Chapter Thirty-Seven

“You all right, Ruthie?”

Saturday afternoon, Dodd picked me up at the United and drove me to his house where we attempted to work a puzzle on his coffee table. But I was decidedly not all right. I’d spent two days robotically performing my tasks at the school and the store while wondering what on earth to do about Dodd. I lifted a shoulder and repeated what he already knew. “Well, Momma won’t speak to me, and she’s hardly come out of her bedroom since your phone call.”

“Ruthie, I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do that? I said I would call you back.”

“I’ve told you. I didn’t know she would be home.”

The puzzle pieces were dumped in a pile, and I flipped a couple of them right side up. “It’s my fault she lost her job.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It has nothing to do with you. Or Neil. She got fired. It happens.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well,”—he swept a palm across the back of this neck—“regardless of whatever happened between Neil and your mother, I don’t think he would do that. The man’s not evil, Ruthie. He wouldn’t jeopardize the livelihood of a family.”

I disagreed, but talking to Dodd about it was like screaming into the wind during a dust storm. He simply couldn’t—wouldn’t—hear me. So when Milla and Grady came in the front door with Dairy Queen hamburgers, I embraced the interruption and stood to leave.

“Hello, Ruthie.” Milla addressed me but frowned at Dodd’s back. “Everything all right?”

“Super.” I stepped to the door as Milla and Grady took the burgers to the kitchen.

Dodd looked at me wearily. “Stay.”

His voice said stay, but the look on his face said he needed a break as much as I did. The two of us weren’t going to see eye to eye regarding Neil Blaylock or Momma or the church, and I began to wonder if there wouldn’t be a score of other topics just as in­surmountable. I hadn’t even pointed out the fact that Fawn obviously told Neil about seeing us holding hands. But now wasn’t the time.

I reached for the doorknob, but just as my palm touched the cool metal, someone pounded on the door from the outside, and I jumped as if I’d touched a rattlesnake.

Dodd was equally startled, and only after another loud knock did he step around me to open the door.

What I saw on the porch shook my nerves.

The pounding had come from Clyde Felton. “I didn’t know where else to take her.” He had his beefy arm around Fawn Blaylock’s waist, supporting her as she shook from deep sobs. Her tangled hair fell across her eyes, and she wore jeans and a sweatshirt, but no coat or footwear, except quilted house shoes crusted with mud and ice.

Dodd pulled both of them into the house while Milla enveloped Fawn in a hug.

“Oh, sweetheart, whatever it is, it’ll be all right.”

Fawn clung to her, and I noticed a red welt on her left cheek.

“Calm down, now.” Milla set Fawn on the couch and began tracing rhythmic circles on her back.

I stared, slack-jawed with surprise, until Dodd brushed past me to close the door. He positioned himself at Clyde’s side while Grady stood halfway in the kitchen, gaping.

“Clyde?” Dodd searched his face for an explanation.

“I found her wandering down highway eighty-four.” His eyes were desperate. “I had just drove over to Snyder … but that don’t matter.” He shook his head. “The girl hiked half a mile from her car. Flat tire. She’s been like this since I picked her up, but she got worse when I suggested taking her home. Started hollering she didn’t want to go back there.” He scanned the room, making eye contact with each of us. “I didn’t know what else to do. Where else to take her. I could’ve changed the tire, but she’s in no shape to drive.”

Dodd squeezed his shoulder. “You were wise to bring her here. Come in the kitchen and get some hot coffee.” He glanced at me, silently conveying his intention to leave Fawn alone with his mother, and I moved quickly to the kitchen to escape the awful sound of Fawn’s tears.

She wasn’t just crying. Her sobs wrenched from deep in her throat, sending unpleasant shivers down my spine, and between each wail, she inhaled as though she had been holding her breath underwater for too long and had finally come up for air.

I pulled the kitchen door closed behind me, even though it obviously hadn’t been used in years. The door hung on a warped spot in the floor, and just as I yanked it free, Fawn moaned desperately, “I’m pregnant, Milla.”

The click of the door shut out sounds from the next room surprisingly well, and we were left in startled silence. I turned slowly and leaned against the wall. Grady’s eyes widened, and he looked down at the floor. Clyde sighed so heavily, his massive form seemed to deflate and crumple.

Only Dodd spoke. “Well, that explains it.”

Grady lowered himself into a kitchen chair. “Neil will not handle this well.”

“From the looks of the girl,” Clyde said, “I’d say he’s already not handling it well.”

Dodd shook his head. “The slap could have been from Tyler.”

