Outside (20 page)

I sink into the chair and chew my lip as Ms. Jackson reads the letter with raised eyebrows. She’s going to think I’m a whore after she reads about how I physically engaged with a sinner boy. The way Mother’s letter words it, though, it sounds like there has been more than one boy.

Ms. Jackson puts the letter down, draws in a deep breath, and looks up at me. “Have you seen her? Has she shown up anywhere and tried to speak with you?”

“She called this afternoon,” I say, glancing at Beth.

“She called Alaina’s cellphone,” Beth clarifies.

Ms. Jackson nods. “And you didn’t give her the number?”

I shake my head.

“What did she say?”

Glancing at Beth, I turn back to Ms. Jackson. “She told me I wasn’t allowed to see Adam anymore.”

Ms. Jackson tilts her head. “And Adam is…?”

“A friend,” Beth says, and I’m grateful not to have to answer. “He’s been helping her adjust.”

She sighs. “Well this all took a turn, didn’t it?” She leans forward, resting her elbows on her desk. “You know, I’ve spoken to Leah almost every day. She’s made great strides to do the things the court has asked of her. She has a job and is renting a room while she saves for an apartment.” Ms. Jackson shakes her head sadly. “She had me fooled. I asked her, point blank, this morning if she’d been trying to contact you. She said no.”

“She lied,” I say.

Beth leans forward in her chair. “She was here this morning? In your office?”

Ms. Jackson nods. “Came in to drop off some cinnamon rolls.” She gestures to the white and tan box with the blue Cinnabon ribbon on the lid sitting on the corner of her desk.

Beth’s eyebrow quirks up. “Is it possible she got Alaina’s number from your files? Maybe when you weren’t looking?”

Ms. Jackson opens her mouth and then closes it, frowning at her desk, piled high with folders and stacks of papers.

How would Mother even find the right file in this mess?

“It’s possible,” Ms. Jackson finally admits, her eyes sliding to a plain folder with ROBERTS written across the top edge in bold, black letters. “I did step out for a moment to get us each a cup of coffee.”

Beth sits back in her chair and draws in a deep breath while Ms. Jackson starts straightening her desk.

“So what do we do now?” Beth asks.

Ms. Jackson stacks papers, refusing to meet Beth’s eye. “If you file a protection order on Alaina’s behalf, the next time Leah contacts her, you can call the police to deal with it.” She looks up. “It will complicate things for her as far as winning back custody.” Her eyes shift to me. “She’ll be served with papers and the rules of the order will be explained. A judge will review the order in thirty days and you’ll have an opportunity to continue it, or drop it. And during that time, you won’t be permitted to visit with your mother at all. No contact.”

I nod.

Beth turns to me. “Are you okay with all of that?”

My eyes drop to my lap and I twist my fingers anxiously.
Am
I okay with this? I don’t want to cause trouble for Mother. I don’t want her to think I don’t love her. I don’t want her to be mad at me. She’ll see it as a betrayal. She’ll see it as me choosing a side and turning my back on her.

But Beth was right when she said Mother seems strange. Claiming to be a prophetess is something she would have been flogged for in Shiloh. Possibly even shunned. And I can’t ignore her threat of exorcism or the fact that she followed me to the movie theater and most likely has followed me other places.

“I think…” I swallow with difficult, my throat suddenly dry. Looking up at Ms. Jackson, I tell her the truth. “She scares me.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ALAINA

Everywhere I look, I think I see Mother. It’s been two days since Beth filed the protection order. Holly talked me into coming to see a movie with her and Jacki as a distraction, but it isn’t working.

Standing in line for popcorn, a woman emerges from the nearby bathroom wearing a long black skirt and white top. My blood runs cold and my lungs constrict until I realize it’s not her. This woman’s hair is shorter and she’s much older than Mother. She smiles and greets a bald man leaning against the wall and they walk, hand-in-hand, toward the exit.

