by Kim Pritekel
“I heard about your friend,” Lysette said, her voice soft and kind, if not a bit uncertain, just as Eleanor felt. “Well, Jimmy said he’s your boyfriend, really.”
Eleanor gave her a small smile and set the book and chalk on her desk before gripping the back of the chair, which she stood behind. “No,” she said, her voice equally as soft and quiet, almost worried if she rose in volume it would break the moment and Lysette would disappear. “He is my best friend, though.”
Lysette nodded, stopping her advance a few feet from the other side of the desk, eight feet of space between them. “I understand. He was with his…friend?” she asked, none of the edged innuendo in her voice like the police officer, none of the judgment or accusation.
Eleanor nodded. “Yeah.” She looked away, emotion rising in her chest. She swallowed and took a deep breath to make it go away. “Just two men going out to the middle of nowhere to be themselves,” she near-whispered. “Nothing more, nothing less. Out in the middle of nowhere because they can’t be themselves here, amongst their peers and townsmen.” She felt the anger rising along with the emotion and took another deep breath. This was not the person she could ever show vulnerability or weakness in front of, not anymore.
“They’re going to be okay?”
Eleanor nodded. “Ronnie was barely hit, grazed in the shoulder, I think.” She smirked, shaking her head. “I think Scott saw it coming and tried to block him with his body.”
“Wow,” Lysette whispered, looking down at her hands for a long moment. “He really cares about him.”
“He does.”
The bell in the hall rang, alerting students and faculty that first period was to begin in three minutes.
Lysette glanced over her shoulder toward the door before turning back to look at Eleanor, who met her gaze. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you that.” She again looked down at her hands, which clutched her purse. She took a deep breath before looking up again, seeming to have composed herself back into the woman Eleanor had come to know her as in their limited encounters over the months, a woman of incredible beauty but deeply guarded eyes and cool focus.
Without another word, she turned and left the room, her high heels clicking a staccato goodbye.
****
The theater wasn’t as busy as Eleanor worried it would be, kids already ready to get back to fun after two weeks back in school after the holiday break. Eleanor found a seat she was happy with, a bit farther back than she wanted, but it would certainly work. It was a western, not her favorite, but she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was relax and lose herself in fantasy before she headed to the hospital to visit Scott.
She settled in, her purse on the floor between her feet and the box of licorice on her lap. She glanced around as others found seats and chatted quietly amongst themselves. She got a strong whiff of freshly buttered popcorn very close to her. Glancing to the seat to her right, she saw someone sit down and get settled, a bag of the buttery stuff lowered to rest on a lap. A moment later, she found herself looking into Lysette’s eyes for just a moment before the other woman turned away, focused on the screen where dancing hot dogs sang their way across it.
Chapter Eighteen
“And I have something special for our Christmas meal this year,” Ed said, rising from his seat at the table. Emma, Eleanor, and Gabby remained seated.
Eleanor watched him walk out of the room before sparing a glance at her mother, who gave her a nearly imperceptible shrug and shake of her head. Feeling an icy gaze on her, she turned to her left to see Gabby watching them closely. The hard, heavy footfalls of her father on the old plank flooring brought her attention back to his vacated seat.
He carried a bottle about two-thirds of the way filled with clear liquid with a fat cork stopper shoved into the neck. He looked to Emma. “Get glasses. The special ones.”
Without a word, Emma did as she was told, hurrying out of the dining room and returning moments later with four cobalt blue glasses that looked like miniature wine glasses.
Eleanor watched this, a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. As her father uncorked the bottle, the pungent fragrance that wafted her way told her it was hooch, something that had been illegal due to Prohibition until a few weeks before. Ed filled each glass halfway with the clear liquid, which smelled more like gasoline than liquor, and handed them out.
Taking her glass in hand, Eleanor brought it up to her nose and sniffed experimentally, instinctively jerking away, blinking her eyes rapidly as they immediately began to tear. She wasn’t entirely sure she had any nose hairs left.
“It goes down easy as long as it’s quick,” Gabby assured with a grin.
She met his gaze before her focus returned to her father, who still stood and began to speak.
“Okay, so we don’t drink in this house, but today is a very special occasion, despite it being the day of the birth of our Lord.” He grinned. “So glasses up,” he instructed, raising his own. “To good news!”
Eleanor looked around the table to see the two men easily down their drink, which told her that her father hadn’t abstained nearly as much as he liked to pretend he had. But then, as it had always been: do as I say, not as I do. She watched her mother, who essentially squeezed her eyes shut and downed the potent brew as best she could, a violent shiver rushing through her once it was down.
All of this would’ve been amusing if there wasn’t such a profound sense of foreboding hanging in the air. Looking down into her own glass, Eleanor took a deep breath, sent a silent prayer up, and squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to down the liquid fire.
“Whoa, there.” Gabby laughed, pounding her on the back as she coughed, half her drink spilling down her chin.
“This is not for wasting!” Ed bellowed, banging his fist on the table, making the dishes of their mostly eaten Christmas meal jump.
