The Plan
Page 11
“Why do you look scared to death? You can pull off straight better than I can,” he added with a lopsided grin.
“It’s not that,” she blew out. She took a deep breath. “I look okay, right?” she asked, enduring his once-over.
“You look absolutely beautiful. There isn’t a woman in that house that’s going to be able to compete, doll.”
“Well,” she smirked, “I’m not trying to compete with anyone. I just want to get this over with.” She gathered her clutch and gripped the door handle with a white-gloved hand. “Let’s go.”
As they walked across the street, Scott glanced over at her. “You never said how I look tonight.”
“Oh, sorry, Scotty,” she said, taking in his black tux, which fit him well enough, and shined shoes, and took a whiff of his cologne. “You look extremely handsome.” She wrapped her hand around his arm, resting it in the crook. “We make quite the dashing pair, don’t you think?”
He smiled, though it was small and short-lived. “Do you think people like you and me will ever be able to go to a Christmas party like this without being a fraud?”
The words hurt her heart, as she’d wondered the same thing more than once. She pulled him a little closer as they continued toward the house. “I hope so, Scotty.”
The house was filled with people dressed in their holiday best, good-looking or beautiful and all intimidating. Eleanor knew they were the elite of the small town, folks like the mayor, lawyers, doctors, and city council members. She took a deep breath and did her best to mingle, even as she saw the confused looks from the other guests. Of course, Scott was all over the place, chatting, shaking hands, and charming the women with a kiss to the knuckles.
She was there an hour before she saw one of their hosts, and it was Lysette. Eleanor was standing near the doorway that led to an out-of-the-way hallway, which she believed led to the kitchen area, just trying to become a wallflower. As she nursed her cocktail, she saw Lysette enter the room, Scott at her side.
With a gasp, Eleanor ducked back a bit into the hallway, eyes wide as she watched the two on the other side of the room, both holding a drink in their hand and seemingly engaged in a lively conversation. At one point, Lysette seemed to stop midsentence and looked around, obviously searching for someone. Eleanor couldn’t help but wonder if Scott had told her they were there together. Perhaps she was looking for her.
She pushed the thought out of her mind as she focused on the woman herself. She had never seen Lysette look as stunning and gorgeous as she did that night. Her dress was form-fitting but incredibly elegant. It was a deep red color and looked to be velvet or at least a matte material. The off-the-shoulder dress showed off the creamy skin of her décolletage with just a hint of cleavage. Her rich auburn hair was pulled back into a chignon, revealing her tantalizing neck, delicate diamond earrings dangling from her ears.
“Jesus,” Eleanor whispered, barely able to breathe.
Though they were an entire room apart filled with many chatting people, she needed some space and distance. She ducked into the hallway where she was relieved to find a powder room just before the kitchen. Hurrying inside, she closed and locked the door, flicking on the light before setting her cocktail on the sink basin.
She blew out a loud breath and looked at her reflection in the mirror above the sink and below the three mounted bulb lights that cast shadows over her eyes. She and Scott had seen and spoken to Jimmy when they’d first arrived, and she had told Scott after the teen left so the “adult” party could start, they should have, too. Scott had insisted they stay, feeling it would have been rude to go.
Now she was hiding in a bathroom, her stomach in knots and wanting nothing more than to be at home in her nightgown buried beneath her comforter. It had been stupid to accept Jim Vaughn’s invitation. She’d known it the day it was offered, and she’d known it every day over the past week and a half since.
Eleanor paused in her self-recrimination as she heard footsteps go by the bathroom. The quick, almost aggressive clicks of high-heeled shoes made it seem their owner wasn’t too happy. That theory was validated when Eleanor heard the owner speak.
“What were you thinking, Jim?” Lysette hissed. “Why on earth would you let Jimmy invite her here?”
“Really, Lysette?” he hissed back. “Do we have to discuss this here with a houseful of people?”
They stopped near the closed bathroom door, Eleanor taking a step back, almost worried that somehow the couple would figure out she was listening.
