Chapter Forty-eight

He didn’t call again.

Corinne waited. She stayed up late every night, hoping he might be having trouble sleeping. He didn’t call. Maybe he’d found some clarity. Maybe he’d never tell her either way.

Days went by, none of them worth a damn.

Corinne’s mom invited her over one Sunday after church; there was a football game on, so they were eating earlier than usual. Corinne offered to bring a vegetable. Her mom told her to bring rice. Corinne had never made rice before—it was a mess. First, it was all wet, and then it stuck together. Corinne threw it away and threw on a skirt, and stopped to buy a few loaves of bread on the way to her mom’s house. Everyone else was already there, she had to park halfway down the block. They were probably already eating.

When Corinne walked in, some of the guys were in the living room, watching the game. They were already eating. “I brought bread,” Corinne said. “If you need some.” Her stepdad lifted a hand to acknowledge her.

Corinne took the bread into the kitchen. Maybe she could heat it up or something. “Well, I’m not surprised,” Holly was saying. All the women in the family were standing around the island. Alicia was crying; Corinne’s mom was trying to comfort her. Shawn was standing there, too, with his hands on his hips, frustrated. Holly looked angry. Mercy was patting baby Ruth’s back, like she was trying to calm her down—but the baby seemed fine. Mercy looked like she needed someone to pat her back.

“What happened?” Corinne asked.

Everyone looked up at her, stricken. Mercy patted the baby’s back harder. The baby started to cry.

“Nothing,” Corinne’s mom said. Then: “We lost someone at church today. We’re all just grieving a little bit.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Corinne said. “Was it someone I know?”

Holly huffed and walked into the living room.

“Let’s talk about happier things,” her mom said. “Did you bring the rice?”

Corinne held out her bread. “I brought a differently delicious carb.”

“That’s okay,” her mom said. “I had Mercy bring rice, too. Make yourself a plate, Corinne. You, too, Alicia. The chicken’s getting cold.”

Corinne’s mother had made a big pan of chicken in paprika sour-cream sauce. The smell of it took Corinne back to being a kid. It had been her dad’s favorite dish. You ate it over rice.

Shawn was comforting Alicia now, while Corinne’s mom took care of the bread.

“You okay?” Corinne asked Alicia.

Alicia covered her mouth and nodded. Shawn looked like he’d like to cry, too. Ruth was fussing. Corinne reached for her. “Make yourself a plate, Mercy. I’ll walk with her.”

Mercy nodded. “Thanks, Corinne.”

Corinne took the baby and held her against her chest, cupping the back of her head. She walked with her into the living room, bouncing her gently, and pretended to pay attention to the football game. Eventually everyone else came out, too, to the living room or the dining room, and started acting mostly normal. Ruth sucked on her fist and crabbed quietly. Corinne bounced her. She kissed the back of her head.

Mercy ate quickly, even though she didn’t have to, then came for the baby. “Thanks, Corinne. It’s nice to have a meal to myself.”

“I think she’s hungry, too,” Corinne said.

“It’s about that time. I’ll take her upstairs and feed her. Let me get my bag.”

“I’ll follow you.”

Corinne followed Mercy up the stairs to the spare bedroom and waited for her to get situated in an easy chair before she handed Ruth down to her.

“Thanks,” Mercy said.

“Anytime. She’s like a little bundle of serotonin.”

“I must be immune. I still feel so anxious all the time.”

“You’re doing fine,” Corinne said, watching Mercy get the baby attached to her breast. It took a second, and Ruth cried, but then it was all right. “Look at that. You guys are so good together.”

Mercy looked up at Corinne. She looked sad. “It was Enoch Miller,” she whispered. “He fell away.”

Corinne felt her heart leave her chest and flutter to the ground. “Enoch?”

Mercy nodded.

“Wait, what does that mean—is he all right?”

“He asked to be marked as bad association.”

“I’ve never heard of that,” Corinne said.

“Shawn said it almost never happens.”

“Is it like being cast out?”

“I guess it’s like casting yourself out.”

Corinne just stared at her.

“I’m sorry, Corinne, I know you were old friends.”

Corinne shook her head. “Thank you for telling me.”

Mercy nodded.

“Do you need some water?” Corinne asked.

“I’ve got some. We’re fine.”

Corinne nodded. She headed back downstairs. Alicia was waiting for her in the stairwell. She looked up at Corinne’s face. “Did Mercy tell you?” she whispered.

Corinne nodded again.

Alicia started to cry some more. “It’s just so awful, Corinne.”

Corinne put her hand on Alicia’s back.

“He’d been doing so well,” Alicia sobbed. “We thought he was back on his feet.”

“I’m sorry,” Corinne said.

“Why would he ask to be marked? Shawn won’t tell me what happened in the elders’ meeting, but why would Enoch do that? If he made a mistake, he could ask for forgiveness. Everyone would forgive him.”

“I don’t know,” Corinne said.

“Oh, Corinne, I’m sorry. You know I wanted something better for you both.”

“I should get something to eat, Alicia. I’m feeling a little…”

“Of course,” Alicia said, wiping her eyes. “I’m glad Mercy told you. Your mom doesn’t want you to know—she thinks if you hear Enoch Miller’s name, you’re going to turn to stone.”

Corinne broke away from Alicia and went to the kitchen to make herself a plate of chicken with sour-cream gravy. Whenever anyone looked at her, she took a bite. She swallowed it without chewing. When her mom looked at her, she smiled. When anyone talked to her, she nodded. Her hands were cold.

She was standing in her mother’s kitchen, it was Sunday afternoon.

She was walking across the church lobby, and Enoch Miller was walking the other way, and he wouldn’t look at her.

She was sitting in her elders’ meeting, and they were asking her if she understood the scope of her sins. Did she see how repulsive she’d been before the eyes of the Lord? How she’d saddened and disgusted Him? Yes, Corinne had said, thinking of Enoch Miller, and the way he wouldn’t look at her. The way he hadn’t talked to her. She thought of the games safely put away in the closet.

“Aunt Corinne, will you play Candy Land with us?”

Corinne nodded. She sat at the kitchen table. She helped her nephews get ice cream cones for dessert.

It was Sunday afternoon, and she was at her mother’s house, and she was allowed here, she’d take it. She was sitting at the kitchen table. She was sitting at the kitchen table.

She was walking across the church lobby.

She was sitting at the top of a tornado slide.

She was hiding in the church basement, hoping he would find her.

“Aunt Corinne? Can we play again?”

Corinne nodded. Holly walked through the kitchen to make sure everything was okay. To make sure Corinne wasn’t corrupting her boys. Corinne was eating ice cream and explaining to them what peanut brittle was. Corinne knew her place. She knew where the lines were, every one of them. Corinne smiled at Holly. Corinne’s hands were cold. She was eating ice cream. She was sitting in her mother’s kitchen.

She was sitting.

She was hiding.

She was touching Enoch Miller under the table.

She was meeting him in parks.

She was never coming back.

Corinne was never coming back.