by Megan Hart
The blemished.
Months and months had passed, and she still thought of them that way. She didn’t say it out loud, not to Chris or Liesel and not even to Dr. Braddock, who’d made it so clear Sunny could tell her anything, no matter what. Sunny told Dr. Braddock a lot of things, but she never said aloud that she still thought of herself as something separate from the rest of them.
With the baby on her hip she leaned close to her window, open though she knew Liesel didn’t like it that way even when Sunny carefully closed all the vents in her room and kept her door closed so she wasted as little electricity as possible. It was the air-conditioning that was really wasteful, not Sunny’s open window, but still, she closed it before she went out, just in case Liesel came in.
Liesel liked to say she respected Sunny’s privacy and would never go into the room they’d given her without Sunny’s permission, but that was silly and not completely true. Sunny knew Liesel went inside to gather laundry or for other reasons she didn’t know or care about. Sunny knew something Liesel didn’t—privacy was something Sunny appreciated but didn’t necessarily expect. She was glad for it certainly, especially when it came to things like the bathroom. Not having to share a shower with anyone was wonderful, even though she knew it was just as wasteful to spend half an hour in the hot water as it was to use the AC. Maybe even more, because it was not just a waste of energy but of water well beyond what was necessary to keep her vessel…her body…clean.
But expect? No. In fact, since Peace and Happy had moved into their own rooms, the space left for Sunny and Bliss seemed way too big. The bed, too huge. She stretched out in it every night like a starfish, arms and legs reaching to all four corners yet unable to touch. There were many nights she took Bliss into bed with her even though the baby no longer even woke at night to nurse.
But what could she say?
Please put us all back in the same room because it’s too hard for me to sleep by myself. Please inspect my room to see if I’ve disobeyed you by opening the window though you’ve asked me not to, because if I made a report to you on myself, you’d just look at me like I was crazy.
Dr. Braddock had said, over and over again, that Sunny was not crazy. She had not said that Papa was crazy, but Sunny knew that’s what Dr. Braddock thought. It’s what everyone thought on the TV and in those articles in the magazines Liesel had thrown in the trash but Sunny had seen anyway.
John Second. He was crazy. And cruel. Dr. Braddock had convinced Sunny of that. All the things he’d done to her, those bad things when she was a child and even later…and finally the bad thing he’d made the rest of them all do…he was crazy. He’d taken his father’s words and ruined them, Sunny had no doubts about that. But some of Papa’s words, the things he’d taught them about respecting and loving the earth and taking care of their vessels, most of that still felt right to her. Even if her mother had gotten cancer. Even if instead of vessel she was supposed to think “body.”
“By calling it a vessel, Sunshine, it makes it too easy to believe that taking your own life is a valid choice.” That’s what Dr. Braddock said. “When you call your body a vessel, you separate yourself from it like it’s an object you can easily replace. When the truth is, your body is as much a part of your existence as your soul. You need your body.”
Her body. Sunny looked down at her wrists and hands exposed below the buttoned sleeve of her lightweight blouse as she quietly pulled her door closed. Liesel had picked out this blouse, which was so pretty and yet still in keeping with the family’s ideas of modesty that Sunny wanted to wear it every single day. She would’ve, too, but Liesel frowned on that. More waste, washing clothes after wearing them only once, though Sunny couldn’t deny she loved being able to slip into fresh clothes smelling of laundry detergent.
Sunny could no longer deny a lot of things.
Every day that passed took her further away from her life in Sanctuary. Some days it was almost as if she’d dreamed all those years living there. The things that had happened. Certainly her dreams were full of memories that Dr. Braddock had encouraged her to explore, remember. Write down. Talk about.
Purge.
So it wasn’t any wonder that with all that talk and the dreams that lingered occasionally after she’d woken, Sunny had trouble being certain of what was real and what was memory. When she felt as if she’d always lived here, it was so much easier to pretend everything else that had happened to her was like something from a movie or a book.
Except…that was a lot like saying vessel instead of body, wasn’t it? Calling people blemished. Making it easy to keep it separate from herself. From the truth.
She still needed the silence she found in meditation. Without Papa’s words to rely on for comfort, she had to find some other way to keep anxiety from overwhelming her. She’d never floated again the way she had in those first few days. It was the weight of the hot showers, the sweets, the mindless television, the dozens of wasteful, wordly things she allowed herself that kept her stuck so firmly to the ground. But she didn’t give up. She listened with her heart as often as she could, even when for days and days the voice never spoke a word.
Sunny paused first at Peace’s door to peek inside. Her small daughter slept sprawled the way her mother did, but not because she was trying to take up as much space as possible. Peace loved her white bed frame with the princess canopy of mesh Chris had hung for her. She slept there without any sort of self-consciousness or even fear—Peace would forget her life in Sanctuary sooner rather than later. Sunny saw it in her already.
Happy’s room wasn’t quite as decorated as his sister’s. Liesel had offered to paint it for him, to buy him the same sort of wall stickers Peace had picked out at the local Lowe’s, but in a boy-friendly pattern. He hadn’t wanted it. He’d hung his walls with his drawings, instead, and slept in plain blue sheets with a matching blue comforter that was all he wanted from the store. It would take him longer to forget.
