Home for Erring and Outcast Girls

by Julie Kibler

  Most importantly, though, my afternoon with River had convinced me I didn’t care about prom at all. Jess did, however, and I didn’t have to ruin her excitement. Without a single shy or awkward bone, she’d dance the night away. She wouldn’t care how she looked or who watched. That, I envied. I’d be thrilled if she had her dream date for prom—and not terribly sad if I didn’t. Our mothers had suggested going in a group of girls, but I suspected change was in the air for Jess. She’d been talking to one of the other seniors in youth group lately—very cute, but very busy with sports and a million other things. He’d never given dating the time of day, but Jess had hoped their recent flirting might translate into a prom invitation if she could focus his attention properly.

  I pulled up to her house and she spotted me from the window. She raced down the sidewalk. “Guess what?”

  I pretended ignorance.

  “Jordan asked me to prom!” she shrieked.

  I clapped. “Of course he did!”

  “But wait, there’s more.” I tried not to laugh, picturing her selling something on late-night television. “It’s a two-for-one.”

  I felt my eyebrows merge. “He’s taking both of us?” I nearly snorted. I wouldn’t be a third wheel for prom, thanks and no thanks.

  “No! That would be weird. But we happen to know that someone else will be inviting you very, very soon.”

  I fended off a scowl but couldn’t help gaping. Fielding a potentially unwelcome invitation sounded horrible—not to mention, all the other seniors in youth group had already paired off or had just asked Jess.

  “You’ll never guess who,” Jess said.

  “No kidding. Please, put me out of my misery already!”

  “I can’t. But you’ll be okay with it. Everyone is going to be super jealous.”

  “Hmm,” I said. By everyone, I assumed she meant the girls at school. None of the girls in youth group would care. We were usually happy for each other when nice things happened.

  “You’ll know soon enough. But you better get home. Your mom was worried when I called two times.”

  My head swung up.

  “Relax—I didn’t tell her you weren’t at the coffee shop. I just said I needed to talk to you again.” She patted the hand I rested on the door frame—the same one River had tugged me by. It felt conspicuously changed. Could she tell? “By the way,” Jess said, as if she could read my mind, “where were you all afternoon?”

  I fumbled for an answer. “I was just…not really in the mood to study, but didn’t want to freak my mom out. She’s on my case about AP tests right now. I went for a walk.” I kept my eyes down so Jess wouldn’t read me. I hadn’t felt like studying, and I had taken a long walk. I didn’t say I’d been doing it two hours away and hadn’t been alone.

  I was afraid to tell Jess about River.

  In ways, it made no sense. Jess was my best friend, but she didn’t have a jealous streak. She’d been the kid who invited the whole class to her birthday parties even without her mother suggesting it—exactly why she wanted me to have a prom date.

  But this new friendship, this new thing I couldn’t even describe yet, had me wanting to keep it to myself for a while, at least until I’d figured it out. River wasn’t like any friend Jess or I had had before, and I wanted to define it before anyone else tried to. I sensed, however, that things were about to get complicated—as if they weren’t already.

  Jess shooed me home. “Call me,” she said.

  * * *

  —

  My mother assailed me at the front door. “Hello, Miss Popular. The phone’s been ringing off the wall.”

  I rolled my eyes. I was not popular by anyone’s definition, and definitely not based on two calls, but at least she wasn’t suspicious. Jess and I practically had a second sense about where to find each other. We’d been friends since cradle roll, sharing crackers and juice during children’s church, then Bible drill and mission clubs, and for the last six years, youth group—though now, we preferred Dr Pepper and Doritos.

  “Did you talk to Jess?” Mom said.

  “Mm-hmm,” I said, lugging my backpack toward my room.

  She followed. “She seemed excited.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I repeated. “Prom date.”

  I hoped she’d let it go, but my mother was nearly as maternal about Jess as she was about me. I was an only child, and she latched on to the other kids we knew.

  “What? Tell!”

  “Jordan. No surprise.”

  “Oh, really. I didn’t know they liked each other. When did that happen?”

  I sighed. This was why I didn’t talk to her about crushes, mine or anyone else’s. If you said one word, she slapped the marriage contract on the table. “They’re just friends, Mom.”

  “Just wondered.” Her mouth drooped. It was so easy to upset her these days, and I wondered if she was struggling with me growing up. But she rebounded fast. “Anyway, that sounds fun. Guess who else called? Seth Baxter.”

  And like that, it was clear. As clear as mud.

  Seth? Why on earth would he ask me to my prom? And why now, of all times? He’d gone away to a private Christian college for a year, but now he attended community college nearby while he worked as an intern at church. We’d all been surprised to see him back home, but he’d wanted to be a youth minister for years and said he needed hands-on experience. He worked with the middle schoolers because of his age—technically, he was still one of us. Seth’s family had been at the church for centuries, or so it seemed. Baxter was on every dedication plaque in the building.

