Wishing Pearl (14 page)

“Well, you’ve had the grand tour. You’ll meet some of the girls and staff in a few minutes. You basically know what we’re about here at Diamond Estates. But I want to share something with you—something that might surprise you both.” Ben pursed his lips and rocked back in his chair. After a moment he looked in Olivia’s eyes with a solemn expression. “If this weren’t just a visit—if you had come here planning to stay with us—I’m sorry to say, I’d have to send you back home with your mom.”

Mom gasped.

Olivia’s eyes widened.
Hah!
Maybe there was a God after all. And maybe He
did
answer prayers. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud.

“Why is that, Ben?” Mom’s attempt at an even tone sounded strained.

Don’t be too disappointed, Mom. Guess you’re stuck with me
. Olivia smirked and raised an eyebrow.
I’m not even good enough for this place
.

“Well, Mrs. Whitford, I hope you can understand.” Ben pulled on his square chin, accentuating the deep cleft. “We’re here to find the diamonds in the rough. We work hard to uncover God’s finest jewels by chiseling at the layers of pain, sin, fear, and whatever else is piled on top of the beauty. We are completely ineffective at that work when the pearl wants to stay in its oyster, so to speak.”

“But—”

Ben cut Mom off and turned to Olivia. “Basically, dear, you have to want to be here. You have to want Jesus to get ahold of your life.
You
have to want to change.”

Mom closed her mouth.

“There are girls all over the country who come here because they are desperate to let go of their messed-up lives and give God complete control.” Ben tipped back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. “Not only will we not fill one of their spots in the program with a girl who doesn’t want it, but we also can’t let a bad attitude permeate the house and negatively affect the girls who have come to do the hard work and surrender themselves fully. Sometimes negativity sneaks in the back door when we’re unaware. But we can’t just stand back and welcome it into our midst.”

Olivia parted two of the vertical blinds with her fingers and peered out at the bright, snowy mountain-scape while he spoke. Did she want to change her life? What about God? Maybe it was time to let Him back in. Parts of her heart felt hollow and longed for those long-ago Sunday school days when she’d memorized Bible verses and sang silly songs about floods and armies that somehow made her feel close to Jesus. But He didn’t answer her prayers then—when she needed Him most. And her prayers in years since had continuously been ignored. Why bother turning to Him now?

“Can you understand that, Olivia?” Ben spoke in a near whisper.

The metal strips fell back against the window. Olivia looked from her mom to Ben and shrugged. “I guess.”

Ben frowned and held her gaze for a few moments. He blinked first. “Mrs. Whitford, you should pray—pray for Olivia, her decisions, her faith. The staff and I here at Diamond Estates, we’ll pray, too. I sense in my heart that there’s something truly special about your daughter. That the Lord is calling out to her. Unfortunately, this program requires dedication, and it isn’t effective when girls come kicking and screaming.”

Mom’s brimming eyes begged Olivia. “I’m so fearful for your future—for what you’re going to do next. Don’t you have
any
thing to say?”

What could she tell them? Did Mom expect her to beg? That wasn’t happening. The conversation needed to end. Now.

“When’s dinner?” Olivia’s aloof response probably came off as very rude, but the conversation had grown too heavy and she felt like a kitten cornered by rabid dogs. Was she expected to make this easy for them? After all, she hadn’t asked for the visit, and she certainly didn’t want to stay. This wasn’t her idea, and it wasn’t her job to make
them
feel at ease.

Mom turned to Ben, her shoulders slumped, and lifted both hands as if to say,
I give up
.

With a nod and a resigned sigh, he checked his watch. “Dinner is now. Shall we?” He stood and waited for them to rise then led them from the room. An awkward silence reverberated through the hallway on the walk to the dining room until Ben cleared his throat. “Mrs. Whitford, please don’t worry too much. Everything takes time—at least the things worth waiting for. Sadly, girls often have to hit rock bottom before they’re ready to reach up a hand for help. We’ll pray for some kind of intervention—a miracle—before it comes to that.”

