In the Shadow of Lakecrest(56)
“Kate, Kate,” he murmured, and I didn’t say anything, not even when he came inside and closed the door behind him.
He did the talking, and he had plenty to say, about my mother and her whoring and whether I, too, was a whore. I saw very quickly that everything hung in the balance. I could be a good girl and kick him out and accept it was over. Or I could make one last-ditch effort to keep him. Maybe my father’s blood rose up in me at last, because I decided to take a gamble. I blinked up some tears, threw myself into Randall’s arms, and told him it shouldn’t matter. Not when I loved him with my whole heart. I’d show him how much I loved him, I said, and he couldn’t have hated me too much, because he sure was eager to get his hands up my skirt.
It all moved much faster than I’d expected. From what I’d heard from under the table in our apartment, Ma put on more of a show. With Randall and me, there were a few minutes of groping and some clumsy adjustments of arms and legs as we fell back onto my bed. Randall unbuttoned his trousers—he didn’t even push them down off his hips—and then he was on top of me, shoving my knickers to the side.
I let my muscles go loose, and Randall murmured, “Good girl.”
It was the only thing he said, other than a few grunts as he thrust into me. It hurt, as I expected it would, but not nearly as much as the thought of having to start all over with a new fellow. I thought I’d done the right thing.
When he was done, Randall rolled off and straightened his clothes without looking at me. Was that when I knew? Or was it when I said his name and he shook his head in disgust? In a matter of seconds, I lurched from relief to panic. Randall’s shifty eyes, his hurry to get out—I knew what it meant. His words only made it official.
“I was right. You are a whore.”
At least my mother got paid, I thought, the words jabbing like a dagger. You got what you wanted for free.
I’d always prided myself on being smart. Good at schoolwork, but also good at knowing which way the wind was blowing, which way to shift when disaster loomed. I looked at Randall’s smug face, and hate welled up like a fever, goading me into action. My arm shot up, and I clawed at his cheek, my nails ripping into his skin. Then I started screaming.
The commotion attracted a few girls from down the hall, the ones who’d pretended not to notice when Randall came into my room. The housemother was there a minute later. Randall gasped and clutched his bleeding face as I told the story of his vicious attack and how I’d only just managed to fight him off. I cried on my next-door neighbor’s shoulder so I wouldn’t have to watch Mrs. Llewellyn march Randall out.
I never saw him again.
Rules were rules. I was reprimanded for allowing a man in my room and lost my evening passes for a month. An example had to be made for the other girls, Mrs. Llewellyn said. Later, she told me she’d decided not to report Randall to his fraternity or the university—better to keep things quiet, for both our sakes. I’d made a mistake letting him in, he’d made a mistake getting drunk and “frisky” (her word), and I’d taught him a well-deserved lesson. It was all best forgotten, with only two months left until I graduated.
It wasn’t enough time to land myself a new husband. Once I left school, I had to start over from scratch.
I wondered where I’d be now if I’d put my mind to teaching. Really worked at it. But I hadn’t. Ma had set me on my course, and I’d stuck to it. But I’d never forgotten Randall’s face when he looked at me as if I were a piece of trash. I couldn’t risk Ma slipping up and saying too much about her past or mine. It would destroy me to see that same look on Matthew’s face. To know that love could turn so quickly to hate.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ma was on her best behavior during the rest of her stay, charming Matthew with her salt-of-the-earth, plain-talking style. I’d never seen him laugh with such genuine warmth. When Hank pulled up the front drive on her last day, Matthew looked genuinely sorry to see her go.
“Mary, there’s something I’d like you to have,” he said, pressing an envelope into her hands. “This should be enough to set you up in your own place, and I’ve made arrangements with the First Bank of Cleveland so you’ll have a regular monthly income. I don’t want you to worry about money ever again.”
Ma looked ready to choke up. She grabbed Matthew’s arm and pulled him close so she could kiss him on the cheek.
“You’re a blessing and a saint. A dear, dear boy, and I couldn’t be prouder to call you my son.”
I rode with Ma to the East Ridge station and sat with her on a trackside bench while we waited for the train to arrive. Ma was still clutching the envelope, like she couldn’t believe it was real unless she had it in her hands.
“Did you put Matthew up to this?” she asked.
“It was all his idea,” I said. “But I agreed, wholeheartedly. You can’t stay at the Fosters’ anymore.”
“I always thought he’d make an honest woman of me, one day.”
“Well, he hasn’t.”
It came out more harshly than I’d intended, but it was well past time she faced reality. “Everything you do reflects on me and the whole Lemont family. You’ve got to keep your nose clean and stay out of trouble.”
Ma smirked, and I could tell she was considering a snappy comeback, something about trouble finding her no matter what. I glared at her and then at the people who’d begun to crowd around us as the train pulled in.