Hidden Scars (11 page)

“Are you okay? I’ve never seen you act so peculiar.”

“Peculiar? What an ugly thing to say.” She gave a half-hearted laugh. “And all this time I thought we were best friends.”

“We are, but—”

“Come on.” She took her purse from me and struck out, taking long steady strides. “I’ll buy you a Coke when we get back.”

“Becky?” I ran to catch up. “We’re right here at the cafeteria. Don’t you at least want to check?”

“No. I’m positive it’s in my room. I don’t know where my head is sometimes.”

“Me either,” I mumbled under my breath.

“I heard that.”

When we made it back to the dorm, I intended to follow Becky to her room in hopes her wallet was there, but she had other plans.

“Let’s go by your room first, so you can get rid of that armload of books.”

“But your room is down the hall. Mine’s on the third floor.”

She shrugged. “That’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Becky…”

“Don’t argue with me.”

As we climbed the stairs, she rummaged her pockets and pulled out some change. “Sure hope I’ve got enough for our drinks.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not really thirsty.”

“Well I am.” She took off for the lounge once we reached the third floor. “Dump those books and come on.”

By the time I tossed everything on the bed and grabbed some change off the nightstand, Becky had disappeared.

With every step, I grumbled about her bizarre behavior. Something was up, and I knew it. There were too many cars still in the parking lot for this place to be so quiet.

I jerked the door open.

“Surprise!”

Streamers and balloons hung from the ceiling. A semicircle of girls stood next to a table holding a luscious white cake with pink writing. My eyes watered as I read the icing print, Congratulations Morgan and Chuck.

Becky stepped beside me laughing, then leaned over and whispered. “Sorry for being so pee-cu-liar, Miss Smarty-Britches.”

“I have to admit, I was really beginning to worry about you.”

A familiar voice spoke behind me. “I hope you won’t mind a bunkmate tonight.”

“Janet!” I threw my arms around her neck. “I can’t believe you’re here.” I reached for her hand and faced the rest of the girls. “I can’t believe any of it. How’d y’all put this together so quick and without me finding out?”

Jennifer spoke up, “You were too busy to notice.”

Wendy patted the couch. “Come over here and open your gifts while we cut the cake.”

As soon as I sat, Ann picked up a gift and placed it in my lap. “Mine first.”

While I peeled off the decorative blue and pink wrapping, snickering began. I lifted a flimsy white nightgown from its box. Someone whistled, followed by an outburst of laughter.

“You get to wear it, but it’s really for Chuck,” Mimi Clair clapped.

My face grew hot. “I don’t know what to say.”

Paula handed me the next gift. “And here’s a little something to wear on your wedding day.”

Again, warmth radiated up my neck. “Well, I’d like to think it would cover more than the last outfit, but I don’t see how that’s possible when the package fits in my hand.”

The room erupted again with laughter.

“You’ll find out. Open it,” Paula insisted.

I removed a blue garter from the wrappings.

“Another gift for Chuck,” Mimi sang out.

“Hold it up and look this way, Morgan.” The flash on Becky’s camera left spots dancing before my eyes.

Then she passed me a silver foil wrapped box. “It’s nothing fancy.”

I tore away the paper. “A mixer! Thanks, Becky.”

“No more lumpy potatoes.” She winked. A secret only she and I shared.

After I unwrapped a cookbook, an apron, and various kitchen gadgets, Janet reached over and presented me with a large white box. “I saved mine for last. It’s from Mother and me. We hope you like it.”

“From the cradle to the grave.” Janet always said about our friendship.

I broke the taped edges, lifted the lid, and drew back the white tissue paper. “Oh, Janet.” I ran my hand over the white, woven material.

“Hold it up. We want to see.”

I stood and held a simple, but beautiful, white A-line dress.

“You always said it was important for you to wear white on your wedding day, remember? But you didn’t want anything too frou-frou, so we decided on this style. Then we narrowed the material choices down to brocade, fancy cotton weave, or organza.”

“Which one is this?”

“Brocade.”

“It’s perfect.”

I hugged her tight. “Thank you. Thank you all.”