“Hey, now,” Gabby said, raising a hand toward him. “Y’all calm down. This is her first real drink, and it was a doozy.” He grabbed Eleanor’s napkin and wiped at her mouth and chin. “That rot gut will get’cha right quick,” he told her, his hand dipping down to wipe at a bit of the liquid that landed on the shirt covering her left breast.
“I’ve got it, thank you,” she croaked, still coughing as the hooch had burned her esophagus the entire way down, plus her head was already beginning to swim. She took the napkin from him, glaring at him until he moved away from her, a smirk on his lips.
“So,” Ed said, getting attention back on him. “Our friend here,” he said, reaching a hand down and placing it on Gabby’s shoulder, “has asked for Eleanor’s hand in marriage.”
Eleanor heard the words and understood the meaning, but as she sat there, her world became fuzzy, and the sound of his voice took on a strange, long-distance quality. Her father may as well have been talking to her from the next house over as the sound of her own blood rushing through her veins took over.
“And as her father and head of this household, I accepted on your behalf, Eleanor.”
I don’t wanna! Eleanor had no idea if she’d actually spoken. She tried to stand but found herself still in her chair.
“And as a special gift to you, Eleanor, I’m going to allow you to finish out the year in school. You’ll be sixteen soon, and after a nice summer wedding, your time will be dedicated to learning how to be a good wife.” He poured himself and Gabby a second drink. “Congratulations, son,” he said, clinking his glass against Gabby’s raised one. “And good luck,” he added with a wink. “Trust me, you’ll need it.” The two snickered like little boys before downing their liquid fire, Gabby yelling out dramatically as the liquor hit him.
****
After the men had a third drink, the two grabbed the bottle and staggered out of the house, one apparently tripping down the front stairs as their laughter after the thud indicated. Eleanor had done her best to help her mother clean up, but that one drink—nearly one hundred ninety proof—had knocked her on her behind.
Tak
ing it super slow, her mother had helped her to her bedroom. She collapsed in her bed, her pickled brain trying to wrap around the fact that it couldn’t quite perform normally but also around the information it had been given to sort through.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Emma said softly, tucking her in under her quilt, her own words slightly slurred. She sat on the edge of Eleanor’s bed, a hand resting on her daughter’s covered hip. She let out a heavy sigh and stared out the window. “He did this to us on purpose,” she murmured, seemingly more to herself than Eleanor, who watched her.
“What?” Eleanor pulled her quilt higher under her chin. She felt chilled and slightly nauseated.
Emma glanced down at her, moving her hand from Eleanor’s hip to brush hair out of her face. “Made us take that drink.” She smirked, her hand falling into her own lap. “Can’t exactly fight back when you can’t think straight. Bastard.” Her gaze went to the window again.
Eleanor was surprised to hear such language out of her mother’s mouth regarding her father. Sure, she knew she felt that way, but they both seemed to feel his presence around constantly, no matter where he was. It was almost as if a bad or mean thought were voiced he’d know about it, somehow.
“I don’t wanna marry him, Mama,” Eleanor said, her voice sounding more like a young child than a young woman. “I don’t want to leave school.”
“I know. I know you don’t, sweetheart.” Emma leaned down and left a kiss to Eleanor’s forehead. “Get a little rest. I’ll wake you before they get back.”
****
It was two days after Christmas, and the store was open again. Eleanor had thought of nothing else other than what she was going to do to get out of the prison her father was determined to put her in. It was two days after Christmas, and she missed Lysette desperately. The Landons had gone away to visit some family in another part of the state, so they hadn’t seen each other or spoken since the last day of school before the holiday break began.
She was in the store taking down some of the Christmas decorations when she was grabbed from behind. Her mouth was covered, which muffled her cry of surprise as she was tugged out of the main area of the store and into the small space at the bottom of the stairs that led to the second floor before nearly being dragged halfway up the staircase.
Pulling away, she whipped around only to go from terrified of seeing Gabby to relief at looking at a grinning Lysette. “Thank god,” she almost sobbed as she pulled Lysette against her, wrapping her in a tight hug.
“Hey,” Lysette said, holding a trembling Eleanor tightly for a moment before pulling away just enough to look into Eleanor’s deeply troubled eyes. “What is it? I mean, god, I missed you so much, it’s been a whole week, after all, but what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to cry.” She caressed the side of Eleanor’s face.
For the first time in the two days since she’d been told, she felt safe. In Lysette’s presence, in her arms and seeing the affection in those beautiful endless pools of compassion and warmth, she felt the tiniest optimism that she may get through this. “I really need to talk to you,” she whispered, knowing that at any moment her father or Gabby could come around the corner, either looking for her or to head upstairs for something.
Lysette nodded. “Okay. I need to talk to you, too. Can you come over tomorrow? I mean, school doesn’t start for another week…”
Eleanor shook her head. “No. No way. Not now.” She looked away, the tears threatening. The way her father was watching her every move now, she assumed keeping her “in check” before Gabby could take over as her owner, she knew there was no free time for her.
“Damn. Okay, um…” Lysette chewed on her bottom lip and looked at the wall, almost as if for inspiration. Suddenly, eyes wide, she looked back to Eleanor. “Sneak out tonight. I’ll pick you up in my dad’s car over on Overton Road. It’s close enough you can easily get to but far enough they wouldn’t know I was there, wouldn’t hear me.”
