Vulnerable (14 page)

“Where are you?” She hardly recognized her own voice.

“We’re just leaving the station now, Elise. Go back to your parents’ house.”

“I’m just down the street,” she managed to say. “I’ll come to you.”

“You won’t. Go back to your parents’ house.”

Elise threw the phone across the seat and burst into tears. She dashed a hand at them to clear her vision and then turned the car around, vaguely registering the sound of a car horn blaring indignantly as she carelessly pulled the U-turn. It took forever to drive back and into her parents’ yard, and by the time she parked and made herself get out, her father’s pickup pulled in behind her. She didn’t look that way, forcing her legs to carry her across the yard and up the steps. She walked right past her mother, who was standing just inside the door, looking stricken. Elise was careful not to touch her in any way, almost sliding along the wall to get past, when Ross caught up to her. He put an arm around her waist and half carried her into the room they had been given for the duration of their visit. It was her old room, not that it gave her any comfort. Elise pulled away from him and went to the far corner near the window where she sank down and curled up in a ball, covering her face with both hands.

Ross followed her and knelt down, reaching out to touch her hair. “Elise.”

She couldn’t think, couldn’t process the deluge of emotions. She had come back here, feeling safe with Ross, to tell her folks that she was getting married again, this time to a wonderful man. She would never have come back for any other reason, unless to bury her parents. She hadn’t come for her sister’s weddings, as much as that bothered her, because the memories were too fresh and painful. She hadn’t come back for her Nana’s funeral, which pricked her conscience, although the old woman hadn’t been lucid for years, and hadn’t known Elise from Adam since she was ten. Her life was no longer here, but she had come back, because Ross had willed it, and then he had gone and put himself in danger because of her.

“Elise.” Ross’s hands tried to grip her upper arms and pull her to her feet. She flailed at him and sobbed. He wrestled her up and put her on the bed, dropping his weight over her to keep her from getting away from him.

“You need to stop, honey. Take a breath. It’s okay!”

She heard someone scream and scream again, and realized it was her. Ross stopped her cries by crushing her lips with his, taking her pain and rage into himself. It served to bring her sanity back. Elise made herself relax and tried to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of order. Ross drew back slowly and took part of his weight off of her.

“Elise?”

“Get off me.”

Ross’s face literally blanked in shock, and he carefully sat up and pulled away from her.

“Go away.” Elise thought that if she had to look at him one more minute, she would punch his stupid head.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“You need to leave this room and leave me alone, or you can find yourself another submissive, Ross. You put me in a place that I may never be able to forgive you for, so go.”

Ross looked thunderous, and she quaked for a moment but remained resolute. He stood and stretched to his full height, but she refused to be intimidated. He stalked from the room, closing the door behind him with quiet menace, and she drew a pillow against her chest, holding onto it for dear life, before burying her face in it and letting go. He was okay, and they were leaving in the morning. He had shaken her world to its very foundation, and she didn’t know what she would do when they returned to Austin, but he was okay, and so was her dad.

She heard doors open and close and voices rise and fall, then the sound of dishes clattering. Her family was eating her celebratory meal with her fiancé, and she felt more hollow than she’d felt in a very long time. Her innate good manners urged her to get up and join them, not seen to be sulking like a child in her room, and Elise swung her legs over to set her feet on the floor. She quietly opened the door and made her way to the only bathroom. She idly wondered if Ross had registered the difference between the financial status of her family compared to his and rolled her eyes. Of course he had. Ross noticed everything. She washed her face with cold water and noted her swollen eyes and red nose, but her family had seen her in worse shape, as had Ross. She pulled the covered elastic tie from her hair and ran her fingers through it, then dragged the bulk of it back to secure it again. She straightened her clothes and then went out to face everyone, including her maybe fiancé.

