The Seventh Mother

by Sherri Wood Emmons

  She took one of Emma’s arms and Lorelei took the other and they helped Emma rise from the floor.

  “I guess I’m not used to so many stairs,” Emma said.

  “Let’s get you up to your room.” Sister Frances took Emma by the elbow and began pulling her down the hallway. “We’ll take the elevator.”

  Emma turned to look at me with wide eyes.

  “Come on,” Lorelei said, grabbing my hand. “We’ll meet them at the top. The elevator’s too small for all of us.”

  I ran up the stairs behind her toward the third floor, then down the hallway to the elevator. We’d reached the door before it opened. Emma stepped off, Sister Frances’s hand still under her elbow.

  I led the way back to our room, not looking back at Emma and the nun. I couldn’t bear the look on Emma’s face.

  “Here you go, sit down.” Sister Frances guided Emma to a bed. “Lorelei, will you get us a glass of cold water?”

  Lorelei nodded and disappeared. I heard her feet pounding against the wooden floor as she ran to the kitchen. A minute later she was back, carrying a large glass with water and ice cubes.

  “Now, just take a sip,” Sister Frances said, holding the glass to Emma’s mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” Emma said. “I don’t know what happened.”

  “You passed out,” Lorelei said, standing in the doorway. “You looked really pale and I was worrying, and then I heard you fall.”

  “Jenny?” Emma looked toward me and I tried to smile at her.

  “I’m okay, are you?” I asked, willing her to be healthy and strong.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  She started to sit up, but the tiny nun’s strong hands held her shoulders against the pillow.

  “You’re obviously not fine,” she said firmly. “Lorelei, be a dear and call the infirmary. Ask one of the nurses to come, will you?”

  The blond head bobbed and disappeared.

  “Just sip some more water,” Sister Frances said. “Try to relax. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’ll feel better if a nurse checks you out.”

  Emma sighed and took a sip of water.

  “I really am fine,” she said.

  The nun only looked at her, not moving from where she sat on the bed.

  “Shirley Rigby said you needed a safe place to stay,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re running from?”

  Emma looked at me and I stared at her. Then she took a long, deep breath.

  “My husband,” she said, then paused. “I met Brannon last summer when he was working in Idaho. I followed him here to Kentucky and we got married in January.”

  Sister Frances said nothing, just took Emma’s hand and held it in her own.

  “Jenny is his daughter, my stepdaughter.”

  The nun smiled at me.

  “Anyway, she was going through some boxes in the attic and found . . . well, she found some things that . . .” She looked up at me then, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Daddy’s had a whole bunch of women,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice steady. “They come and stay, and then they go. Except, in the attic I found the jewelry Daddy gave them, and these.” I handed her the stack of driver’s licenses.

  Sister Frances took the plastic cards and stared at them.

  “These women all lived with your father?”

  I nodded. “And they all left. Except, they wouldn’t leave their licenses behind, would they? And then I started Googling them, and . . .”

  “Two of them are listed as missing,” Emma continued. “Two more are dead. One of them was found in Texas, her body, I mean. She was already dead. The other was found dead in Florida.”

  “We lived there,” I said.

  “In Florida?” The nun turned to look at me.

  “And in Texas.” I nodded. “We lived all over. And Trish lived with us, and so did Ami and Jackie and Cara and Briana.”

  A small noise made us all turn to the doorway, where Lorelei stood, staring with wide eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to . . . I just came to tell you that Sister Paul is on her way.”

  “Thank you, dear.” The nun nodded at her as if dismissing her.

  Lorelei stood for a minute, then nodded back and disappeared.

  Sister Frances turned back to Emma.

  “Have you talked to the police?”

  Emma shook her head. “I just found out yesterday, and all I could think of was to get out of there, away from him. Besides, we don’t have any real proof that . . . that Brannon is involved in any of it.”

  “Well, for right now the thing to do is take care of yourself and your baby.”

  As if on cue, a woman appeared in the doorway, tall and thin and carrying a medical bag.

  “Here’s Sister Paul. She’s a nurse and she’ll take good care of you.”

  Sister Frances rose and Sister Paul approached the bed.

  “I understand you fainted?”

  Emma nodded.

  “Well, let’s check your blood pressure and temperature,” the nurse said.

  Sister Frances walked to the door, then turned back toward us and said, “Jenny, would you like a cup of cocoa? I have some in the kitchen downstairs.”

  I shook my head and she smiled and held out her hand.

  “Come on, dear. Let’s let the nurse check Emma out.”

  I looked to Emma. She nodded and smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Go have some cocoa.”

  I followed the nun down to the second floor and into the kitchen.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have any marshmallows,” she said, pulling a packet of instant cocoa from the cabinet. “Sister Agnes ate them all last week.”

  She smiled at the memory. “I came in here and found her sitting on the floor with the entire bag, just eating them and humming to herself.”

  “Is that the one you had to go get last night?” I asked.