My throat tightened. Did Dodd actually think Neil Blaylock could do no wrong? I studied the preacher as he leaned against the back door, and suddenly I didn’t like him very much. “Neil will turn his back on her,” I whispered.

Dodd’s gaze fell on me with the same weary expression I’d seen all day. “You don’t know that, Ruthie.”

Clyde cleared his throat. “She may be right.”

“Surely not,” Grady said. “Neil may be strict, but he wouldn’t do that.”

I peered at the ceiling as the oniony hamburgers on the counter made my stomach churn.

Dodd’s tone softened. “Ruthie, just because you’ve seen bad things happen doesn’t mean they’ll always be that way.”

Clyde fell silent as the air hung heavy between us, but Grady said, “We should pray.”

I bowed my head, grateful for a reason to close my eyes and shut off at least one of my senses.

Dodd prayed peace for Fawn and her parents, health for the baby, and understanding from the community. He prayed for compassion, patience, and wisdom as the four of us, and others, ministered to her. When he said Amen, Grady took up where Dodd left off.

I slid to the floor, hugging my bent legs as the coldness of the linoleum penetrated my jeans. When Grady prayed for forgiveness for Fawn and Tyler, I rested my forehead on my quivering knees and covered my head with my arms. Then he prayed for healing for whatever had passed between Fawn and her parents, but that didn’t make sense to me. Why would Fawn ever want to forgive them?

After Grady, Clyde said a brief prayer, followed by silence.

Grady started a fresh pot of coffee.

The ex-convict sat at the table.

Dodd hadn’t moved from the corner, where he leaned against the back door. I noticed his slumped shoulders and sad eyes, but he didn’t make eye contact, so I laid my head on my knees again and stayed that way for the better part of an hour. When Milla finally opened the door, it seemed all the oxygen had drained from the room.

“She’s lying down in my bedroom.” Milla snatched a tissue and blotted her tear-streaked cheeks. “We need to talk.”

Grady spoke first. “We heard Fawn say she’s pregnant, but that’s all we heard. How is she?”

“She’s devastated.” She shook her head. “Fawn finally worked up the courage to tell her parents, but they reacted negatively.”

“She’s been slapped,” Clyde said.

“I get the feeling it may have been more than that, though Fawn didn’t say as much. Her mother conveyed her disappointment by refusing to hug or console her. I’m not sure she even spoke. Neil did the opposite, calling her a worthless tramp—and I don’t know what else—and told her to get out of his house.”

Milla paused as Grady looked from me to Clyde then back to me. “Anyway, he refused to let her take anything from the house, even threatening to rip the clothes off her back. She drove away with him bellowing he would track her down to get the Mustang back.”

“She can stay here for now,” Dodd offered.

“She can not stay here.” Milla trembled, then gripped her elbows as if in an attempt to keep her hands from shaking. “Neil is accusing Grady of fathering the child.”

“What?” Grady grasped the back of a wooden dining chair as if he might pick it up over his head and slam it against the wall.

“Fawn said Neil has become paranoid about the two of you, and he accused her of breaking up with Tyler to throw herself at you.”

“She broke up with Tyler because he’s a louse.”

Dodd inspected his brother for a count of five, and then seemed to slip into the role of supervisor. “Grady, even though I don’t doubt the baby is Tyler’s, it would be best if the Blaylocks didn’t see you with Fawn over the next few weeks. It could cause more harm than good.”

“Ruthie?” Dodd hesitated at first, but then said in a hopeful tone, “Can she stay with you?”

The air left my lungs as I pictured Momma discovering Fawn Blaylock in our house. I looked him straight in the eye, irritated he would even ask. “Not in a million years.”

“Call Coach Pickett,” Grady said. “Ansel and Velma will understand.”

“Oh, thank you, Lord.” Milla sniffed. “Velma will take care of her.”

The room seemed to darken around me. These people didn’t understand anything. Having Fawn shacked up in my aunt’s house was almost the same as having her in Momma’s own bed.

Dodd stepped to the middle of the room and barked orders. “I’ll call Ansel and Velma and tell them Ruthie and I are on the way with Fawn. Clyde, do you mind changing the flat tire? Mom can go with you and return Fawn’s car.”

Clyde nodded once.

“Grady?” He took a deep breath. “Pray.”

After a moment’s hesitation, we all began to shift into action, but Milla’s soft voice got our attention once again. “There’s something else, Dodd.”

I covered my face with my hands, exhausted from so much bad news.

“Neil has called a meeting of the elders.”

Dodd’s eyes were a mix of confusion and apprehension. “To pray for Fawn?”

“No,” Milla said. “Based on his accusation against Grady, he’s petitioning for your termination.”