“Alaina, you okay?” Jacki nudges me.

“Fine,” I say, still watching the woman.

The movie we see is nothing like the one I watched with Adam. This one is about people attending college. Holly calls it a “Zac Efron movie,” but I can’t figure out what that means. I can barely follow what’s happening in the story because I keep having to look away when they show inappropriate things. Holly and Jacki laugh through the whole thing, but I’m at a loss as to what’s so funny.

Afterward, Holly insists that we get cinnamon rolls. I take a seat at an open table in the food court while the two of them head over to Cinnabon. I’m on alert as I sit there, my eyes moving constantly, scanning the crowds that walk by for signs of Mother.

It doesn’t take long for Holly and Jacki to return with oversized cinnamon rolls, smothered in icing. Holly glances at me nervously as she takes her seat.

“What is it?” I ask.

She exchanges a look with Jacki. “Did you know your mom works at Cinnbon?”

My blood instantly runs hot and then cold. “No.” My stomach knots and everything muscle in my body coils, ready to jump up from the table and run for the exit.

“She’d look just like Beth if it weren’t for that dirty-ass look she kept giving us,” Jacki says, taking a seat across from me.

Holly cautiously slides a cinnamon roll in front of me. “Seriously, she was super rude. We didn’t even do anything!”

Jacki snorts. “Maybe she recognized you. Guilty by association or something.”

I crane my neck to see if I can catch a glimpse of her, but the food court is too crowded. She’s probably watching me right now. My skin prickles at the thought and sweat beads up on my forehead and neck.

“We should have told her manager,” Jacki continues. “She’s gonna run customers off acting like that.” She twists around in her seat and then gets up, holding her cinnamon roll. “I’m gonna do it,” she says. “I’m gonna complain.”

Holly sighs. “Leave it alone, Jacki.” She pinches off a piece of her roll and pops it into her mouth.

Jacki shakes her head. “No. She don’t even know me. She had no reason to treat me like that.” She takes off, disappearing into the crowd.

Holly turns to me and rolls her eyes. “So dramatic,” she says around her bite of cinnamon roll.

I eye my own cinnamon roll. Mother might have made this cinnamon roll. Did she know it was for me? My heart pounds so hard, my eyes throb, blurring my vision. I can’t eat this. Not with her so near.

“So what’d you think of the movie?” Holly asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

My head jerks up and I scan the crowd, expecting Mother to barge through at any moment to deliver some kind of punishment. “It was…different.”

“What’s up with you? You’ve been weird all day.” She licks her fingers and glances around like she’s missing something.

Shrugging, I shift in my seat. “I kept thinking I saw Mother earlier. And now that I know she’s here…” I trail off.

“Paranoid much? You took out a restraining order. She’d be an idiot to get anywhere near you.” Holly smacks her lips and grimaces. “I should’ve got a drink.” Instead of waiting for me to respond, she gets up from the table and heads off toward Cinnabon again.

If only it were that easy. Holly doesn’t know Mother, though. I want her to be right. I want Mother to come to her senses and stop with this prophetess nonsense. Sadly, I don’t think a piece of paper and a warning from people Mother believes to be beneath her is enough to keep her away. The thought alone is enough to send me running for the door, but with no way to get home, I’m stuck waiting on Holly and Jacki to come back so I can ask to leave. I push the roll away from me and continue to watch for Mother.

Holly and Jacki return a few minutes later. Jacki is carrying a large box, similar to the one Ms. Jackson had on her desk, and Holly has a bucket-sized drink in her hand.

“We got all this for free! Want some?” Holly holds her cup out to me.

I shake my head. “No thank you. I’d actually like to leave, if you don’t mind. I’m not feeling well.”

Holly shrugs and takes a long drink. “Alright.”

Adam texts me on the way home.

Come hang out with me tonight.

It’s Dad and Christine’s anniversary

and they’re making us have family dinner.