“It is entirely inappropriate to have her here,” Lysette said, her voice low but angry, ignoring Jim’s question.
“Why? Jimmy wanted her here. I had a pleasant encounter with her, and forgive me for being silly here, but we thought you might like to meet this woman we talk about, too.” There was silence for a moment before Jim continued. “Good lord, Lysette. The way you’re acting, you’d think I invited my goddamned ex-girlfriend or something!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lysette muttered, her voice a bit closer to the bathroom door.
“It’s not me being ridiculous, dear. Now I’m returning to our guests.”
With the sound of a quick kiss, everything went quiet until Eleanor nearly had a heart attack when the doorknob was tried. When the lock held, a soft knock sounded.
“Is someone in there?” Lysette asked softly.
“Oh, my god!” Eleanor breathed, looking around for any kind of escape in the tiny room, equipped with only a sink and commode. There was a small window that, with the help of a small crank, opened inward. She rolled her eyes at the thought of attempting to squeeze through a tiny window in a thirty-dollar dress and heels with her mother’s pearls. No choice, she gathered her courage and reached for the knob, unlocking it before pulling the door open.
Coming face to face, Lysette gasped and took a step back, a hand coming up to her chest in seeming surprise.
“Excuse me,” Eleanor said softly, brushing past her as quickly as she dared.
Chapter Twelve
Eleanor was glad she was lying on her side facing the wall, so she didn’t have to worry about him seeing her eyes open just a bit. The bittersweet stench of his tobacco wafted over her. He said it was sinful, tobacco, like everything else. Guess that was for other people, not her father. She hated that smell with everything in her, always terrified if she reacted, if she moved or let him know she was awake, what might happen.
Nearly holding her breath, Eleanor waited until she heard the footfalls of his heavy boots move away from the bed. With what ended up being nearly the rebuilding of the second floor of the farmhouse, the floor and stairs no longer squeaked. She had to rely on any sounds he made or the smell of his damn rolled cigarettes now.
Once he was gone, leaving just the bitter ghost of tobacco behind, she squeezed her eyes shut and let out a slow, shaky breath.
****
Sitting at the table, it was quiet as Gabby scooted himself in, the fourth at their breakfast. Ed had insisted Eleanor help her mother that morning to prepare a full breakfast with their guest in mind. She was fine with helping, in fact wished she was allowed to help her more often, but she was unsettled about Gabby’s presence.
Ed said grace.
They’d been back in the house for little more than a week, and everything was essentially the same footprint as it had been before, though some of the kitchen had been taken to create a space for Gabby, who had been hired on as a full-time handyman, both on the farm and in the store. Her mother had been less than thrilled on so many levels, but like Eleanor, she had said nothing.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Gabby said as he was passed a plate fully loaded with eggs, country potatoes, and a thick slab of bacon.
“Thanks, Mama,” Eleanor said, accepting her own plate while her father remained quiet as he dug in, not everyone even served yet.
“This is mighty fine, ma’am,” Gabby muttered around a mouthful of food, nodding to emphasize his point. “Mighty fine.”
>
“Thank you, Gabby,” Emma said, giving him a small smile as she served herself.
“So you mentioned at supper last night that you moved around Texas quite a bit,” Ed said, sipping from his coffee. “Why’d you leave?” He emptied his cup and, without a glance to her, extended it in Eleanor’s general direction. “Get me more. You don’t mention your time there much, fella,” Ed continued.
Eleanor set her fork down and took the cup, pushing back from the table, only halfway listening as Gabby told his story.
“Well, it’s a sad story, really.” Gabby glanced over at the other man before focusing on his plate. “Lost my wife and baby son and lost myself in the booze for a bit,” he explained, continuing to eat. “Got myself in a little trouble with the law, so I decided to get on outta there and start over.”
“I’m sorry about your loss,” Emma said softly.
