Hidden Scars (13 page)

“Hey.” I laughed and plopped into a nearby chair. “What a nice surprise. I thought it might be Mom.”

“And you came to the phone? Why?”

Seconds passed. “I guess…because she’s our mom.”

“Some things never change. You think being our mom gives her the right to treat us like a dog, and you’re obligated to take it? The answer, dear sister, is no. Keep that in mind next time she calls, which I’m guessing could be tonight.”

A shiver ran through me. “Why do you say that?”

“I just got off the phone with her. I threatened to hang up if she didn’t stop screaming. She’s on a tear about you being in Greer and not coming by the house. You know the always present ‘what will the neighbor’s think’? Well, that’s the only reason you’re still at Midway. She’s afraid to pull you out before the semester’s over. People may think you flunked out. Or worse, you’re pregnant.”

I gripped the phone tighter and sprang to my feet. “She said that? She said people might think I’m pregnant?” The words spewed out in anger.

“Yep. You know how she is. Don’t let it get to you. But if I were you, I’d keep a low profile for a while. Stay out of Greer. She’s not likely to forget what you’ve done anytime soon. How’s Chuck doing by the way?”

My stomach quivered at the thought of the amount of pain he must be in. “He looks awful. But his worst injuries are a broken arm and cracked ribs. He’s at his mom’s. We haven’t had a chance to really talk about how all this will affect him—us, but it’ll cause some major changes.”

“What do you mean?”

Marsha was the one person—other than Chuck—whom I’d always trusted. “Chuck asked me to marry him.”

“Congratulations!” Marsha squealed two octaves higher than usual.

“Yeah, we found out we could get married in Alabama as soon as I turn eighteen. We had…” I blew out a breath of disappointment. “We had the date planned and everything.”

“Had? So, what’s the problem?”

“Don’t you see? The accident changes everything. I don’t have a clue how long it takes for cracked ribs and a broken arm to heal, but it’ll take more than a week. And by then, he’s supposed to be starting a new job here. Since Mr. Fisher’s already accepted his two weeks’ notice, Chuck could end up without a job altogether. And his mother…Ugh! She won’t even let me talk to him on the phone.”

“Chuck can handle his mother. Don’t let her keep you away from him, Morgan. And I’d think after all the years he’s worked for Mr. Fisher, the old coot would probably be more than happy to keep him employed. Broken bones or not.”

“True, but I feel so guilty. All the expenses Chuck never would’ve had if it wasn’t for me. A six-month lease for a house here that’ll have to be paid even if he stays in Greer. I’ve got to do something to help. Even if it means dropping out of Midway to get a job.”

“Are you crazy? And live where? Mom and Dad would drag your behind back home so fast. Don’t be stupid, Morgan. Promise me you’ll stay in college.”

“I’ll stay for now, but I
am
getting a job.”

“You’d better work on keeping your grades up. Are you passing everything?”

“I won’t make the Dean’s list, but surprisingly, I’m doing really well.”

“Then why not stay in school and get an education?” Marsha’s big sister’s voice of authority demanded.

“Majoring in music was Mom’s idea,” I responded in a huff, “not mine.”

“So change your major. People do it all the time. And, Morgan, make sure you’re marrying Chuck for the right reason. Don’t make the same mistake I did when I married Bob…just to get out of their house. Married life may not be all you’ve hoped for.”

“There’s a big difference between us, Marsha. I love Chuck.”

“Then I hope it works out. But remember, Mom’s threatening to pull you out of college in January. You’ll be eighteen before then, maybe married, but regardless, neither she nor Dad can legally force you to do anything. Meanwhile, don’t give Dad a reason to get his hands on you again.”

I shuddered. “I don’t plan on it.”

“Well, after hearing from Mom, I thought I’d better check on you. Take care.”

The next morning, I woke with a mission—find a job. After my last class, I put in an application at Eddie’s, at a nearby dime store, and two dress shops. Later that night, I sat in my room and scanned the Help Wanted page of the local newspaper. Most of the jobs were full-time positions. Much of what remained didn’t look promising.

Ann stuck her head in the door. “Chuck’s on the phone.”

I tossed paper in the air and bolted down the hall.

“Hello!” I panted, trying to catch my breath.