All eyes turned to her, but it was the pale-blue ones that transfixed her. They were somber and held a trace of uncertainty. Elise took the empty chair and accepted the bowl of potatoes from Kathy who gave her a sympathetic smile. She put food on her plate and pushed it around, listening to the conversation that flowed around her. Her sisters’ husbands appeared oblivious to the tension, because after inquiring after her headache and offering felicitations on her upcoming nuptials, they applied themselves to their plates and talked about the weather and how it would affect the crops. Her dad told her gruffly that he was sorry she hadn’t felt well and was glad she had been able to come out and eat with them. He didn’t remark on her lack of response.

Her mom looked old and tired, and Elise regretted her harsh words, although she knew that her mom could have dissuaded her father from his reckless trip to that gas station. It was a matter of honor, she had come to conclude, and fuck that nonsense. Fuck honor. Her father and Ross were far more important than any honor, and her belly churned with rage. This had been a mistake, and she should have known better. The exact responsibility of the mistake wasn’t yet clear to her.

Elise accepted the frothy dessert her mother had prepared in their honor that very afternoon. There was that word again. Honor. Elise wanted to throw her portion right at someone’s thick head and gripped the edge of the table until the impulse passed. Ross had participated in the conversation, but Elise had felt his eyes on her much of the time and picked up on the tension in his voice. She wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable chat before bed, but by then, surely she would know what she was going to say, and do.

They all sat around in the small living room after the meal once the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher. The men had gone outside to look at some piece of equipment in the back of Stan’s truck while the women cleaned up. It struck Elise as so markedly different than the life she lived with Ross. They shared the scut work, as Ross referred to it, but they both slipped into the roles that existed in her parents’ home, even in this short period of time. Her mom took care of the house, and her dad made sure he made enough money to provide for them. Women’s work and men’s work. The men’s work had included a showdown with the man who had harmed one of their women. God. Her whole body vibrated with tension, and she heard herself refusing to play their traditional card games, pleading a headache. That seemed to be a signal to everyone. Cindy made her husband, Bruce, haul her up from her chair and took her leave as if it were her last, announcing that he could drive her home and get her car the next day. Stan and Kathy soon followed, with Kathy hugging Elise and promising to see her before they left. Elise said good night to her parents, forcing herself to brush a kiss across their respective cheeks while avoiding a hug. Ross rose with her and said his own good nights and followed her down the hallway.

Elise detoured into the bathroom and used the facilities before brushing her teeth. She ignored Ross, standing patiently in the hall and walked to their room while he went into the bathroom. She found one of her old nightgowns, tucked away in a bottom drawer, smelling like fabric that had been washed and put away a long time ago. She wore nothing to bed with Ross unless she didn’t feel well or was menstruating, or he asked her to put on some specific lingerie, but she needed something between them tonight. She climbed into the double bed and pulled the covers up and waited. Ross came in, his hair damp from his ablutions, his shirt unbuttoned to his waist. She looked at his face searchingly and scanned his hands and the part of his chest that she could see, but saw nothing untoward. He stripped off but left his boxers on, and her heart plummeted. He had come to understand, although it remained to be seen if they were on the same page. After turning on the little bedside light, Ross flipped off the one overhead, and got into bed. The size of it forced close proximity, and Elise sat up and curled her legs under her in order to face him, while he leaned back against the headboard. The silence lengthened and pulsed between them. Ross finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, Elise. Can you forgive me?”

She had expected many things, but not that. The words tumbled from her lips. “You aren’t a stupid man, Ross! Well, my dad isn’t either, but he’s prone to blindly following the customs around here. You aren’t, though! What in God’s name were you thinking?”

Ross shrugged, although his eyes had narrowed during her tirade. The slight movement infuriated her, and she grabbed her pillow and flung it at him. Ross deflected it and hauled her against him by grabbing her wrist.

“I must say I like this display of temper far more than that reaction you treated me to this afternoon, Elise.”

