Heart Of Marley (32 page)

Brianna giggled. “He’s been saving for those for about four months.”

“He didn’t have to do this for me.”

“No. He didn’t. But he did. Doesn’t that make you feel good?”

I nodded. “It makes me feel better than good.”

“You are one lucky girl, Marley,” Liz said, staring over my shoulder at the earrings. “I need to find my own Doug. Does he have any brothers that are about fifteen years older?”

“No. He’s the youngest, but his oldest brother is only twenty-three.”

“Damn… Oh, well. I’ll just keep looking.”

I took the earrings out of the box and placed them in my ears, the light from the salon reflecting in the gorgeous stones. “I have a feeling this will be my best birthday yet.”

Brianna reached over from her chair and grabbed my hand. “I think so, too.”

Several hours later, I was finally primped and looking like a proper beauty queen.

“What do you have in your ears?” my aunt demanded as I walked to the front of the salon, ready to head to the country club where the pageant would be held.

“Earrings,” I responded sheepishly. “Doug sent them to me with these flowers,” I said, gesturing to the breathtaking arrangement of red roses…eighteen red roses for eighteen years. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“Those do not go with your evening gown or your swimsuit, Marley. You can’t wear them.”

“But I just got them.”

“Does it look like I care? You can wear them tomorrow and every day after. Today, you need to wear the jewelry that I picked out and spent money on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered. There was no way in hell I was ever going to take these earrings out of my ears. She would have to pry them from my cold, lifeless body.

I climbed into her car and we drove in silence the entire way to the country club, nervous energy starting to flow through me when we pulled into the parking lot. Grabbing my stuff, we made our way into the palatial building, every inch of it decorated with the signature white and yellow flowers for which the pageant was named.

“The green room is this way,” she said, leading me to a spacious room that they had set up into a makeshift dressing and changing area, complete with snacks and beverages for us. She helped me unpack my things and hang up the dresses I had brought with me.

My stomach growling, I excused myself and began to make a sandwich.

“What are you doing?” my aunt asked just as I was about to take a bite.

“Eating.”

She ripped the sandwich out of my hand and tossed it into the garbage. “You can eat after the pageant. I don’t need to listen to all my friends telling me how much weight my niece has gained. I have to go meet with the rest of the judging committee. Do you think you’ll be able to resist stuffing your face for the next few hours?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you have my jaw wired shut so I don’t have an option?”

“Don’t get smart with me, Marley. This is important to me.”

I sighed. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll resist the temptation of turning into a fat cow so you can save face in front of your friends.”

Her fierce eyes turned sincere and she sat down next to me. “Marley,” she started, placing her hand on my arm in a show of feigned compassion, “I’m only doing this because I care about you. I just want you to be happy. I loved doing these pageants when I was your age. You always talk about wanting to be normal. Well, look around you. All your friends love doing this. This
is
normal.”

Reminding myself of what I had planned for that day, I gave my aunt the most reassuring smile I could muster. “I know. I’m sorry. My blood sugar is just low.”

“Have a carrot. I’ll be back before the swimsuit competition to help you.” She stood up and left the dressing room. My blood boiling, I turned my attention back to the catering table and grabbed the most fattening item I could find…cheese and butter crackers.

The next several hours passed in a frenzy of hair spray, glitter, and sequins as all twelve of us prepared for the opening act of this display of sexism…I mean, feminism. I sat in front of my vanity, staring at the mirror compact on the counter, trying to resist the urge to go to the restroom. It was taking all my resolve to not grab that razor. The only thing dulling the pain was the fact that after today, I would never have to be subjected to this carnival again. I needed Doug at that moment. I kept looking at my wrist and ears at the jewelry he had bought me that I still wore, regardless of my aunt’s demands that I put on her pre-approved accessories. I focused on my wrist, willing the circle of hope, love, and devotion that hung on me to work the magic it had in the past.

But I’d never had to put myself on display like I was about to. Grabbing the compact, I glanced at Brianna on my right. “I’ll be back. I need to pee.”

She looked up from her sketchpad, her outlet for relieving the stress, and said, “Okay.”

