Chapter Forty-Seven

When Momma drove away, I had no idea where she went. Probably Ansel and Velma’s, but if so, she’d regret it. After all, Fawn was there.

I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Momma’s words saddened me, but I felt dirty—filthy—from Neil’s. His accusations and suggestions, his penetrating eyes and body language. I wanted to cleanse myself of his memory, and as I waited for the water to heat, I studied myself in the medicine-cabinet mirror. My face reflected back at me, pale and death-like, and I wondered when dark circles had appeared beneath my eyes. They made me look even more like Momma.

I stepped into the shower before adjusting the water, and my left side scalded, but I didn’t care. At least I felt it. At least I felt something. My heart, which normally beat heavily with bitterness, now felt like a stone in my chest—a weight to be lugged through whatever trial came next.

The soapy washcloth wasn’t sufficient, and I reached through the shower curtain to fumble under the sink for Momma’s old loofah sponge. I never used the thing because of its coarseness, but suddenly I wanted it desperately. After saturating it with shower gel, I scrubbed my arms, legs, and body until my skin stung. Half the bottle of shampoo went onto my hair, and I clawed at my scalp, not slowing even when the soap trickled into my eyes. The burning under my lids eventually released pent-up anger, and I slammed my fists against the tile and screamed. The sound more closely resembled that of a tortured animal than a human, and it caught me so off guard that I halted my tantrum.

I stayed in the shower for what felt like hours, letting the water wash away the soap, the shampoo, the disgrace. Then I gently dried myself, wrapping the towel around my pinkened skin. I still felt dirty. Wiping the fog off the mirror, I peered at my reflection once again and even though the dark circles remained, I looked different. I stared at myself until I figured out what it was.

My eyes.

The emptiness had lessened, and my determination had increased. What had changed?

A gentle stirring prickled my heart, and I realized I wanted to talk to God. Needed to. After all, there was no one else left. Every person in my world had pulled away in one way or another, but strangely, I didn’t feel alone. I leaned toward the mirror with scrutiny. My eyes really were different. Lowering the toilet lid, I sat on the seat and rested my elbows on my knees.

And I prayed.

I told God about Momma’s anger and Fawn’s pregnancy and JohnScott’s distance. I explained my jumbled feelings for Dodd and asked what in the world I should do, and then I begged for a way to get out of Trapp. When I griped at Him about Neil’s behavior, I felt like a tattling preschooler, but then I lashed out at God for allowing that man so much power. Grief and anger bubbled inside me, and I embraced their familiarity like an old friend.

When I opened the bathroom door, cold air chilled my moist skin, and I quickly pulled on sweats and socks. I towel-dried my hair and pulled it into a bun, envisioning Neil’s fury as he swung at Momma. None of it made sense. Or maybe it made too much sense. I stumbled to the kitchen table and sat down. What would he do now? Neil had already taken the Cunninghams away from me. Momma’s job from her. Years ago, he took our church, our friends, our reputation.

And he took my daddy.

A whimper came from the depths of my lungs. One solitary sob that seemed to die from lack of energy.

As I positioned the salt-and-pepper shakers in the middle of the table, side by side, my hands shook. I pressed my palms on the table and studied them. Knuckles, fingernails, cuticles. My nails needed to be filed.

A knock sounded, and Dodd called to me as the door opened. “Ruthie, you okay?”

Why was the preacher here? Even though we had talked, and kissed, the night before, I made sure he understood my feelings hadn’t changed. I couldn’t go to his church or be what he wanted me to be, and I rested my forehead in my hands to avoid looking at him. “I’ve been better.”

He sat next to me at the table and trailed a finger across my arm. “You’re shaking a little.”

I shrugged.

“Ruthie, I owe you another apology.”

I lifted my head to look at him then.

He leaned back and ran his hands through his hair, pausing to grip the back of his neck. “You were right.”

“About what?”

“Everything. I didn’t listen to you, not really, and now I see how blind I was to what you were going through.” He pulled his chair close to me and took my hands in his. “I know what Neil said. Ruthie, I’m so sorry.”

“What? When?”

“At the United. This afternoon.”

The dirty feeling crept across my shoulders again. “You were there?”

“Charlie and me. Over by the Dumpster. We were getting boxes.”

I stared at the ceiling. The corner above Dodd’s head had browned from a water spot. “What did you overhear?”

“All of it, I guess. Neil talked about an apartment in Lubbock, and college … and your mom.”

My entire life was soiled. “There’s more,” I whispered. He might as well know everything. “Momma told me more.”

He squeezed my hands.

“Neil lied. He told my daddy I wasn’t his daughter. That’s why Daddy left us. Momma couldn’t convince him otherwise.”

Dodd didn’t move for several seconds. “So … your mother didn’t have an affair, with Neil.”

“No.” I paused to consider it, answering slowly. “I don’t think she had an affair with anyone.”

“Should we ask her?”

I laughed bitterly. “She won’t be ready for an interrogation anytime soon.”

He studied me intently, then asked the question that had been running through my mind. “Do you believe Hoby is your dad?”

Another sob slipped from my lips, and I clamped my fingers over my mouth. Neil had already taken my daddy once. He wasn’t taking him again. “I do. I believe that.”

Dodd pulled me toward him, cradling my head against his shoulder. He brushed aside a wisp of wet hair that had pulled loose from my bun. Then he prayed.

His prayer was different than mine had been. He prayed peace for Momma and me, and understanding and strength. He prayed Momma and I would learn how to communicate again. That we would heal and be blessed. Then he prayed forgiveness for Neil. At first I cringed, but then I realized I no longer had the capacity to withhold it from him. Even though his actions infuriated me, I would not allow him to control my anger any longer.

As Dodd continued to pray, I cried.

Thirteen years’ worth of tears. Thirteen years of bitterness and frustration, confusion and anger—all blustering out of my heart in one explosive stream of forgiveness. I had never cried so hard, not even as a child—never knew it was possible for my body to react in such an involuntary way. In fact, trying to stop my blubbering would have been like trying to hold back the West Texas wind. I don’t know how long it took, but Dodd never left my side or stopped praying, except to occasionally whisper words of comfort.

Eventually my sobs diminished to whimpers, and I wilted into a heap, laying my cheek flat on the kitchen table. “So what happened? After?”

Dodd wiped beneath my eyes. “I told Charlie and Lee Roy everything.”

“They believed you?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

I sighed. “What about Neil?”

Dodd shook his head. “Charlie and Lee Roy confronted him, but he couldn’t repent. He stormed out of the building.”

I closed my eyes. “The Blaylocks won’t have a friend left to their name.” Somehow the thought of the Blaylock women being knocked down a few notches satisfied me.

“Is that really what you want?” He spoke so softly, I could barely hear him. “To punish them for Neil’s sins?”

My hand trembled as I pressed a fist against my lips, wishing my words could be taken back. I sat up and shook my head.

“The man is black with sin, Ruthie.”

I nodded. “Will the church push him away?”

“I get the impression Neil is gone for good, but if not, Charlie and Lee Roy won’t ask him to leave.” He exhaled and leaned against the wall. “God is capable of forgiving the darkest sins, and He expects us to do the same.”

“If you’re telling me to forgive Neil … I think I just did.” I peered into his beautiful blue eyes as they crinkled into a smile.

“I’m telling you to let God forgive you.”