“Hey. Somebody chasing you?”

A big grin stretched my face. It was good to hear his voice. “Chuck,” I breathed his name, loving the feel of it on my lips. “I hoped you’d call tonight. How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been in a car wreck.”

I chuckled at his attempt to be his old self. “You must be feeling a little better. You weren’t making wisecracks in the hospital.”

“It’s hard to joke when you’re lying on a lumpy, plastic mattress while your ribs are screaming with each breath. I’ll make it though. The pain can’t last forever.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Blue Eyes. I’ll see you soon. Do you need anything?”

“Yeah, for you to get better. I love you.”

“Love you, too. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”

Chuck put up a good front, but he sounded weak and frequently stopped between words to take a shallow breath. I reminded myself that each day would bring him improvement and less pain.

And who knows, maybe tomorrow I’d find that perfect job.

Wednesday afternoon, I got my first break. Al’s Drug Store was hiring, and I sat waiting to talk to Al himself.

After thirty minutes, the number of people needing prescriptions filled dwindled. A short, stocky man in a white lab coat stepped from behind the pharmacy counter.

He walked up holding two white mugs with the smell of coffee wafting from them. “Hi, Morgan. I’m Allan Perkins.” He nodded toward the woman behind the counter I’d given my application to. “Betty tells me you’re going to Midway.” He handed me a cup. “You don’t look old enough to be going to college.”

“I’ll be eighteen next month.” To be polite, I took a sip of the nasty stuff.

“I’m looking for someone who can give me a few hours a day during the week—and all day on Saturdays. You’d be expected to tidy up the shelves, send out monthly bills, and keep the ledgers straight. Have you ever used a ten-key adding machine?”

“Yes, sir.” I didn’t lie. Janet and I had played with her dad’s a few times. We would time ourselves to see who could add the fastest without making any mistakes.

“The job pays a buck-fifteen an hour.”

“Sounds great.”

He took a few leisurely sips from his mug while he studied my face.

I squirmed worse than a two-year-old in Church on a hot August Sunday.
Say it. Please say it.
What could be taking him so long? He needed help, and I needed a job.

“I can start anytime.”

Al stood. “I better get back to work.” He drained his mug then nodded toward the front counter again. “Talk to Betty. You two work out some kind of schedule, but I’ll need you here this Saturday.”

Twenty-three hours a week. I’d have to work hard to prove myself, but math had been one of the few subjects where I excelled. I envisioned an adding machine and mentally moved my fingers to each invisible number. By Saturday, I was sure I’d look like I knew what I was doing.

A damp, dusty scent permeated the air. Wind blew my hair in every direction. Wrapped up in my success, I’d failed to notice the swirling clouds now obscuring the sun. I held my dress down to keep it from blowing up and sprinted the two blocks to the dorm. In my excitement, I could’ve run two more. I couldn’t wait to tell Chuck my news, but I wanted to tell him in person and see his surprised expression.

Saturday morning I woke as thunder shook the building.

“Not again.” I opened the curtains and gazed out at a torrential Mississippi downpour. The rain fell in sheets so thick I couldn’t see sky or ground. Without a raincoat or car, I had visions of a drenched dog. Then I remembered a plastic rain bonnet my grandmother had given me. I’d never worn the thing and promised myself I never would. But today, I’d humbly eat my words. After emptying my purse onto the bed, my fingers explored an inside pocket and retrieved the priceless item.

By ten after seven, I stood at the front door of the dorm tying the straps of the accordion creased, rain hat under my chin. The thing swallowed my head. After making sure no one was watching, I took the garbage bags I’d removed from the wastebasket and slipped them over each foot, shoe and all. Then used rubber bands to secure them.

With all the wind, my umbrella proved useless, and despite my efforts, I arrived at the drugstore with soaked feet.

Betty greeted me with a pleasant smile. “I hope it doesn’t keep this up all day. You can put your wet things back here.” She walked toward the backroom. “And then I’ll show you around.”

She never said a word about my plastic attire.

The tour took only minutes. Cleaning supplies were stored in the bathroom. A desk stood in the far corner of the musty oversized closet where I’d hung my coat and stashed my wet items. Boxes stacked halfway to the ceiling and covered all but a narrow path from the door to the desk. “This is the stockroom as well as your office. I hope you’re not claustrophobic,” she teased and opened the top desk drawer. “Here’s the ledger. When you’re not working on the books, you’ll clean and stock the shelves. If you have any questions, let me know.”