Just then, the door opened and the stout man that had been working on this as the stage manager entered the room. “Five minutes until curtain. Places, ladies.”

Groaning, I placed the compact back on my vanity, hoping I’d have a break after the opening song and dance number to do what I needed to do.

“Ready?” Brianna asked, standing up from her chair.

“Let’s get this over with.”

She grabbed my hand and we headed to the elaborate theater. The stage manager made his way down the line, clipping mics to us. We looked like cookie cutter molds, all of us wearing the same black dress with a sequin belt.
Conformity at its finest
, I said to myself.

“Sixty seconds,” the stage manager called and we all took our places behind the curtain.

Looking at Brianna, she nodded and we both plastered on the fake smile that was expected of us. The curtain opened and, like the puppets we all were, we broke into the routine that we had rehearsed over and over again during the past several weeks when pageant duties had a higher priority than school work. Scanning the audience, I found Doug’s brilliant eyes as he sat next to Cam, and I felt at ease. I felt the peace that I had been needing to feel all day.

Finishing the opening number, we all scurried off the stage and into the dressing room to put on one of our formal gowns for the official introduction. The sound of twelve pairs of heels echoed down the hallway and we attempted to change as quickly as possible. Within a few minutes, we were all dressed and making our way back to the stage, where they would bring us out one at a time to introduce us. I had the unfortunate position of being last. Then again, that would ensure that everyone in attendance would have to listen to what I had to say.

As each of the twelve girls were called to the stage and introduced, most of them replied with some bullshit charity that they wanted to bring attention to during their reign as Miss Jessamine. My aunt told me that my cause would be shoreline preservation. So she wouldn’t catch on, I even memorized the words that she ordered me to regurgitate. Over the past few weeks, however, I worked on a completely different speech with the help of Mr. Monroe, who had become my unexpected ally.

I focused on my breathing as I heard Mr. Grayson call name after name. I felt a nudge on my shoulder and the stage manager gestured to me. “You’re up.”

I nodded and made my way from the wings and onto the stage, the bright lights making me feel so small, every eye focused on me.

“And our final contestant is Miss Marley Jane Bowen,” Mr. Grayson’s gentle voice said. I walked to where he stood, dressed in his tuxedo. “Marley will be attending the University of South Carolina this fall where she hopes to major in psychology.”

My eyes remained fixed on my aunt as Mr. Grayson continued to read what was on the cue cards that I had given him. She pursed her lips in annoyance and I smiled at her reaction.

“Well, Marley. I wish you all the luck.”

“Thank you,” I said into the microphone.

“If chosen as Miss Jessamine, what cause would you be working toward during your reign?”

“As we all know,” I began, my aunt relaxing in her chair at the opening words of the speech she had coached me on, “pollution has caused our shoreline to erode farther and farther each year.” I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. “But that’s not what I plan on bringing attention to.” My gaze met Mr. Monroe’s and he nodded slightly. “I would, instead, like to bring attention to the importance that child victims of abuse receive the help they need, whether it be counseling or intensive therapy. It’s a cause very near and dear to my heart. When I was eight…”

My aunt jumped up and grabbed the microphone in front of her chair. “Okay. That’s time.”

I looked at the timer on the front of the judge’s table. “I still have ninety seconds.”

“Go on, Marley,” Mr. Grayson said, giving me an encouraging smile.

“Thank you.” I turned back to the audience, their curious eyes glued to me. “When I was eight, I was molested. I never received the treatment I needed. I’m still dealing with my past, but I’ve finally started to shed it. If society didn’t place such a stigma on therapy, maybe I would have moved past my self-destructive tendencies earlier. If I win, I will work tirelessly to ensure that anyone who has been a victim of any type of abuse realizes that seeking professional psychiatric help is not a bad thing. Thank you.”

Mr. Grayson turned and looked at me with more compassion than I had ever seen in his eyes. “Thank you for sharing your story, Marley. I know this must have been difficult for you. You’re a strong girl. Ladies and gentlemen, Marley Jane Bowen.”

I felt a unique sensation of relief as I took my place amongst my fellow contestants, their mouths open in shock…except for Brianna. She had a look of vindication on her face. It mirrored the way I felt. And this was just the beginning.