Eleanor sat down, placing her father’s refilled coffee cup in front of him. She eyed the man with the sandy-colored hair that flopped down into his eyes. They were a light blue, and though a beautiful color, there was something in them that didn’t sit well with her, an emptiness of sorts.
“Well, now you’re here with us.” Ed reached over and gave Gabby a slap to the shoulder. “Eleanor, after school today, I need you at the store. Gabby and I will be on deliveries for a bit.”
“Yes, Father,” she said, focusing back on her breakfast. She had wanted to stay after to talk to Mrs. Lawrence about extra help on her math, but she knew there was no way she could tell her father that. With him, options need not apply.
****
“So what’cha studying?” Gabby asked, maneuvering the truck from the store, where Ed had been dropped off, to the school.
Eleanor, who wanted to hug the door, swallowed before responding. “Um, just the basics, I guess.”
He nodded, turning off the main road to a side street that would lead in the general area of the school. “I wasn’t too good at school. Ended up leavin’ when I was thirteen. But then,” he added, “Daddy was off fightin’, so I had to help Mama and my sisters.” He glanced over at her. “No real reason for me to keep going for book learnin’ no more anyway, you know?”
She nodded. She’d heard so many similar stories to his regarding parents of classmates and some in her own family. When the United States had finally entered the Great War in 1917, a lot of young men marched off, leaving their families in dire straits back home.
“Yes, sir,” she said in response to his question.
“Your daddy go fight?”
“No, sir. He stayed to man the farm while his younger brothers did.”
He nodded, guiding the truck up to the curb. “Well, here ya go.”
She murmured a quiet thanks, then climbed out of the truck, greatly relieved to be out of his presence and away from her father for the independence of a handful of hours at school.
Standing on the sidewalk in front of the building, she sucked in a cleansing breath, readying herself for a day of classes. Her eyes closed and focusing on her breathing, she didn’t hear anyone come up behind her and pinch her behind, sending her nearly jumping into a nearby tree.
Whipping around in a somewhat hunched position to protect herself, she came face to face with a laughing Lysette. She blew out a breath, standing erect and bringing a hand up to her heart.
“You, beautiful girl,” Lysette chuckled as she reached up to undo the top two buttons of Eleanor’s buttoned collared shirt, “need to loosen up.”
“No!” Eleanor hissed, trying to bat her hands away, even as she tried not to get lost in the smell of Lysette’s perfume or her presence so close with an almost intimate touch. “My father will kill me.”
Lysette made a show of looking around, including behind Eleanor before meeting her gaze as she continued with her task. “Do you see your father here?”
“No,” she admitted grudgingly.
“Come on,” Lysette said, hitching her school bag a bit higher onto her shoulder as she hooked her arm with Eleanor’s and the two girls walked toward the building. “So I spoke with my mom the other night.”
Eleanor grinned. “I should hope so. You do live in the same house.”
Lysette sent a playful glare her way. “Smart aleck. I know it’s not for a couple months, but for winter break, we want to take you and your mom to spend the day with us in Denver.” A little hop was added to her step in excitement. “You’ve never been out of Brooke View, right?”
Eleanor’s jaw tightened as her spine straightened with a very strange mixture of pride and shame. She cleared her throat and looked away, watching as two boys tossed a baseball back and forth in front of the building.
“Hey,” Lysette said softy, stopping their progress with a hand to Eleanor’s arm.
Eleanor stopped walking but couldn’t look at her. She felt the weight of her heavy, uncomfortable shoes that were so cheaply made they made her feet blister. She felt the scratchy material of the plain white button-up blouse that made her break out sometimes. She felt how greasy her bound hair was because after the farmhouse was flooded and damaged, money had been used that was normally tucked away for extras, such as soap, toothpaste, or any special seasoning her mother may want. Bathing was only allowed twice a week, and one of those had to be Sunday for church.
“Hey,” Lysette said again, the hand that had stopped Eleanor’s forward movement now gently squeezed it. “I didn’t mean to upset you or embarrass you, Ellie,” she said. “I may have been born here, but most of my years were spent in Denver, so,” she added with a quirky little smile. “Kinda hard for me to not leave here, huh?”
