratory dinner and he left one open. I wasn’t watching where I was going and ran right into it.”
She wasn’t convinced. “Are you afraid to go home with your husband?”
Yesterday I wouldn’t have hesitated, but today I paused, and the slight tightening of Dr. Leeland’s lips told me she noticed. “No, of course not,” I laughed. “I’m sure he’ll spoil me the rest of the day. He feels so awful about all of this.” More likely he wou
ld leave me to attend to my regular chores while he went to work.
Dr. Leeland shook her head and sighed. “I know you don’t know me, but I want you to know I’m here if you need anything, Julia.” She pulled a card out of her pocket. “This is a number for a local women’s shelter. If you ever feel like you need to get out, get to a safe place, you can call that number and someone will come and get you. Please keep it someplace safe, where your husband won’t find it.”
My initial reflex was to crumple the card and throw it away, tell this doctor to stay out of our family business. I was optimistic that I’d be able to talk with the Reverend and Nancy and solve this issue so it wouldn’t happen again. This version of Bryce wasn’t the real one. It was a Hulkified version brought on by stress.
Still, I nodded at her and tucked the card into my bra, where Bryce wouldn’t be looking anytime soon. It couldn’t hurt to have it on hand, and could be a good resource for women at the church who felt threatened.
Dr. Leeland walked me out to the waiting room, where Bryce was pacing. “I’ll call your prescriptions in to the pharmacy. They should be ready by the time you get there.”
“Thank you,” I said. Bryce glared at the doctor, took my arm, and dragged me out of the clinic. As we left, the staff at the front desk all wore identical masks of concern. I smiled to reassure them before the doors closed behind me.
* * *
—
As expected, Bryce dropped me off at home after we picked up my pills, and headed straight to work. My face ached, and the anesthetic around my stitches was starting to wear off, causing small stinging sensations. I took my pills and considered taking a nap, but I was too keyed up. I paced through the house, making my way up to my parlor and dropping the card Dr. Leeland had given me into the basket containing Bryce’s letters. More than ever, my curiosity about the woman whose handwriting I had grown familiar with burned through me, but I had more immediate concerns.
I replayed the events of the past twenty-four hours. I prayed for clarity, that God would help me to understand why my husband had switched personalities. He hadn’t been drinking. There was nothing out of control about him. In fact, it was eerie how calm and collected he was through the entire thing. The most agitated he had been was at the doctor’s office, when outsiders appeared to be meddling in our life.