After the introductions, we all left the stage and made our way back to the green room. I expected my aunt to come storming in, fuming, but she didn’t. Instead, girls I went to high school with, but barely knew, came up to me and hugged me, thanking me for giving them a voice. It went on and on, and I didn’t know what to make of it. As I was about to change into the dress that I would be wearing for the talent portion, I was met by Kristen’s and Carla’s tear-filled eyes.

“Marley,” Carla cried, both girls wrapping their arms around me. “We’re so sorry. We had no idea.”

“It’s okay, girls. No one really knew. I wasn’t allowed to say anything, but I’m changing that.”

They pulled out of the hug and wiped their cheeks before breaking down and crying again.

“My mom didn’t want me to see a shrink, either,” Kristen admitted through her tears.

“Wait. What? For what?” I asked, looking at her.

“My dad used to beat my mama. And me. And my brothers. After she filed for divorce, it was never talked about again. I always felt so worthless. And I think that’s why I sleep with any guy that will have me. I hate the idea of rejection.”

I placed my hand on her arm in understanding, a revelation washing over me. Because I was able to talk about my past, these girls were sharing the ghosts that they had been forced to forget. I wanted more of this. I had originally said I would major in psychology just to get a rise out of my aunt. Now, as I stood there, tears flowing down more faces than not, I knew what I would spend the rest of my life doing. I was going to help girls find their voices.

The stage manager came in to hurry us along in getting ready, and Carla and Kristen left to go change. I pulled on my long, black sequined gown that I would be wearing for the talent portion, wondering if my aunt would attempt to cut my performance short.

After an excruciatingly long time, I was called to the stage and heard Mr. Grayson announcing my name, saying that I would be performing a song from
The Phantom of the Opera
. I walked out to enthusiastic applause and approached the microphone at center stage.

“Thank you for the introduction, Mr. Grayson, but I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to do a song titled
Silent All These Years
by Tori Amos.” I looked to the accompanist sitting behind the grand piano, whom I had worked with on my new song choice. He nodded and began playing the opening notes, my eyes glued on my aunt’s. I wanted to laugh at the look of indignation on her face.

Standing in front of that crowd, I felt a huge weight lift off my chest. I normally hated being on public display for everyone to judge, pretending to be a fake version of myself, but that all changed. I was making a stand. I was finally able to be the real Marley Jane Bowen. Meeting Mr. Monroe’s eyes, I could tell that he saw it, too. His words the first day of school, wondering who the real Marley Jane Bowen was, echoed in my mind, and it was because of him that I finally realized who she was.

I finished my talent portion to resounding applause, most of the judges standing in ovation…except for my aunt, naturally. I met Doug’s eyes, and I could see the pain he felt for what I had been through. But in the pain, I saw my hope…my future.

I hustled off the stage, knowing that the swimsuit portion would be next and my aunt would be furious with me. Approaching the green room, a hand grabbed my arm and I was forced to look into my aunt’s irate eyes.

“What they hell are you doing? Are you trying to make sure that no one votes for you? Are you trying to make me the laughing stock amongst my friends?”

“No,” I answered calmly. “I’m just finally moving on from my past. I’m no longer going to pretend what happened to me was something I should be ashamed of. It has turned me into the woman I am, and I’m proud of who that is.”

“Well, I’m not. This is ridiculous, Marley. After everything I’ve done for you…”

“What?!” I asked, my voice growing loud. “That you paraded me around so you could be buddies with all your high school friends again? So you could shove that I won in their faces? Oh wait. No, that’s not right. That
you
won? I’m eighteen, but you’ve forgotten that today’s my birthday. I’m an adult and I plan on making my own decisions, starting with speaking about my past in the hopes that it encourages other girls who have gone through the same thing to feel like they’re not alone. I felt like that for years! I felt there must be something wrong with me because of what happened. And the worst part of it?! I thought it was
my
fault! Not my mama’s! Not the sick fuck who had to get his rocks off with a little girl! Mine! And
you
made me feel that way! I’m thankful for you and Uncle Graham giving Cam and me a home, making sure we stayed together, but your obsession with these pageants has done more harm than good.” I spun on my heels and ran into the green room.