Unto These Hills (15 page)

“I’ll tell you later.” I squeezed his hand and rushed to the side screened-in veranda, where Daisy pointed me. It afforded a little more privacy than the front porch, which now rustled with early arrivals tarrying for the five o’clock supper hour.

Timmy forfeited his seat to me, beside Sheila in the porch swing whose chains fastened onto ceiling hooks. I watched him saunter back through the door to the lobby, which led to the front porch where he’d join Daniel in one of the big rocking chairs. As one, Sheila and I set the swing in motion.

Sheila snuffled. Her eyes were swollen nearly shut, her pretty features puffy and red. Slender hands lay in her lap, against tanned legs, where berry-tipped fingers danced their bizarre little dance of misery and desperation.

“Ahh, honey,” I slid my arm around her shoulder and hugged her to me. “I’m so sorry you got hurt. I wish Francine hadn’t said what she did. But you know how she is when she gets mad and what you said about Tack sent her over the edge.”

“
Huh
.” Sheila crossed her bronzed arms and stuck out her chin, her foot sending the swing into a less sedate cadence. “She’s said lots more than you know about,
before
I told on Tack.”

“Did Tack really come on to you?” I asked softly.

“
Huh.
” She propelled the swing faster. “What do
you
think?”

“Did he?”

My foot halted the swing. Sheila grew still, her fingers resuming their dance. She watched them. “We-ell. He didn’t exactly
come on
to me. More like teased.”

“Sheila, it’s wrong of you to tell Francine Tack did all those things when he didn’t.”
Who am I to talk
? I could’ve slithered through the floor cracks.

Her head swung around and our gazes connected. “Sunny, she’s always a’tellin’ me how ugly I am and how I’ve got funny feet and a big fanny. She tells me how stupid I am and what a big liar I am. But worst of all,” her tormented green eyes probed mine, “is how she reminds me I’m not really full family. Just
half.”
She looked away, drooping with desolation.

“I hate ‘er, Sunny. She’s
mean
and spiteful and always talkin’ ‘bout how she’s gonna be the one in the family to get rich. Ol’ Tack’s gonna be her meal ticket to paradise, to hear her tell it. The rest of us are gonna be settin’ round bare-footed, half-starved and on welfare. Thinks she’s so much smarter.
Above
the rest of us.” The swing started again.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Sheila. You’re as much family as any of us. Heck, with Mama’s track record, who knows for certain who fathered
any
one of us?” That seemed to calm her some. “And honey, you’re not ugly.” I had to laugh at the absurdity of it.

“
Lord have mercy
, you’re so beautiful you hurt my eyes. Everybody says so. And your feet are cute. Nobody’s toes are perfect. They’re like ears. Start lookin’ at ears and you’ll see what I mean. I think Francine’s jealous of you, for some crazy reason. But you play right into her hands, Sheila, by saying outlandish things to get her attention and shock her. And when you brought Tack into it, well —”

“Tack
did
flirt with me.” Her stubborn little chin projected itself again.

I opened my mouth to ask her to define flirting, as well as why she felt it necessary to tell Francine about it. Then I clamped it shut. Sheila, in her own way, obsessed as badly as Francine with being
out front.

“Sure,” I muttered, allowing her the last word, hoping it may compensate, in small measure, for Francine’s cruel words, words I’d had no idea she used to hurt Sheila.

We continued to swing silently, my arm draped over her shoulder. I was thinking what a contradiction my little sis posed, with her razor-sharp tongue and waif-vulnerability, when I spotted Dr. Worley mounting the front steps, no doubt planning to take supper in the hotel dining room. For a moment, I smiled at the warmth his familiar face triggered.

Until I saw him veer over toward Daniel’s rocking chair, hand outstretched in greeting.
Oh God! No. He thinks the baby is Daniel’s.

My heart stopped. My life stopped.