  “Yes, she gets confused.” She shook her head. “It’s such a mystery, the mind. Physically, Agnes is fine, healthy and strong. But her mind . . . well, it’s like she’s not really here anymore.”

  She poured hot water into a mug with the cocoa, stirred it, and put it on the table in front of me.

  “How old are you, Jenny?”

  “Eleven.” I took a cautious sip of cocoa.

  “And you’ve lived with your father always?”

  I nodded. “My mom died when I was three. At least I think that’s when she died. That’s what Daddy told me. But now, I don’t know if that’s true or not. I don’t know anything now.”

  I blinked back tears.

  Sister Frances sat down beside me and put her hand on mine.

  “I know it’s very confusing,” she said. “I know you’re upset, and you have a right to be. He’s your dad and you love him.”

  I nodded, but I couldn’t speak because of the huge lump in my throat.

  “Whatever turns out to be the truth,” she said, her voice gentle, “you and Emma are safe here.”

  “Thank you,” I mumbled.

  She stood and began pacing around the kitchen, her hands clasped behind her back. I watched her while I drank my cocoa. I’d never met a nun before. She wasn’t anything like I expected. She seemed just like any other old woman, just normal.

  The nurse walked in then, smiled at me, and sat down.

  “Your mother is going to be fine,” she said. “She’s a little bit dehydrated and the stairs were a bit much for her. But she and the baby both seem fine.”

  “Can I go see her?” I rose.

  “Sure,” she said. “Just keep things quiet and make sure she stays off her feet for a while.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I turned to Sister Frances. “Thank you for the cocoa.”

  I ran from the kitchen, down the long hallway, and up the stairs—back to our room. Back to Emma.

  44

  Emma

  Jenny’s face was ashen, her eyes red, when she ran into the room. “
Are you okay?” she panted.

  “I’m fine.”

  She lay down on the narrow bed beside me and laid her head on my shoulder. I put my arms around her and kissed her head.

  “The nurse said I’m a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

  “What is she going to do?”

  “Nothing,” I said, patting her back. “I’m just supposed to take it easy and drink lots of water.”

  “Is the baby okay?”

  “The baby is fine. We’re okay, Jenny. We’re going to be fine.”

  She sat up and stared at me, shaking her head.

  “How?” she asked. “How are we ever going to be fine again?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But I’ve been through hard times before, and I came out okay. We just have to be careful and think of what to do next.”

  “Should we call the police?” Jenny’s voice shook. I knew she was worrying about Brannon.

  “Not yet,” I said. “Not until we know something, anything for sure.”

  “How will we know for sure?”

  I tried to smile at her. She looked so scared and small, sitting there on the bed.

  “Well, I think we should go to Indianapolis,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “Tomorrow, maybe, or the next day. Once we’re sure I’m okay and the baby is okay. We’ll drive up there and try to find Hailey’s mother . . . your grandmother. Maybe she knows some things we don’t. Meantime, we’ll stay here. Brannon doesn’t know about this place. He won’t look for us here.”

  Jenny lay back down beside me then and sighed. For a long time we just rested there, wrapped in our own thoughts. Then she sat up again.

  “I saw a bunch of books on a table downstairs,” she said. “Do you want to read?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Go pick out a couple books.”

  She stopped at the door. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I smiled at her. “Go get some books, so we don’t die of boredom.”

  I heard her feet pounding down the stairs, felt tears slide down my cheeks. Jenny was so young, and everything she ever knew about herself and her father had been turned upside down. Maybe I should have left her with Brannon. He would never hurt Jenny, I felt sure of that. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her with me.

  Then I shook my head. I couldn’t have just left her there. I knew that. I loved Jenny. I couldn’t leave her behind. Not knowing what I knew now.

  Please, God, please help me to be strong. Please help me to protect Jenny and my baby. Please show us what to do.

  I closed my eyes, trying to squeeze back the tears.

  “Hey.” A voice came from the doorway.

  Lorelei stood, carrying a package of crackers.

  “When my sister was pregnant, all she could hold down was crackers. I thought they might help.” She set the package on the table by my bed and stood, looking uncertain.

  “Thanks, Lorelei.” I smiled at her.

  She sat down on the bed next to mine.

  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she said.

  “It’s okay.”

  “Do you think your husband is looking for you?”

  I nodded and sighed.

  “He won’t look here,” I said. “He doesn’t even know about this place.”

  “What will you do next?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I was thinking of going to Indianapolis. That’s where Jenny’s mother was from. We have a letter she got from her mother, so we have an address. It’s a place to start, I guess.”

  “Can I see the address?”

  I looked at her for a long time, trying to decide whether to trust her, this perky young woman with spiky blond hair. Her blue eyes met mine, not wavering. Finally, I handed her the envelope. She scanned the address and her eyes widened.

  “My best friend left her husband,” she said, handing the envelope back to me. “He beat the hell out of her, and eventually she couldn’t take it anymore and left.”