Bliss batted at the front of Sunny’s shirt, and for a moment she considered unbuttoning it and allowing the baby to nurse, but the fact was, Bliss really didn’t need breast milk anymore. She was entirely on solid foods now, fruits and veggies and pasta. No meat yet, but she’d been making grabby hands at the meatballs Liesel had made for dinner a few nights before, and it wouldn’t be long before Bliss was eating everything along with all of them. Sunny slipped a finger in Bliss’s mouth, felt the tiny nubs of teeth both top and bottom that were trying to break through.
“You,” she said to the baby, “are growing up so fast.”
Sunny grabbed a few slices of bread and spread them with organic strawberry jelly while Bliss made grabby hands at those, too. Then a glass of her favorite orange juice—she still couldn’t get used to knowing that she could eat or drink whatever she wanted from the fridge whenever she wanted to. It was wrong to steal food from the cupboards and hide it away, she knew that, but her stomach still too well remembered being empty. And it wasn’t for her, she thought. It was for the children. If something went wrong, she couldn’t let them go hungry. Bliss’s feet drummed on Sunny’s thighs as she reached for the jelly toast, and Sunny broke off a small piece for the baby to gum.
“Hush,” she said to the baby, who didn’t hush the way both Happy and Peace would’ve. Well, Happy would. Peace was her own girl, and while part of Sunny was proud to see her young daughter so independent and sure of herself, another part reminded her that it was good for children to obey their parents.
Outside, the sun had risen higher, but the grass indeed was wet on her bare feet as she made her way across the yard. She left footprints behind her as she went, though Sunny didn’t bother looking over her shoulder to where she’d been. Only where she was going.
Liesel had always wanted a garden, she’d said. She just didn’t have the time for one. The soil in this neighborhood was rocky, thick with clay
, lacking nutrients for fruits or veggies. Squirrels and deer ate most decorative plants. Wildflowers grew like the weeds they were, but though Liesel had tried to plant roses once shortly after they’d built the house, only one raggedy bush survived. It didn’t bloom very well.
Sunny liked the garden anyway. She’d never spent time in the greenhouses, and though she’d done her share of weeding in the vegetable patch in Sanctuary, she hadn’t been the one to decide what to plant or how to take care of the plants. She thought Liesel had been disappointed to learn that, the way she’d been so surprised Sunny didn’t know how to cook. Sunny was better now, because Liesel had taught her, but since neither of them understood how to fix the garden it had stayed overgrown, sort of forlorn, full of rocks.
And of course, the angel.
The stone angel, weeping about what? Liesel hadn’t known, had looked to Chris for answers since he’d been the one to buy it for her. He’d only shrugged and said he bought it because he liked some program on television about a doctor with no real name. Liesel had laughed, shaking her head, told him he’d better not blink. She’d kissed him, making a private moment right there in front of Sunny like she was invisible, and it should’ve been fine since it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d watched a man and woman kissing, but somehow had been awkward.
Sunny could think of lots of reasons about why the angel was crying, but the one that felt the best to her was that the angel wept so Sunny didn’t have to. The angel’s voice, when she spoke, still sounded exactly like Sunny’s own, only from a Sunny who was a lot older and more mature, one who had a good handle on things in a way she really didn’t at all. She liked listening to the angel more than she’d ever enjoyed listening to Papa.
“Hush,” she told Bliss as the baby bounced on her lap, now reaching with those same grabby hands for the stone angel. “Listen, Bliss. With your heart.”
Sunny listened, too.
Chapter 26
Sunny’s first day. In a way, it would be Liesel’s first day, too. She’d heard the shower running way earlier than normal, and she knew Sunny had spent some time down in the garden again. That was becoming a habit, but Liesel supposed it was good that at least someone was getting something out of the garden other than guilt at how overgrown it was. She hoped whatever Sunny did down there brought her some comfort, anyway.
Now Chris had taken Sunny off to work at the coffee shop, and Liesel had the entire day at home alone with the kids. She’d been making mental lists since learning Sunny would definitely be working at least three and sometimes four days a week. Everything Liesel wanted to do with the kids, all the places she wanted to take them. Everything she’d planned for years to do when she had children of her own.
This was going to be fun.
Liesel’s days had been so taken up with everything that she’d never realized would need taking care of, she hardly had time to miss her job, though the idea that what she did wasn’t “work” still niggled at her sometimes, usually when she was pulling out her credit card to pay for one of the many, many things the kids needed. Her husband made appreciative noises about the lunches she’d begun packing for him, the dinners she spent hours preparing…when he made it home in time for them. But it wasn’t the same, always starting tasks and never finishing them. Not being the best at what she was doing, that was hard, too.
The past few months had been an adjustment for all of them, and sure, there were days when she opened her closet and looked inside at all the lovely clothes she used to wear, but the truth was, the dress code at Roy’s had been permanently casual. The days of Liesel in designer heels and a briefcase were long over before Sunny and the kids arrived.
Liesel had a new life now.