Olivia raised her eyebrows.
Hello? I’m still here
. She resisted the urge to wave her hands in front of their faces. Instead, she listened to the
click-clack
of boots on the stone floor—hers and Ben’s. The
tip-tap
of Mom’s stilettos sounded silly in the enormity of the old building.

Ben stepped in front of them to allow a pack of three girls, led by the blond from the bathroom, to pass in the other direction.

Mom tugged at Olivia’s hand. “You’re being so rude.” She spoke through clenched teeth.

“Mom, shh.” Olivia peeked back at the girls. The two followers were giggling—at her, most likely. How embarrassing. Then her eyes locked with the leader of the pack. Her ponytail had swung around and hung down her front like Lady Godiva. But it was those brown eyes that caught Olivia’s attention. They were full of anger. For what? Olivia hadn’t done anything to her except try to help. It wasn’t Olivia’s fault that she’d been crying. From the way it looked in the bathroom, someone had hurt her pretty badly. And it sure wasn’t Olivia.

Just as quickly as the hate flashed in her eyes, it disappeared. She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and pranced away, the other two close at her heels.

“Here we are.” Ben opened the door and ushered them into the noisy room. He waved at the dozens of girls who shouted a cheery greeting to him. At least he seemed well liked—unless something in the water made them act like zombies.

Ben steered them to the cafeteria line where he handed them each a plate. Mom went right for the salad bar. Olivia hung back and surveyed the room. Clusters of four to six teenage girls of every size, shape, and ethnicity shared the tables. Some eyed her suspiciously, some just looked on in interest, some completely ignored her. Those were the ones who made her nervous.

Ben helped her select some food and then walked her to a table of three of the most blatant ignorers who hadn’t even glanced at her yet. He set down her tray in front of an empty seat and slid the chair back for her to sit down.

Great. Could he make this any more awkward?

“Just enjoy yourself here with the girls, Olivia. Your mom and I are going to talk privately over dinner.” Ben smiled at each girl. “Introduce yourselves and make our guest feel welcome, okay?”

Were grown-ups always so clueless?

“So. Whatchu in for?” A tiny girl with a thick Spanish accent chewed on a toothpick and narrowed her eyes to suspicious slits.

Was she serious? “Excuse me? I’m not
in
for anything.”

“Ju-Ju. Come on. Give her a break.” A beautiful girl—like an African princess—turned to Olivia. “I’m Tricia. What’s your name?” Rather than reaching out for a handshake, she took a bite of her lasagna.

“I’m Olivia. It’s nice to meet you, Tricia.” With the emphasis on
Tricia
. She turned to Ju-Ju and smirked. “I’m not
in
for anything. In fact, I’m going home tomorrow.”

“You’ll be back.” A pretty girl with long shiny brown hair and sparkly blue eyes spoke with confidence. “I’m Skye.” She reached out her hand.

Olivia accepted the handshake. “No, I’m quite sure I won’t be back.” What did Skye know anyway? Olivia blew on her french onion soup.

Tricia, Skye, and Ju-Ju looked from one to the other like they shared a secret. “It’s too late. You’ve fallen under
the spell.”
Skye wiggled her fingers like a magician as she spoke.

“The spell?” The place got creepier every minute.

“God’s will is like a spell. You’re on the path, and He ain’t about to let you go now. You might as well not fight it.” Skye chuckled. “Unfortunately for the three of us … we had to learn the hard way.”

“Got that right.” Tricia’s eyes clouded over as she looked out the window. “If only I’d known then what I know—”

Ju-Ju snorted. “Oh, get real. Like either of you would have done a single thing differently. You”—she pointed at Tricia—”wanted the boys’ attention a little too much, and you’d have done anything to get it. And you”—Ju-Ju jerked her thumb at Skye—”hated your preacher papa too much and would do anything to get back at him. You were both going down no matter what.” She shrugged. “So what? You’re here now, and she’s going home. But she’ll be back soon.” She gestured toward Olivia. “After
Diablo
does a little more work on her.”

Tricia shuddered. “You say that so coldly … so matter-of-factly. Like it’s not important.”