“God, I don’t know,” Eleanor groaned, leaning against the wall in the narrow staircase, quickly glancing down to the bottom of the stairs to make sure they were still alone before looking at the gorgeous girl no more than two feet away from her. “If they found out, it would be…I don’t even want to think about that.”
“They?”
“My father and Gabby.”
“Oh. Look, Ellie, we don’t really have a choice. I mean, you know I’ll be here every single day just to see you, but we can’t talk here,” she said, indicating the building around them. She moved closer, her hands resting on Eleanor’s hips as her body grazed hers. “Please,” she whispered, pleading eyes pinning Eleanor to the spot. “Meet me.”
Eleanor’s eyes fell closed as she felt the soft, lingering kiss, her hands coming up to rest on Lysette’s shoulders before they slid down her arms and finally rested at her waist. The kiss never deepened, but Lysette definitely left her wanting more, brushing her full bottom lip against Eleanor’s before moving away, giving her a look that told Eleanor Lysette’s mind was nowhere in the neighborhood of moving away from her, but they both knew she had to.
“I’ll be on Overton at midnight,” she whispered, leaving one last kiss on Eleanor’s lips before trotting down the stairs and out of the store.
Left alone, Eleanor’s body was on fire, pulsing with a need and want she didn’t understand and had no clue what to do about. All she did know was Lysette was the only person who could put the fire out.
Letting out a long, shaky breath, she leaned her head back against the wall. “How on earth am I going to pull this off?” she whispered.
****
The clock ticked, mocking Eleanor as she lay in bed, fully clothed. She’d tried to act as normal as possible that night. She’d helped her mother cook dinner and clean up. That was something new, now that Gabby staked his claim. Her father felt it was time for her to, in his words, stop acting like a child and start learning.
She rolled her eyes at the thought. She’d been offering to help her mother for years. Shoving all that aside, she lay completely still, listening to the sounds in the house. Other than the occasional snort or snore from her parents’ bedroom, it was quiet. Everyone seemed to be staying put for the night.
As slowly and silently as she could, she pushed the covers off and got to her feet. She was grateful all the squeaky boards had been taken care of during the remodel, though she felt that was mainly because Gabby had done the floors. If her father had, he would have not only found a way to leave the squeaky spots, but also would have created more.
She spared a glance to her open bedroom door to make sure she was still alone before she put all the components together to create a passable dummy in her bed. She’d stuffed her nightgown with her blanket and positioned it so it looked like a body, at least in passing. Any sort of close inspection would be her undoing.
With her “body” positioned where it needed to be by her pillow, she grabbed a dark-colored knit cap, stuffing it with part of the blanket and placing it as the head. She knew it could pass as the top of her head just barely sticking out of the quilt. Everything positioned, she took a step back, looking at her handiwork objectively. With a shrug of acceptance, she grabbed her jacket and, after glancing to her doorway, shrugged into it. She’d carry her shoes with her and put them on once outside. There was no way she was going to chance the hard sole making too much noise.
Ten minutes and a million heartbeats later, Eleanor was running in the moonlit night from the farmhouse, her heavy breathing escaping in billowing white puffs of air. It was a strange mix of feelings inside her: fear, panic, total liberation. She nearly cried in relief and excitement when she saw the slow-moving head lamps creep down Overton Road, pulling to a stop at the end of the dirt road she was running down.
“Hurry, get in before you freeze to death,” Lysette hissed as she pushed open the passenger-side door from inside the car.
Eleanor nearly dove inside, slamming it shut behind her as Lysette
hit the gas and got them moving off into the darkness. The only light in the car was that coming off the dash instruments, painting Lysette’s features an eerie green. The two shared a look before bursting into laughter. For Eleanor, it was utter relief and shock that she’d done it at all.
“Where are we going?” she asked, watching as the car headed into the country, the houses getting farther and farther apart.
“Just out to the middle of nowhere,” Lysette said, slowing the car before turning left on a random road that led toward a large stand of trees, several miles from the farmhouse. She pulled to a stop, killing the engine and lights. They were essentially in a tunnel formed by the trees, which Eleanor figured completely hid the car. “Is this okay?”
Eleanor nodded. “Yeah. Nobody should bother us here, and we can talk.”
“It might get cold,” Lysette said softly. “I brought a blanket, but I think it’ll potentially draw attention to us if I leave the car running.”
“No, it’s okay. I agree.” She gave her a small smile, suddenly nervous as it occurred to her that they were totally alone together. A little thrill went through her, both excitement and anxiety.
They sat awkwardly in silence for a moment before Lysette turned to her. “I’m freezing. Let’s get in the back with the blanket.”
Without comment, they quickly abandoned the front seat and went to the back bench seat, the large leather seat cold and slick.
“Holy moley!” Eleanor exclaimed, hugging herself from where she was huddled by the door.
Lysette chuckled, sliding over to her with the wool blanket in hand. “Well, what do you expect, silly goose, sitting all the way over there?”