  He’d had one fairly long relationship during high school with another girl from church, then flirted with me for about five minutes after they broke up. I’d been flattered, but I’d also known he was on the rebound and leaving for college. I knew what happened to younger girls when their boyfriends went off to college. It never ended well. But he’d been my first big crush. In fact, my only big crush. I’d nurtured it, even after he’d gone to college—and I’d been thrilled when he came back. But after today, I knew implicitly that my crush on Seth was different from how I felt about River. And even more important, how I felt when I was with River.

  “I always thought Seth was nice. He’s pretty easy on the eyes too,” Mom said.

  I nearly laughed. “Mom, you’re not allowed to say ‘easy on the eyes,’ especially about someone my age.” At this moment, I really needed her to stay in her role and keep her distance.

  She winked. “I’m just saying he’s not a terrible option.”

  “Please. Don’t.”

  I slammed her into meek silence with only two words. As I approached adulthood, I’d realized the way to keep my parents out of my business was to make them painfully aware they were middle-aged and, thus, clueless. Not having siblings to spread their focus made it worse. When I left home, Mom would struggle. I felt sympathetic sometimes. But not today.

  “At any rate, he called.” Her voice drifted off. Mom’s feelings were hurt. I regretted being rude, though it was the only thing that worked.

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling more gently. “He probably wants help. The middle school group is always short on female volunteers. Can’t say I blame anyone…”

  “His number’s on your desk.”

  “Cool.” I knew it by heart—from all the years I’d hoped to see it show up on caller ID.

  “The cordless is in its cradle,” she called as I continued down the hall.

  I sighed again. “Thanks, Mom.” I was happy she’d found the phone, because it was likely charged now and I wouldn’t have to call from the kitchen, but that meant she’d pawed through my laundry.

  “I was just getting towels!” Mom yelled.

  I rarely emptied pockets until right before I washed things. I was afraid that inside one was the flyer about the open mic, with a little messa
ge scrawled in the corner. I hadn’t noticed it until after River walked away that day.

  “Please come! I’m writing a new song. It might be about you.”

  It had seemed a little weird, considering we hardly knew each other—but River didn’t seem weird. My mind went to the song now. The one I suspected was about me. The lyrics and tune had lodged in my brain, a little earworm that popped up often. I’d wanted to ask River about it, but I was too self-conscious. I’d carried the flyer in my pocket for days.

  If Mom had seen the note, things would get weird, but surely she’d have asked. My laundry was in a neat pile on the floor, not scattered wherever I dropped it as I frantically scavenged for school clothes. I was no longer the bright-eyed freshman who carefully planned outfits at night, hoping I’d catch someone’s eye at school—someone I had a crush on, like Seth, or the popular girls, who might then invite me to sit at their lunch table. I was a senior now. I just needed to be covered.

  I didn’t hurry to return Seth’s call. I wondered if Jordan and Jess had put him up to it. I remembered seeing Jordan and Seth at the last basketball game of the season. I hated sports—except for running, which wasn’t even in the same category as far as I was concerned. I dreaded watching games so much, I only went when Jess begged. That night, I’d said hello to Seth, but as soon as Jess started chatting with Jordan, Seth headed off to a different section. It was part of his job to go where the middle school kids hung out, and in Grissom, that meant basketball games—but I’d chased him so long, being left in his wake was nothing new.

  My fingers dialed slowly. He picked up immediately. “Cate! How’s it going?”

  Ugh. I’d forgotten caller ID worked the other way too. “Oh, hi!” Suddenly, the hand that held the phone shook, and I heard it even in my voice. My nervousness confused me.

  We talked about colleges I was considering. His classes. The internship. “So,” I finally said, “did you need help with the middle school girls?” He needed to get to the point.

  “Actually, I hadn’t even thought about that. You’d be great! But…no, something else.”

  “Okay?”

  “Jordan mentioned he asked Jess to prom today. I assume she said yes?”

  “She did.” Ugh ugh.

  “He thought I should see if you wanted me to take you.”

  I sat, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t an outright question.

  “So…would you like that? It might be fun.”

  “Can I think about it?” I said, but after an awkward silence, I felt bad. It had taken at least a little nerve to call, even if Seth was technically doing me a favor—even if I didn’t want a favor.

  “I thought Jess might have mentioned it.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “I mean, assuming you didn’t already get asked. Maybe you—”

  “No, I didn’t,” I interrupted. “I just need to give it a little thought. You know me. I think too much.”

  Seth’s answering laugh was forced. I found myself wanting to reassure him. My reaction was bewildering, even to me. I’d liked him for so many years, it was surreal to realize I hadn’t thought of him in days. But something unexpected was happening with River. Something real. And prom with River was out of the question. I couldn’t imagine it, not even casually.

  Now, going with someone else seemed like a distraction.

  I didn’t want a distraction.

  I wanted River.

  I was more honest with myself in that moment than I’d been all day. All month. Even if River wasn’t the kind of person my parents or friends would approve of me seeing—ever—I wanted it. My certainty took me by surprise.

  “Welp. No big deal,” Seth said. “Let me know. I’m happy to go. I always had a huge crush on you, you know.”

  I hadn’t known. Because he hadn’t had a crush on me. Not at all. I wondered why he felt he needed to pretend.

  At dinner, Mom couldn’t help digging. I could tell she’d mentioned the call to Dad because his eyes smiled when she brought it up. He wasn’t surprised, just not as obvious.