“Ugh,” Holly moans as she turns onto our street. “I shouldn’t have eaten so much.” She holds her stomach and winces. Her face is pale and I wonder if maybe she has a sugar hangover like I did after the first night I spent time with Adam.

“You should take some of that pink stuff Beth has for stomach trouble. It helps,” I say as I text Adam back:
Am I invited?

I’m inviting you. Pick you up in an hour.

I smile at my phone as Holly pulls into the driveway. “’Laina,” she moans before throwing up on herself.

Eyes wide, I stare at her, unsure of what I’m supposed to do.

She slumps forward, her head hitting the steering wheel and vomits again. “Get mom,” she wheezes.

“Right.” I scramble to unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car. I hear her continue to wretch as I hurry toward the front door. Definitely not a sugar hangover.

“Beth!” I call when I get into the house. “Beth! There’s something wrong with Holly!”

Moments later, Beth appears on the stairs moving so fast I don’t think her feet actually touch the steps. “Where is she?”

“In the car. She’s sick!”

Like a blur, she moves past me, outside. I stand in the hallway clenching and unclenching my hands. Am I supposed to go out there? Or stay out of the way?

Before I make a decision, Beth reappears, dashing into her office to grab her purse and keys. “I’m taking Holly to the hospital. Keep your phone on.” She’s already pulling the front door shut before I can answer.

I pace around the living room for a few minutes feeling guilty, but I’m not sure why.

Pulling out my phone, I text Jacki and ask if she’s feeling okay. After all, she ate those cinnamon rolls too.

Fine. Why?

I text back:
Holly’s really sick. Beth took her to the hospital.

While I’m waiting for Jacki to respond, I text Adam and let him know I probably can’t come over since Holly is sick and in the hospital.

He responds almost immediately:
I’ll be right there.

After that I exchange a few more texts with Jacki and explain exactly what happened. As I’m typing out a message, the doorbell rings.

I rush to the door and throw it open. “That was fast,” I say, tapping ‘send’ before looking up from my phone. When I do, I’m not looking into Adam’s amazing blue eyes. I’m looking at Mother.

“Hello, Alaina,” she says, stepping into the house.

I back up, unable to speak. My mouth goes dry and all the air goes out of my lungs as I back into a wall. “You can’t be here,” I whisper.

She smiles. “But I am here. And now we can address your transgressions without any interruptions.” She takes another step toward me.

Realization sets in and I swallow. “Did you do something to Holly?” I whisper.

Mother raises her hand and slaps me hard across the face. “Do not speak out of turn.”

My cheek stings and I touch it gently with my fingers. In Shiloh, I would have shrank back, cowered, and done anything she asked of me to avoid another slap. We’re not in Shiloh now, though. “You can’t be here,” I say again. “You have to leave, Mother.” I do my best to sound sure of myself, even standing straighter and lifting my chin, clutching my phone in my hand.

Her jaw clenches. “Defiance is an undesirable quality in a woman of Lord.” She raises her hand again and this time I duck out of the way, sprinting into the living room.

“You can’t do this!” I shout, lifting my phone to call Beth. Before I can dial, I’m knocked to the side by a hard blow to my head. I stumble and fall, hitting the corner of the coffee table on the way down. My vision blurs and something warm trickles down my face as I lay on the rug. Rolling onto my back, I find Mother standing over me, her eyes wild.

“You will come with me,” she says, reaching down and yanking me up by my arm.

I struggle to regain my footing and shove her back, pulling my arm from her grasp. “No!” I’m woozy as I rush into the kitchen. I nearly make it to the back door when a sharp shove from behind sends me sprawling into the kitchen table. It topples over with a crash and I go down hard with it.

CHAPTER TWENTY

ADAM

This is one way to get out of eating Christine’s nightmare cooking, I guess.

It had to have been pretty serious if Beth took Holly to the hospital. I just hope it’s not contagious.