Though obviously Lysette had a point, Eleanor was having a hard time letting go of her shame. All she could do was nod.
“Listen, most of these kids have never been out of here,” Lysette pointed out. “How could they be? Times are so hard right now, have been for a while. Shoot,” she said with a shrug, reaching up to run a hand over her perfectly coifed hair. “Some folks are just trying to make sure dinner is on the table, right?”
Feeling those beautiful eyes on her, finally Eleanor met them, nodding in agreement. “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Lysette said with a soft, understanding smile. “So since we can do something for you and your mom, we want to.”
Eleanor nodded, swallowing her pride and meeting Lysette’s hopeful gaze. “That’s really sweet, but my father would never allow that, you know that.” The slow smile that spread across those soft lips gave her a knot in her stomach. “What?”
“Well, see, I have a plan for that.”
“Oh, lord.” Eleanor rolled her eyes.
“Yes, exactly!” Lysette once again hooked their arms and got them moving toward the school, their classmates wandering around talking, some boys chasing each other with a teacher yelling after them to stop. They ignored it all. “Now your father is a Bible thumper, right?”
“Absolutely. Although, I do have to say now that Gabby has been joining us more and more for breakfast, he’s stopped making me talk about the stupid scriptures.” She felt Lysette’s gaze on her. Looking over at her, she saw the confusion and waved her hand in the air. “Never mind. Why do you ask?”
“Because. We’ll tell your dad that there’s a teen revival that you’ll be attending with me.”
Eleanor shook her head, reaching out for the large metal handle on the front door to the school. She pulled the door open and held it for Lysette, following her inside.
“But see, here’s the brilliance that involves your mom.” She weaved them around a girl and a boy who were arguing in the middle of the hallway. Eleanor thought it looked like a lovers’ spat. “You see,” Lysette continued, unwittingly pulling Eleanor out of her thoughts regarding the assumed couple. “We tell him that it’s only for us teen girls, and all of us have to be chaperoned by our mothers. It’s a mother-daughter revival.”
Eleanor mulled what she’d just been told, tasting the words and ideas before she gave her friend a smal
l smile. “It might work. Darn, you’re good.”
Lysette chuckled as she grabbed her school bag and unlatched it. “I can’t take full credit for it.” She reached inside and pulled out a sheet of paper. It was a flyer for said teen revival. Handing it to Eleanor, she grinned. “Exhibit A of how we can pull this off.”
Eleanor took the flyer and read it. Sure enough, everything that Lysette had espoused was true, except this said the revival was in a small steel mill town more than two and a half hours by car away.
“But this is in Pueblo.” She looked up at Lysette, who met her gaze looking rather proud of herself. “You said we’d be spending the day in Denver.”
Lysette chuckled as they stopped in front of the door to her first class. “Silly. Those are simple details your father doesn’t need to know about. After all,” she said, her voice not much more than a purr as she snatched the flyer from Eleanor’s hands and backed away toward the classroom. “It’s just for us girls to handle all the details.” With that, she was gone, a little giggle following.
Eleanor stood there for a long moment, trying to get her heart to start beating again after the look Lysette had given her and the low, sultry tone of her voice. She honestly didn’t even think her friend was fully aware of the effect she had on people half the time, but lordy did she.
Ever since they’d “practiced” that last night at the Landon house, Eleanor had followed Lysette like a little lost puppy. Even if Lysette didn’t know she was there lurking close by, Eleanor was drawn to her like a honeybee to the most beautiful and fragrant flower.
She watched Lysette with other people; she was kind and made everyone feel special. She made Eleanor feel special. Sometimes, it was hard not to feel sad, not to feel that the special attention Lysette seemed to give to her was no different than what she gave to everyone she came in contact with. She had a way of making a person feel like she was the center of her universe in that moment, like nobody else mattered and only that person could make her smile.