She hadn’t managed to get in a run this morning, not with everything being a little rushed and confused, but that was to be expected. She needed a shower, though. Couldn’t start the day without one, and she’d been so caught up in making sure Sunny had everything she needed for her first day there hadn’t been time for Liesel to jump in the shower before she left.
Bliss had already gone down for an unexpectedly early-morning nap, so Liesel popped her head into the den to tell Peace and Happy what she was going to do. “What are you guys watching?”
“Cartoons.” Happy pointed. “Tom and Jerry.”
“I used to watch Tom and Jerry.” Liesel smiled. Both of them were sitting so close to the TV there was no way they could possibly be comfortable. Liesel scooted Peace back. “Happy, sit back here. That’s too close. Listen—”
Peace’s gaze twitched her way, but Happy twisted completely to stare at her intently.
She’d forgotten exactly what “listen” meant to them. Not that she was entirely sure she understood. She gave him a smile she hoped would set him at ease. “I’m going to go up and take a shower. Then we’re going to do some fun things today, okay?”
Happy nodded. “What things?”
“I thought we could go to the park.” The next town had a huge wooden play park complete with castles and a pirate ship. Liesel had never taken Annabelle there because she’d been too old by the time it was built, but Liesel had often driven past it. “And later, there’s a great program at the library I think you’ll like a lot.”
Happy nodded again, but his eyes went wide and his lower lip trembled. “Do we have to?”
“No, of course we don’t have to, honey. But I think you and Peace would really like it.” Liesel paused, watching his reaction.
A lot had changed in the past few months, but even so, conversations with these kids and Sunny could be like navigating a minefield. There was still so much hidden. One wrong word could blow everything up.
“Happy, do you even know what the library is?”
“It’s Papa’s room with books in it. It’s where the door is to the silent room. You have to be quiet, quiet, quiet in the library.” Happy hesitated. He didn’t weep, but it was clear he was upset. “Quiet, or they put the tape on your lips.”
Liesel attempted an uneasy laugh, but it got stuck in her throat and came out sounding like gears grating. Just as well. Somehow she didn’t think Happy would really understand her attempt at humor to diffuse the pain.
“Honey, that’s not the same kind of library. This one has books, yes, but they’re for kids and grown-ups to borrow to read. Today they’re having a really neat show just for little kids like you and Peace. It’s with puppets.” Liesel wanted to hug him, but Happy wasn’t huggable. He’d let her, of course, but he’d stay stiff-armed, suffering rather than taking comfort from the embrace. “And no silent room. You have to be quiet so other people can enjoy the books, but not because you’re in any kind of trouble. I promise. No tape. Nothing to hurt you.”
He looked so relieved, Liesel wanted to cry. “Not in trouble?”
“No, honey. Of course not.” She did hug him then, just briefly. She kissed the top of his head and caught a whiff of sour little-boy smell. “Oof. You need a bath, kiddo.”
Peace tore her attention from the TV long enough to bounce. “Me, too? Me, too! In the big tub? Pwease?”
Liesel laughed. “Sure. Okay. Both of you, in the big tub. Let’s go.”
Bliss needed a bath, too, after the huge diaper blowout she had when she woke up. By the time Liesel bathed all three kids and grabbed a shower herself, everyone was hungry. That meant what the hobbits called “second breakfast,” because one thing she did know was that it was stupid to head out the door with children who were already whiny with hunger.
She’d planned to get to the playground by 10:00 a.m. They pulled into the parking lot just before noon. Who planned a playground without a single bit of shade? she wondered sourly as she hauled Peace out of her car seat, then helped a squirming Happy get unbuckled before finally pulling a grumpy Bliss from her infant seat. Not a tree in sight, a
nd with the sun directly overhead, the only shadows were inside the castle and the pirate ship…both places she couldn’t fit inside with the baby.
As it turned out, also places neither Happy nor Peace would go into. Though the playground teemed with roaming packs of children who didn’t seem to care about the heat, Sunny’s kids wouldn’t leave Liesel’s side. She’d found a spot on one of the red metal benches close to the sandbox where Bliss could sit and dig. And eat the sand.
“Go play,” she said irritably to the older kids as she stopped Bliss from putting a second fistful of sand in her mouth. “We came here so you can play.”
When she looked up, Peace was sucking her finger and looking with wide eyes at the swings. Happy was staring at a group of boys playing tag in and on the huge castle structure. But neither of them were moving.
Oh, shit. They didn’t…they didn’t know how to play with other kids?
“Guys,” Liesel said so they’d look at her. “You don’t have to stick by my side. You can go play with the other kids.”
“We don’t know those kids,” Happy said.
Peace took a hesitant step and gave the swings another longing look, but Happy put his hand on her arm. She pouted, but stayed put.
“You can go meet them, Happy. Go ahead. I have to stay here with Bliss.”
Happy shook his head, small fingers gripping down so tight on his sister’s arm she whimpered and tried to pull it away.
“Happy, let go of her.” Liesel pried his fingers off Peace’s arm, then rubbed the red marks and tried to soothe the little girl, who was sniffling. “Why would you do that? Peace, honey, if you want to go play on the swings, you can. I’m right here.”