And as clear as day, I came face to face with the reality of something I’d heard all my days: …y
ou can be sure your sins will find you out.

~~~~~

I waited for Daniel in the swing, dying a thousand deaths each time I inhaled. Sheila had gone home, trailed by Timmy. My heart raced like my sewing machine needle as I sat there, sweat soaking my arm pits and sheening my face. It was like standing on Hell’s brink, knowing Lucifer would, any second, shove me over the edge. I stared into the flaming abyss, aware that I deserved every terror known to mankind.

When Daniel finally pushed open the veranda’s screen door, his steps sloughed an entrance. At first, he didn’t look at me. His features drooped with shock.
Oh god
. My swing stopped dead. I couldn’t bear it.

“Daniel,” I whispered. He slowly lifted his head until his eyes connected with mine. Behind them glimmered hurt, disbelief, then slowly, anger.

“Sit with me, Daniel. We need to talk.” I couldn’t believe my voice was as steady as it was, what with all the chaotic thoughts and emotions flailing about inside me. Shock. That’s what it was. He didn’t sit beside me, instead he deliberately plopped heavily into a rocker facing me, a safe four-feet away. That stung. Dreadfully. But I had to get through this, somehow. Make him see….

“Yeh,” he muttered, shaking his head as if to dispel something slimy and clingy that’d attached itself to his ears. He looked off into the distance, at nothing, his gaze seemingly riveted to horrific atrocities. “Talk.” His voice sounded flat. Dead. “We need to talk.” Then his eyes met mine again. They suddenly blazed. “Okay, Sunny,” he muttered though clenched teeth. “
Talk.”

“What did Dr. Worley say to you?” A pitifully irrational part of me still, incredibly, hoped he hadn’t divulged everything.

“You’re pregnant.” Disbelief washed over his face. He blinked it away. “How? Whose is it Sunny? It can’t be mine. We didn’t — not till this very week.” He looked away, features again tight, near bursting. “I can’t believe it.” Hands flashed through dark hair. “Dear God. I
can’t stand this.”
His head rolled back, features grimaced in agony
.

I recoiled. “Daniel. I was
raped.” There.
I’d said it.

The turquoise gaze slashed to me. “Raped? God! This gets worse.” He stalked away, pivoted, then returned, nearly nose to nose with me, hands planted on hips.

“When?”

“The night after you left.”

“Why didn’t tell me?” His voice was a lethal whisper.

“How could I?” My voice was a wimpy whisper. Sweet Jesus. It all sounded so contrived.

“I called.”

“I — I tried. I just couldn’t find the right time to —”

“The
right
time?” The eyes blazed again then turned deadly. “Right time.” His lip curled up on one side, his eyes remained icy. “Who? Who was it?”

“I don’t know. I — I was at Doretha’s house, in her bed, the night Tom Stone was in the hospital with a heart attack. Somebody broke in, through the window.” God, it took such effort to speak. “It happened through the night.” I burst into tears, reliving the goshawfulness of it. Daniel didn’t move an eyelash. I realized he was in shock as much as I. “I’m sorry,” I whispered and wiped my face with my forearm. “I never saw him.”

“Never saw him?” Daniel sounded skeptical. My heart began to break.

“No.” Sobs gathered in my chest, throat. I took a deep breath, held it, and blew it out. “ He covered my face with a pillow.”

“You didn’t hear his voice?” Again. Doubt.

“No, Daniel, I didn’t hear his voice.” My words came out sharper than I intended. I checked myself. After all, Daniel was hearing this for the first time while I’d learned to live with it to some degree.

He dropped heavily into the seat opposite me and hooked an ankle over his knee , belying the tension I sensed coiled in him like a livid cobra. “Don’t you have any idea who it could be?” Suddenly, he seemed so laid-back it threw me. Then it dawned on me that he’d become analytical. Was that good or bad? My hands began to tremble in earnest. I clasped them tightly together.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” I said, trying in vain to keep the tremor from my voice. “I’ve suspected Harly Kale and —”

He was on his feet. “Why the hell Harly Kale?” His hands knotted into fists.

Gladys. Oh my god.
“He’s just —” I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. My head still spun like whirly-bird wings and I grasped at the first thing that lit in my brain. “Gladys once told me to stay away from him because she didn’t trust him. A-and Ruth Bond told me he’d raped her.” I didn’t want to say he’d actually come on to me that day when Gladys wasn’t home. It was too inflammatory just then. I think in the very back of my addled mind was the strong motive to protect Gladys.

However, I had my own boat to row at that precise moment.

Mentioning Ruth’s name earned me zero points. His features turned even more grim as he moved to stand gazing through the screen into dusk. “You said there was another possibility.”