“It doesn’t really matter though, does it?” Ju-Ju shrugged again. “La
chica
could change her mind, beg to stay … but she won’t. Which is fine. It’s her journey. But mark my words”—Ju-Ju pointed at Olivia—”you’ll be back.”

Over my dead body
.

T
his party’s a bust. We’re out of here.” Jordyn’s blood-red eyes shot daggers toward her boyfriend who stood across the room, flirting with another girl. She jerked Olivia away from a pot-smoking cluster where she’d just taken a huge hit. “Brett’s being such a jerk. I’m totally through with him, and I want to leave right now.” Jordyn stormed toward the front door.

Olivia nodded and followed, holding in her breath for as long as she could. When she ran out of oxygen, she blew the smoke from her lungs and gasped for fresh air. “Hold it a sec. Where’s Bailey?” Olivia searched the faces in the dark room, hoping Bailey might be in better condition to drive than Jordyn seemed. Olivia obviously had no business getting behind the wheel either.

“She’s not coming. She said she’s staying over with Aaron.” Jordyn scowled. “Right there’s another couple who should break up. Like Aaron isn’t cheating on her.
Please
. I’m through with men—I guess Bailey’ll have to find out the hard way that they aren’t worth her time.” Jordan tripped over the threshold of the front door and stumbled out onto the porch. The heel of her right shoe snapped off and flew into the bushes. She clutched the railing until she steadied herself.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Olivia watched Jordyn’s unsteady swagger down the driveway. Not good. “We could always call a cab.”

“No. There’s no way I’m leaving my car here overnight. That would mean I’d have to deal with Brett tomorrow when I came to pick it up. No thank you.” Jordyn waved a hand back and forth. “Besides, what would we tell our parents if we got dropped off in a taxi?” She shook her arms and jumped up and down a few times. “I’ll just suck it up. It’ll be fine. Not like it’s the first time I’ve driven after a few drinks.” She almost toppled over as she climbed into the driver’s seat and pressed a button, trying to unlock the door for Olivia, but the window buzzed down instead. And then back up. It took her three tries to find the right one to pop the lock.

A
few
drinks? Olivia shivered outside the car with her hand on the door handle. Should she refuse to get in? Pretend she felt sick? Maybe she should call Jordyn’s dad to come get them. He seemed pretty cool about stuff. He could pick them up and let them crash in the shed. But Olivia didn’t have his number, and she doubted Jordyn would give it to her. It seemed like Jordyn drank and then drove every single week—maybe she was used to it and
would
be fine. But when would her luck run out?

The window lowered an inch. “You coming or what?”

“I’m coming.” She slid into her seat and pulled the belt tight around her as she hooked the latch into place. Everything would be okay—or it wouldn’t. Didn’t really matter either way.

Feeling queasy from the mixture of pot and alcohol, Olivia put her head back against the seat and closed her eyes while Jordyn peeled out of the driveway.
No, no. Don’t sleep
. Olivia lifted her head with a wobbly neck. She should talk to Jordyn, keep her awake. But Olivia’s eyes felt like they had anchors on them, weighing them down. It was so hard to stay awake. She had to try. Maybe she’d rest her eyes for just a moment and then sit up and help Jordyn stay awake for the rest of the drive.

Everything went black.

“Start an IV. We’ll sedate her while we repair …” The unfamiliar voices went in and out of clarity.

Where am I?
Olivia tried to open her eyes, but the lids seemed to be superglued shut. People talked around her—she felt the tingle of their touch sometimes—on her arm, her foot, her shoulder. Her head buzzed and her ears rang—but nothing hurt. Where was she? She pulled strength from her deepest recesses and tried to fight against the urge to drift off again.

“Two more stitches should …”

Stitches? Wake up. Wake up
. Her eyes still refused to open. What did she remember last? Out with Jordyn and Bailey. The party. Jordyn said Brett had been acting like a jerk—not like that was news. They broke up, and Jordyn wanted to leave. Olivia couldn’t recall anything after that—she found it difficult to think with the constant ringing in her ears. Beeping … Where had the beeping come from? Wait! Olivia remembered getting in the car with Jordyn, but then nothing. Had they been in an accident?