Some of the girls began to gather bows and wrapping paper. Others talked and had second pieces of cake. I focused on the girls as a group, then individually. Two months ago I’d arrived at Midway with only one thought in mind—escape. I came here with a huge wall securely in place around me. A wall built for self-protection, which very few people penetrated. My self-worth had been shattered through years of name-calling and physical abuse. I’d become good at masking the pain and covering up the evil of others. What did these girls see in me? What did I have to offer in return? Why would they befriend someone so broken?

Panic gripped me. How would they respond when they discovered I’d lied to them?

Janet and I stayed up most of the night laughing and talking and, with everyone gone for the weekend, slept in. Since the cafeteria had surely stopped serving breakfast, she and I decided to take a quick shower then check out Eddie’s.

“Morgan, there’s someone downstairs to see you.” Janet’s voice echoed through the large community bathroom.

After turning the water off, I removed the shower cap and ran my fingers through my hair. “How do you know?”

“Didn’t you hear it? Somebody paged overhead. I’m almost dressed. You want me to go see who it is?”

“That’s all right. I won’t be but a minute.”

“What if it’s your mother?”

I clutched the towel to my chest. “She’d never have me paged. Besides, I can’t imagine her taking off from work on a Saturday morning.” Or would she?

“Maybe it’s Chuck?”

“No. He’s already left for work by now.” I pushed my arms through the sleeves of a red, plaid shirtdress and buttoned the front. “I’ll be right back.”

A guy with broad shoulders and dark wavy hair stood when I walked into the waiting area off the lobby.

I could have guessed all day but never in a month of Sundays would Richard Webster have come to mind. Mom had tried several times to get me to go out with him. “His family is well known and respected in the community,” she would say. Maybe so, but Richard held no admiration in my eyes.

I held my head up and my back straight in an attempt to cover an uneasy feeling. “Hi. What brings you here?”

He smiled and looped a thumb in the front pocket of his Levi’s. “Your mother. She told me you stayed on campus most weekends, and that I should come by sometimes. Dad had an excellent cotton crop this year, so I’m on my way to Memphis to pick out a new car.” He winked. “I thought maybe you’d enjoy spending the day with yours truly.”

I cringed at his presumptuous attitude, but also felt a twinge of pity. “I’m sorry you’ve gone out of your way. I wish you’d called first. Janet’s here for the weekend, and we have plans.”

“Janet Barnes?” His voice turned cool and crisp.

“That’s right.”

“Hmm.” He ran well-manicured fingers through his hair. “Well, how about tomorrow night? I’m sure you must get bored here. Things look pretty dead. Why don’t I drive up and take you for a spin? We could—”

“I don’t think so. But thanks.”

He stepped closer. “I’m not taking no for an answer. Your mother said to tell you, you’ve got her permission.”

“No.” I glared straight into his eyes.

“What’s the matter, Morgan? Don’t you think you’d have a good time?” His eyes shifted to other parts of my body.

Anger and humiliation radiated from my face.

Catching me off guard, he reached up and placed his hand behind my neck then pulled me forward. He spoke into my ear. “Most girls jump at a chance to go out with me.”

I knocked his hand away and stepped back. “Well, it’s too bad I’m
not
‘most girls’. Good luck with your car shopping.” I turned and walked away.

“Morgan, wait.”

Everything inside me screamed, “Run!” But I kept a steady pace. I didn’t relax until I reached the top of the stairs.

Janet glanced up from my music composition book when I rushed into the room. “That didn’t take long.”

“Longer than I wanted.”

“What do you mean?”

I flopped onto the bed next to her. “Richard Webster was here. He asked me to go to Memphis with him.”

She tossed the book to the side. “Yuck. Why?”

I took a deep breath and blew out the air slowly to calm my agitation. “It sounded like Mom encouraged him to come.”

“Doesn’t she know about his reputation with girls? I thought you told her?”

“I tried. Marsha tried. She doesn’t believe it.”

“Right. She can think the worst about her own children but not someone else’s—” Janet reached for my hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I shook my head. “Not if their family has money. But hey, don’t worry about it. Let’s go get breakfast.” I reached for a sweater in the closet, but instead pulled out the dress Janet and her mother made for me. “Just looking at this makes everything seem so real. It’s going to happen.” A tingling sensation ran up my spine. “Think about it…the next time we see each other, I’ll be Mrs. Chuck Mathews.”

“You mean, Mrs. Charles Jefferson Mathews.”