I hesitated, recoiling from further revelations. But heck, I’d already dumped tons of garbage on him. “I wouldn’t put it past Buck Edmonds.” I dropped my gaze to where my hands lay, icy and numb, against my lap.

His head snapped around. The glacier gaze pinned me. “Why?” Where was his compassion? His questions were so devoid of sympathy I despaired. My heart dropped lower.

“He’s come on to me at times. I always pushed him away and —”

He spun around and advanced a few steps, stopping far enough away to establish
untouchable
distance. “
Always
? My god, Sunny, how many times
did
he
come on
to you? Why’ve I never heard any of this before?
Huh?”
He succinctly turned his back and strode away to the far screen to glare out.

“I didn’t want you to be upset,” I murmured, realizing how lame that sounded, even to my own ears. “Besides, there’s nothing I can prove about either Harly or Buck.” I opened my mouth to mention Mr. Melton then closed it. I couldn’t, even under these circumstances, hurt Emaline. Anyway, I sensed that including him wouldn’t strengthen my appeal to Daniel. Would, in fact, be detrimental. “You don’t believe me, do you Daniel?” My words came out hoarse and whispery. This silent Daniel terrified me — this condemning person who wouldn’t come within a three-foot distance of me.

He remained silent for so long I thought he didn’t hear me. Then he turned and I felt his gaze on me. Dusk painted his face dim and his features nearly indistinguishable.

“When were you going to tell me, Sunny? Or were you just going to let me believe it was mine? Was that what that was all about last night when we —”

“No!” I sprang to my feet and rushed to him. He recoiled from my touch, shrank from my reach. I let my hands drop, turned and retraced my steps. I sank back into the swing and sighed heavily, feeling everything was surreal. I tried to dredge up anything hopeful in the situation. I couldn’t. Yet — in one sense, it was a relief to have the truth out in the open.

I just hadn’t counted on it being this way.

“Please, Daniel, sit down. It’s hard to talk to your back and with you standing so far away. I don’t want to talk so loud the world will hear. It’s certainly not something I’m proud of.”

Like some automated apparition, he returned and seated himself in the rocker.

“I owe you nothing less than the whole truth, Daniel,” I said, finally meaning it. “I’ll admit that I grew desperate enough to deceive you. I won’t deny that. I didn’t want to lose you. Can’t you understand that?”

He didn’t say anything. Just sat there, hands clasped across his torso, rocking slowly, watching me as though I were some daggum stranger.

“Anyway,” I swallowed a lump and continued, “I realized I couldn’t do that to you. I was gon’ tell you tonight, whatever the outcome.”

He remained silent, the turquoise gaze I’d found so exciting now scared me spitless. Minutes passed. He’d resumed staring into the gathering darkness while I sat there, heart-in-hand as he weighed my —
our
future. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” I finally blurted, unable to endure the foreboding any longer.

Still long moments passed before he stood and paced to the veranda’s far corner and back, where he halted before me. Nearer this time. My heart dared to hope. I gazed at him expectantly.
Please, God….

“I wish I could believe you, Sunny. But I just can’t. It’s too much…the men you’ve — I won’t say ‘dallied’ with but there you have it. And the fact that you let me make love to you while pregnant with another man’s child blows me away. Just crushes me. If you’d just told me….” He ran his hands through his hair and then planted them on his hips as he rolled back his head.

“No, Daniel,” I said, struggling to my feet. Awareness and nuance weighted and numbed me. “It wouldn’t have made a bit of difference. You’re just not a forgiving person.” I shrugged, feeling as dead as his eyes when they lowered to meet mine. “Maybe you can’t help it. I don’t know. All I know is that I’ll let you go if that’s what you want. I do love you — more than ever, in fact. All this has made me realize how very much you mean to me.”

I halted, swallowing back sobs. “I’d hoped we could go on together. I know that there’s nothing that could make me turn my back on you because….” I began to cry quietly, I couldn’t help it. My heart broke into a zillion little pieces as I stood there watching my life disintegrate before my eyes.

Daniel took a step forward, arms reaching…then he stopped, closed his eyes and clenched his fingers into fists before dropping them to his side. “Ahhh, Sunny. Why did it have to happen?” His eyes opened and I saw the tears. “I’ll always love you. But I just can’t live with this.”

“Daniel?” I reached blindly for him but he elbowed past me, out the screen door.