  “He volunteered to take me to prom.” I made it clear it was a mercy date, hoping Mom would hold off on wedding deposits.

  “Oh, honey!” Mom said. “I always hoped the two of you might get together.”

  “I didn’t say yes yet. Is it even allowed?” I looked at Dad. I wasn’t sure Seth was permitted to date anyone still in high school. Dad was the one tuned in to all the church policies—if there was one for this.

  He considered. “Well, he’s not working with the high schoolers, and you were already friends. It’s probably fine. I could run it by the personnel committee—”

  “Oh, let’s not get the PC involved,” Mom said. “They’d probably want to draft a whole new handbook.” She gazed at me, eyes excruciatingly bright. “Honey! Say yes!”

  I swirled my spaghetti around on my plate. She knew I was wavering.

  “He’s a really nice guy, and his priorities are in order. Go! You can’t miss prom.”

  Dad had already pushed his plate away and unfolded the newspaper on his placemat to scan headlines. He didn’t really care. But Mom was so fervent, I felt guilty for upsetting her earlier, and worse for lying. Her life had revolved around me for nearly eighteen years. If I didn’t go, she’d never get to scratch the prom itch moms probably felt. Helping me prepare for prom was definitely on her checklist.

  I had to go, and I could do worse. I’d waited for Seth to notice me—really notice me—forever. Now he had. “I’ll call him back,” I said.

  Mom jumped up and hugged me. I thought she might cry. “We can dress shop next weekend! And talk to Jeanne about your hairstyle.” She eyed my ponytail.

  I face-palmed. “Let’s not get carried away, Mom.”

  Still, she beamed. I couldn’t ruin her moment.

  * * *

  —

  I apologized to Seth, saying it took time for me to adjust to surprises, but his invitation was a surprise I was pleased to accept. In a small way, I was, after seeing my mom’s pleasure.

  I dug River’s flyer from the laundry pile. I studied the words again, then folded it carefully and put it in my desk drawer, beneath a stack of journals. I’d never been one to write about myself, so whenever I received a journal as a gift I added it to the unused pile. Now, though, I carried the topmost one to bed. Before I slept, I wrote what I was scared to speak aloud—to my mom, to Jess, and especially to River, who’d caused my feelings to emerge so unexpectedly.

  I’d always assumed something of this nature would occur gradually, with a warning it was on the way. But like every single Texas summer, when it hit, I was blindsided.

  I slipped the journal under my pillow and drifted off, remembering the afternoon. How once our eyes adjusted to the dim glow inside the deserted depot, we’d stood still, River clasping my hand, both of us astonished. Someone, maybe a century earlier, had painted murals on the walls, framed top and bottom by intricately carved wainscoting now scratched and coated with dust. The murals depicted forgotten life in Carr City. Though dusty and slightly faded, their detail was exquisite, living and breathing scenes in a palette as rich as a cornucopia’s. The workmen. The maids. The mothers and fathers, children and dogs. A summer hotel with airy balconies and a paddle wheel churning a rushing stream.

  And while the floor was littered with trash, and the woodwork nearly ruined, the art was virtually untouched, as though any who witnessed the stunning record of a time gone by had revered it instead of scarring it with graffiti or sharp objects.

  After we caught our first breath, we walked, hand-in-hand, studying the panels. River refused to use the camera flash on what had been preserved so well for so long, and only captured a few more shots outside once we emerged, blinking as our eyes readjusted to the modern world and the bright afternoon sunlight.

  We
’d driven back to our real lives in companionable silence, acoustic music in the CD player. I felt, for the first time in a long time, stirred. As if we had shared something holy.

  I could hardly explain it. There’d been no Bible reading or preaching. But what we’d seen had shown me something bigger—something greater even than the God we’d crammed into a box of our choosing, at a church that told us how and when and what we would worship and believe. That humans could create this thing of beauty in such a common and temporary space, and then honor an unspoken agreement to preserve it, maybe for a hundred years, helped me believe in divine intervention more than anything in that box.

  It made me question more than that too. It made me question why River, who seemed more suited to my personality and temperament than anyone my parents and youth minister deemed appropriate, and who had helped me see this bigger picture, was off-limits.

  MATTIE

  Arlington, Texas

  1905

  Mattie finally found a moment to see Sister Susie near suppertime. The shock of the visit sent her outside, behind the house. When she thought she’d pulled herself together enough to go to the dining room, she spied Miss Hallie marching toward the house, disgust twisting her face.

  Mattie knew instinctively she’d found May. She wanted to simply sink to the ground and cry like a child. It was all too much for one day. She’d had worse days, though, by a long shot, and if she wanted to keep Lizzie and Docie safe, she had to be strong. She stood in the woman’s way to slow her. “Good heavens, Miss Hallie, have you seen the Devil himself?”

  “If not the Devil, something equally evil. There is”—Miss Hallie sputtered, as if her own words might choke her—“an unclothed woman in the loft of the old barn. That woman who broke Sister Susie’s door glass. She didn’t say how she came to be there, but I have my suspicions.”