“Hmm…you’re right. I’ve never called him Charles before. It sounds so…strange.”

“Morgan, you have a visitor in the lobby,” Mrs. Henderson’s voice rang out over the intercom.

Janet arched both eyebrows. “He won’t take no for an answer, will he?”

“I don’t know, but this time, we’re both going.” I nodded toward the door.

When Janet and I walked into the lobby, I exhaled upon seeing Kyle. But my diversion was short lived. His trademark smile was absent.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, unsure I wanted to hear the answer. He didn’t respond. “Kyle, you’re scaring me.” I searched his eyes, but he wouldn’t hold my gaze. My heart pounded as if trying to force its way from my chest. “Is it Chuck?”

“Morgan, there’s been an accident.”

My lungs stopped working. The room began to spin. I reached to grab his arms but held only his shirt. “He’s not…” My throat clogged and wouldn’t allow me to complete the question.

He shook his head. “He’s been taken to the Bradford County Hospital. From what the family has been told, a car pulled out in front of him outside Greer early this morning. Chuck left the road to avoid a head-on collision. The embankment was steep. The car rolled. It’s totaled. They say the other driver had been drinking, but wasn’t hurt.”

“I’ve…I’ve got to get there. I’ve got to get to the hospital.” I darted toward the doorway to the hall. “It won’t take me long to pack a few things.”

“You can stay at my house tonight.” I heard Janet say, but her next words, “how bad is he,” jarred my attention back to Kyle.

He looked at me. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. I came straight here. But the family’s concerned.”

From the moment Kyle’s news sank in, I began to pray for God’s healing touch on Chuck. My stomach quivered like a school of fish swimming against the current.
God, please let him be okay
.

Within minutes, Janet and I had our bags packed and were back downstairs. For the first time since arriving at Midway, I signed out in the logbook indicating I was leaving the campus. Janet’s and Kyle’s cars waited in front of the dorm, loaded with our luggage.

“Why don’t y’all follow me to the city limits of Greer, then Morgan can ride with me to the hospital,” Kyle suggested.

“We’re not stopping, Kyle. We’ll follow you all the way in. I don’t want to leave Morgan.”

“We need to hurry. It’s a two-and-a-half hour drive. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there.”

Every stoplight in town had it in for us. Every mile crawled by at an infant’s pace, though the speedometer showed Janet driving well over the speed limit. We spoke very little, but I talked nonstop to God.

When I spotted the hospital, waves of nausea slammed into me, but by the time we parked and ran toward the front entrance, calm replaced it.

Kyle checked at the main desk. Chuck had been admitted to the third floor.

“That’s a good sign, don’t you think?” Janet spoke as we walked toward the elevator. “At least he’s not in one of the units.”

I didn’t answer. All I wanted was to see him and know he was all right. When the doors opened and we walked toward the nurses’ station, someone called Kyle by name. Chuck’s brother, Marvin, walked in our direction.

“How is he?” Kyle and I asked simultaneously.

“He’s in a lot of pain.”

“At least he’s awake.” Janet remained positive.

“Can I see him, Marvin? Just for a moment?”

“Morgan, he’s beat-up pretty badly. He’s got stitches inside his mouth, on his face, and the top of his head… A cracked rib, a broken arm. The doctor’s mostly concerned about his head.”

“I’ve got to see him.”

Chuck’s brother gave Kyle a concerned look.

“She’ll be okay, Marvin. I’ll go with her.”

“I’ll wait here,” Janet whispered.

Kyle and I followed Marvin down the hall and stopped outside what I assumed was Chuck’s room. “Let me go in first and make sure he’s presentable. Maybe I can talk Mother into going home or at least getting something to eat.”

After the door closed behind Marvin, Kyle turned to me. “Morgan, if we get in there and it’s too much for you, tug on my hand, and we’ll leave, okay?”

I glanced at Kyle and nodded while biting the edge of my thumbnail.

The door opened. Mrs. Mathews passed me without acknowledging my presence, and then Marvin was there, motioning us to enter. I took a deep breath, forced a smile, and took Kyle’s hand as we stepped inside. Even with everything Marvin had told us, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. A jolt of fear ran through my body. Kyle let go of my hand and gripped my shoulders. I reached for Chuck’s hand.