Page 17 of Two Weeks
“Oh. One more thing.” He looked disgusted with her. “If you ever get pregnant, you’re on your own. I don’t want a kid.” He had said things like that before. But that time Elise knew she’d remember his words forever. He raised his voice. “You hear me, Elise?”
She didn’t answer him. Just stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
Only then had it hit her what she’d been doing. How in her determination to rebel against her mother, to punish her mother for not believing in her dreams of being an artist, she had fallen victim to Randy’s twisted pleasures.
Even now she couldn’t bear to think about the months that had led to that single moment. But she had known one thing that afternoon. She was finished. His abusive words and actions, the way he used her whenever he wanted, all of it was over.
Ten minutes later, when she was dressed, she walked out of his house without saying a word. Just walked out and kept going.
“Elise!” She could still hear him yelling at her from his front porch. “Get back here. I told you I’d take you home.”
“No.” It was the last word she had ever said to him. No she wasn’t going back to him. She was going to go home and tell her mother everything. Every awful detail. Well, maybe not every detail. And then she was going to start over.
A life without Randy Collins.
Her mother had tried to be strong later that evening when Elise came clean about what had been going on with Randy. But before she fell asleep, Elise heard her mama crying against her pillow. Muffled sounds of heartbreak and regret. But at least the truth was out in the open.
Or most of it, anyway. She couldn’t tell her mom the whole story. Her mama would call the police for sure. Because what Randy did to her wasn’t legal. She understood that now.
Anyway, Elise had expected her mom to be upset. What she hadn’t expected was how Randy wouldn’t let her go. It made no sense. Randy had other girls. What did it matter if she walked away? But it mattered to Randy. And for weeks he threatened to find her and take her back. No matter how he had to make it happen. “You’re mine, Elise.” He cornered her near her locker one day at school. “Watch your back.”
Threats like that were what had led her mama to make the decision—the only one that made sense. Elise would move to Bloomington to live with her aunt and uncle and she’d finish school there. Randy wouldn’t know where she’d gone, and he could move on. Forget about her.
But as far away as all that felt, the reality was this: The last time she’d been with Randy was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Elise turned to the sink and ran the water. She dipped her fingers in the cool stream and pressed them to her forehead.I don’t know if You’re there or not, God. But please, no. Please.
Randy didn’t always use protection, and even still she’d never gotten pregnant. Elise figured she probably couldn’t have a baby. Not when she’d never been a willing party to their afternoons at his house.
Still, what was this nausea? How long could she blame it on the school cafeteria?
The cold water helped and as Elise dried her forehead a sense of normalcy came over her. It was impossible. She was already getting straight A’s in her new classes and her NYU paperwork and dorm application were filled out. She’d send it in next week with a letter from Dr. Baxter about her volunteer work. NYU was a sure thing. She could feel it.
She filled her lungs and stood straight. The patients were waiting. With her work sheet in one hand, she left the bathroom and walked toward the patient hallway.
The first room she passed, a woman called out to her. “Dear, right here! Please!”
Elise stopped and looked in. The name on the door was Evelyn. A glance at her notes told her this was the woman she’d planned to save for last. The woman whose hours were numbered. Elise stepped inside and smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Dear, if you could please hold my hand.” The woman’s voice trembled. She was very old. In her nineties, probably. She reached out shaking fingers. “I’m waiting for my son to get here. But...” Her voice broke. “I feel so alone, dear.”
There was no way Elise could leave her. She grabbed a spot of hand sanitizer and rubbed her fingers together. “I’m here. Everything’s fine.”
“Okay.” Evelyn visibly exhaled. “That’s good.”
Elise pulled up a chair near the woman’s bed and took hold of her hand. “Would you like to tell me your story? What life was like when you were a little girl?”
For a long moment the woman thought about that. Like maybe she might start at the beginning. But then she shook her head. “No, dear. That’ll take too long.”
A smile pulled on Elise’s lips. Sweet woman. What lucky kids and grandkids to have a caring soul like Evelyn. Whoever they were, wherever they were, Elise hoped they’d get here soon.
“You know what I’d like?” The woman wasn’t shaking as bad now. “Could you sing to me? The nurse said you’re a singer.”
“Well.” Elise looked into Evelyn’s eyes. “I wouldn’t say that. I used to sing in my school choir. That’s all.”
“How nice.” Again the woman seemed to relax a little. “There was a song my mother used to sing to me. Whenever I was sick.” Her eyes filled with tears, the papery skin on her face trembling at the memory.
“Tell me.” Elise doubted she would know it. But she could sing something, at least. If that’s what the woman wanted.
“?‘Jesus Loves Me.’ That’s what she would sing and it always... always made me feel better.” Evelyn shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. But I don’t seem right and I thought... that song...”