The hardest part of the bookkeeping task was trying to read Betty’s handwriting. Her letters and numbers slanted so badly, they were almost flat. I found if I turned the book to the left at an angle, her writing became almost readable.

Around noon, Mr. Perkins entered my closet-office. “I’m ordering hamburgers, what do you want on yours?”

I shook my head. “I’m not really hungry.” I’d enjoyed the work so much, I hadn’t thought about food. “Thank you though.”

“Nonsense, you’ve got to eat, and I’m buying. I don’t expect you to go out in this mess.” He raised his arm toward a windowless wall. “It’ll be easier on both of us if you tell me what you want.”

Something about his gray-blue eyes, framed by laugh-lines, calmed my spirit. “Okay. Make mine with everything but onions.”

He reached in his pocket and laid a nickel and a dime on my desk. “Buy yourself something to drink from the machine.”

“Thanks, Mr. Perkins, but you don’t have to—” He’d left.

By midafternoon, I finished dusting the third aisle of metal racks and wiping all the merchandise with a damp cloth. I started down the stepladder, when someone put a hand on my waist. Startled, I spun around and smacked into the person’s head with my elbow.

“Chuck! You scared me half to death. Did I hurt you?”

He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and held the side of his face. “I’m okay. It’s my fault. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I hopped off the ladder and pulled his hand away. Shades of yellows and greens resided where black and blue bruises had been a week ago. Puckered pink skin surrounded the stitches, but his lips were no longer swollen. His left arm rested in a sling. “I’m so sorry.” I wanted so badly to throw my arms around him and kiss him silly.

Chuck caught my hand with his good one. “I went by the dorm. Mrs. Henderson told me where to find you. What’s going on?”

I stood taller. “I got a job. Today’s my first day. I would’ve told you, but I wanted it to be a surprise.”

He didn’t smile. “Well, I’m surprised. Kyle and his date, Patty, are waiting in the car out front. It’s rained so much this week he couldn’t get in the fields, and I wanted to see you…what time do you get off?”

“Six.” I searched his eyes to catch a hint of his mood. Could he be angry? Maybe the blow to his head caused more pain than he was letting on.

“We’ll be back to get you then. I wish you’d discussed it with me first.”

We stared at each other in silence.

“We’ll talk tonight.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead before walking away.

This was not the reaction I envisioned. All the excitement and pride of my newfound job disappeared like air from a pinpricked balloon.

Not a single star shone. A fine mist of rain continued to fall. The dreary night did nothing to dispel my disappointment over Chuck’s reaction to my new job.

Kyle’s car lights flashed across the house as he and his date backed out of the driveway, leaving Chuck and me standing on the front porch. Chuck fumbled with his keys, unlocked the door, and then stepped aside for me to enter. My nervous stomach quivered. A feeling I’d never experienced with him.

“Are you hungry? I had Patty pick up a couple of frozen pot pies at the grocery earlier.”

“No.” I dropped my purse on a nearby chair. “I’ve kinda lost my appetite.” The words came out crisp and cold. We needed to talk, but I dreaded where this conversation might take us. We’d never had a serious argument. Never even came close. But tonight, for the first time in our relationship, Chuck had hurt and embarrassed me.

When Kyle and Patty rushed off to the movies, I was sure they’d been asked to give us time to work out our differences. My face burned hot thinking about Chuck sharing his disappointment in me. Maybe I should have discussed my job with him, but that was no excuse.

“I’ve missed you.” He walked over and gently touched my face, then bent and pressed his lips to mine.

My emotions were being pulled like taffy. I loved Chuck more than words could describe. He’d never been anything but respectful, loving, and understanding, but could he have a darker side I’d yet to see?

“You look tired.” He brushed strands of hair from my forehead. “Why don’t you rest before we worry about supper?” He laced his fingers with mine and led me to the sofa.

Someone once told me that making up after a fight was nice. From my experience, I saw no truth in that statement. How could there be any sense of enjoyment after hurting someone you love?
God,
please
help me control my tongue.