She struggled against his grip and hissed at him. “Don’t you goddamn well minimize this, Ross, or make it even more about me. You could have been hurt, killed even. And my dad, too. Then where would I be? How could you have done that?”

He immediately softened and released her, although he stroked the back of her hand. “I’m not sure, Elise, truly. I had a couple of shots of your dad’s special brew, and we got to talking about your ex-husband, and the next thing I knew, we were tooling down the road to go and have a chat with him.”

“You drank my dad’s home brew? Oh my God. You are both insane. And my mother is worse than either of you. It must have been her darkest fantasy, because she hates Terry more than anything.”

Ross actually cut his eyes away and studied his fingertips.

“What?”

“She told us not to go, that it would upset you, and Dave pulled the man-of-the-castle thing and told her not to interfere. It inspired me, although now I realize I wasn’t firing on all cylinders, and I ignored her entreaties and went along on the mission. Your dad is quite convincing when he gets going.”

Elise felt exhausted, like her emotions had rolled her flat. She got up and went to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To see my mother. I treated her badly because she tried to exonerate you and the man who sired me. If I had the strength I’d smack you.”

Ross had the good sense not to say anything, or maybe he was too surprised.

* * * *

Elise found her mom rocking on the porch, the katydids and tree frogs making background music to the creak and thump of wood on wood. Elise curled up on the adjoining wicker settee and looked at her. Her mother made a little moue and lifted one shoulder.

“I suppose he told you.”

“Why do we have this need to take everything on ourselves, Mom? Why did you feel you needed to cover for them, make like you supported that stupid idea? What if Terry had hurt one or both? Or even called the sheriff? What would that have done to our relationship? Did you think about that?”

“I didn’t want things to screw up between you and Ross. He’s a sensible boy, and I know that if he could mess Terry up, if there came an opportunity to do it legal, or at least without real problems, he’d take it. But Dave just had to get liquored up and be the man. I can usually redirect him, but he knows more than we realized, and I think he needed to do this. He’s your dad, and he thinks he let you down.”

Elise wondered what else would hit her up alongside the head. “Where is he?”

“He’s lying in bed with his face to the wall. I don’t much care, although things’ll be better in the morning I expect.”

Elise stood once again and went to her parents’ room. She knocked softly and then opened the door. The light was still on, and her father rolled over to look at her, his softening torso covered by an old wifebeater shirt. Elise hated those undershirts, because her dad would never raise a hand to his wife, and it was like false advertising. He looked terribly sad, and Elise crossed over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Daddy? What do you want to know?”

“I think I know too much, my girl. I thought Terry Cooper was a good man. Your mother tried to tell me different, but I didn’t listen. I wanted a good match for you, and Marjorie married me when she was seventeen, so I thought it was like history repeating itself. But people talk, even them damn Coopers, and I know you was maltreated. Deviants.”

He reached to the night table and fumbled to pull a tissue out of the box that sat there, honking into it before wiping his eyes.

“That man of yours now, that Ross, well, I don’t think I’m wrong about him, and we got to sipping, and he told me he knew what happened to you. So I got thinking and sipping some more and then we made a road trip. Your mother is real perturbed, Elise. I’m in the shit for sure.”

Elise reached to hug him, and he clung to her for a moment. Her dad wasn’t a demonstrative person, so she knew what it meant for him to hug her back.

“I’m going to go sit with mom, and maybe by tomorrow things will be okay,” she said.

“You sound just like your mom, little girl. Good night.”

Elise turned off the light as she exited the room and rejoined her mother. The bugs drove them inside within a few minutes, and they each wordlessly took a couch, dragging a couple of crocheted blankets from the chest in the corner as their bedding. She wanted things to be okay in the morning but had found out what it was to be truly vulnerable. Her life was so intertwined with Ross’s that even the idea of something happening to him had devastated her. She either had to surrender to it and accept the fact that she would have him for as long as it was meant to be, or run, and she had promised Ross to never run from him again.