  “What happened to her?” I asked.

  “He killed her.”

  I stared at her, feeling my stomach clench.

  “He went to the bank where she worked and he shot her.” She shook her head and wiped a hand across her eyes.

  “I made a promise to her at the funeral that I would never just sit by again. I knew he was hitting her. She denied it, but I knew. And I didn’t do anything. And then it was too late.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  “So,” she said, straightening her shoulders, “maybe that’s why I came down this week. I wasn’t scheduled to come. Carol and Lydia asked me, but I told them I couldn’t. I didn’t have enough vacation time. Then, the day before they left, I just decided, ‘What the hell?’ And I came.”

  She paused and looked at me, but I had no idea what to say.

  “Maybe I’m supposed to be here now to help you.”

  I shook my head.

  “It’s nice you want to help,” I said. “But I don’t want to drag you or anyone else into our mess. If Brannon really did kill those women . . . he could be really dangerous, Lorelei. I don’t want you to end up getting in the middle of it.”

  Jenny’s feet pounded up the stairs toward us. Lorelei rose and stared down at me.

  “Sometimes you have to accept a God-thing when it comes,” she said firmly. “Pray on it, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll pray on it.”

  Jenny came in carrying an armful of books. She stopped when she saw Lorelei, looking from her to me and back again.

  “I’ll be back,” Lorelei said.

  “What did she want?” Jenny asked after we heard Lorelei’s steps echo down the hall.

  “She wants to help.”

  “How can she help?” Jenny asked. “Is she a cop or something?”

  “No,” I said. “She’s just a nice person.”

  “Did she hear you tell Sister Frances about Daddy?”

  I nodded.

  “What if she tells someone?” Jenny’s eyes grew wide.

  “She won’t,” I said. “She really is just a nice person.”

  She dumped the pile of books onto an empty bed.

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I just brought a bunch for you to choose from.”

  I scanned the books, settling on a novel with a picture of a haunted-looking little girl on the cover. Jenny chose another book and lay down on her bed.

  “Emma?”

  “Yes, Jenny.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  We read until we heard the bell ring, announcing lunch.

  Jenny stretched and set her book aside.

  “Are you ready for lunch?” I asked, sitting up.

  “You’re supposed to stay in bed,” she said firmly.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said.

  She shook her head and stared at me darkly. “You should stay in bed. I’ll go down and get you something. You can eat it here.”

  I laughed and swung my feet over the side of the bed, searching for my shoes.

  “She’s right.”

  Lorelei stood in the doorway again.

  “You stay here,” she said. “Jenny and I will go get lunch and bring you up something.”

  “All right.” I sighed, flopping back on the bed. “I’m outnumbered.”

  Jenny followed Lorelei out of the room. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My stomach growled. I hoped they’d be back soon.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  Sister Frances stood in the doorway, smiling.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Can I bring you something for lunch?”

  “Jenny and Lorelei went to get something,” I said. “But thank you.”

  She nodded and turned to go.

  “Sister?”

  She turned back.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.” She walked into the room and sat down in the rocker by the window.r />
  “Is Lorelei . . . can I trust her?”

  Sister Frances laughed. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Lorelei is a good person. I know she appears a bit . . . flighty at first. But she’s got a good heart and a good soul.”

  “She said she wants to help me.”

  The nun nodded.

  “She doesn’t even know me,” I said. “Why would she want to help?”

  “Lorelei has some healing to do herself,” Sister Frances said. “I think helping you and Jenny could be a part of that healing.”

  “She thinks she’s here right now to help me. She called it a God-thing.”

  The nun laughed again. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe God put her in your path for a reason.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  She paused for a minute, then said, “I think God is here whenever we help one another. Do I believe God sent her here on purpose? Who knows? But she’s here, and you’re here, and she wants to help you. And that’s God.”

  “That’s not the kind of God I grew up with.”

  “Ah,” she said. “You’ve had a bad church experience?”

  I nodded. “I came out of it thinking the church is just a way for old men to control everyone.”

  “Do you want to know what I think?”

  I nodded again.

  “I think in the end, all churches are human creations. Some are just more human than others.”

  I stared at her.

  “But if the church is a human creation, why did you become a nun?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t think God was real,” she said. “I believe God is real. I know God is real. But the church . . . well, I think that’s just our very human way of trying to understand God. And of course we can’t ever really understand God. God is a mystery. But I think when we act toward one another with kindness, that’s God showing up through us, letting us be his hands in the world.”

  “That’s nice,” I whispered.

  “You get some rest,” she said, rising. “And if you need anything, I’m right downstairs.”

  I lay there thinking about what Sister Frances had said. Was God real? If so, I definitely liked her vision of him better than the one I’d heard as a child.

  After a while, Lorelei and Jenny returned, carrying trays from the cafeteria. We ate chicken and rice and broccoli that had been cooked to a mush, while Lorelei talked about her church in Indianapolis. She was the director of music there.