Well Behaved Wives(80)
“Not only does Peter know, but he got her moved from where she was to Friends sixteen years ago—and he pays the bills.”
“Now that’s a good man. That’s love and devotion,” Shirley said. “And I should know.”
The doorbell rang, and Shirley hurried to answer it.
A few moments later, she ushered Carrie into the dining room. Her bruises were fading somewhat, and she’d covered them with thick makeup, so they were hardly visible, unless you knew. If she didn’t know better, Ruth would have said she looked almost cheerful.
Ruth felt proud of her friend. It was a huge sacrifice for Carrie to leave Eli, leave her home here, but Ruth knew, unequivocally, that it was the right thing.
Carrie set a box from Liss’s bakery in the center of the map, covering Kansas, which was void of any X.
“How delicious. You shouldn’t have,” Shirley said.
“I’m glad you did.” Irene untied the string on the box and leaned across the western US to peek inside.
“I wanted to thank you for being so kind,” Carrie said. “And to say I want us to get back to our etiquette lessons.”
“What do you mean?” Intuition raced through Ruth, leaving shivers in its wake, as though one of her brothers had smacked her in the face with a snowball.
“We’re staying in Wynnefield,” Carrie said as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
“What?” As the word left Ruth’s mouth, she realized it was more confrontational than she’d have liked.
“We who?” Irene asked.
“Oh dear,” Shirley said.
“This is good news, don’t you see?” Carrie went on. “Eli said if it was that important to me, we’d stay in Wynnefield. I love him, girls, and this is my chance at real happiness. While I’m so grateful you wanted to help me, I don’t need help. We are going to be fine.” She held out her skirt as if to curtsey and swiveled. “He’s being so sweet and attentive.”
Ruth became nauseated. How could Carrie trust Eli after what he’d done?
“You didn’t tell him anything about what we planned, did you?” Shirley’s face betrayed her agitation.
“No, I think it would hurt his feelings that I hadn’t trusted him.”
“Men like that can’t be trusted,” Shirley said. “I hope Harriet kept this to herself too.”
Ruth understood the danger immediately. They and their future work would all be at risk if Eli discovered the rest of them had been planning to help his wife escape.
“No. Harriet wouldn’t do that,” Carrie said.
Carrie was too trusting. Did she still not understand? “Don’t be so sure.”
“Harriet’s on my side. She just wants me to be happy.”
“Happy with a husband who hurts you?” Ruth asked.
“He’s different now, I promise. He understands I won’t live like that anymore.”
That’s what Ruth was afraid of.
The women only nibbled at the butter cookies Carrie had brought. Their appetites seemed to have disappeared. No point in carrying on with their activities now.
Carrie watched them as Shirley stored away the map, paper, and pencils. Ruth removed the leaves from the table and stacked dessert plates at its center. She boiled water for tea and Sanka. All of them except Carrie packed up and stored the collected goods on basement shelves and in the closet.
No one spoke about it, but it was clear how wrong they felt Carrie’s decision was—how dangerous for her and the baby.
“I’m sorry you did all this work for nothing.” Carrie’s cheerfulness had dimmed now. No one contradicted her.
Ruth knew, like the rest of them, that Carrie’s life would likely be lived on a knife-edge, at best. But Shirley had told them yesterday that the Secret Esther Society didn’t coerce or cajole. Ruth wished they did.
But she had memorized the locations while she feigned ease with Carrie’s decision to stay with Eli—just in case. Carrie chatted away about the upcoming holy days, about her plans for the nursery, about the roast chicken she would make for dinner, as if everything was perfectly normal. Safe.
As if the others were no longer terrified for her.
Finally, she stood, saying she had to make dinner preparations before Eli got home. As the women walked her to the door, Shirley rested her hand on Carrie’s back. “You know you can call or come here any time of the day or night, for any reason.”
Carrie nodded and, after a pause, she kissed Shirley’s cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
Irene took Carrie’s arm. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”
Ruth waved. What a loaded statement.
Lillian looked like she wanted to say something too, then stepped back and folded her hands. After they’d left, the rest of them took a collective breath.
Ruth broke the silence. “Carrie wasn’t the first, and she won’t be the last to stay with a man who beat her.”
“I don’t understand. How can she stay?” Lillian asked.
Shirley didn’t mince her words. “Hope and shame are a potent cocktail, leaving girls drunk with tolerance.”
“Isn’t there something else we can do?” Ruth said.
Lillian shook her head. “There’s a communal denial about their problem—and a legal system that favors these barbaric men.”