Chapter 7 #2
“Well, it doesn’t look right,” her mother said.
It was clear from Deborah’s sharp gaze that she knew.
This clearly didn’t jibe with her earlier admonishment to be discreet.
She could see from her mother’s rigid posture and cold gaze that Deborah was livid.
“That boy’s truck parked in front of your house will cause talk, Josephine. ”
Josie stiffened. “What does it matter? People will talk if they want to talk, either about me or about someone else. I hate all the gossip and judgment. You should too,” she said accusingly. “Maybe you need to write a sermon about people minding their own business?”
William Marcum frowned at her. “Do not speak to your mother that way, Josephine!”
“Don’t come into my house and tell me what I should and shouldn’t do when I’m a grown woman,” she shot back. “I’m not a child. I’m entitled to live my life without your interference!”
Deborah drew back as if she’d been slapped. “I can’t believe you’d speak to us this way, Josephine. After everything we’ve done for you!”
Josie felt it then. The guilt and the shame crawled beneath her skin, and the whispered words of every single member of her father’s congregation echoed in her mind.
You’re so lucky they took you in. You should be so grateful they saved you. Where would you be if God hadn’t called them to open their home to a poor orphan?
But for the first time, there was anger with the guilt. Anger that what should have been done out of love had been reduced to a currency to control her.
Her voice quivered as she spoke. The anger and the hurt, not to mention the resentment that had been building for years, were all bubbling just below the surface, like a volcano ready to explode.
“You have done a lot for me. And I’ve never been anything but grateful…but that doesn’t mean I have to live my entire life trying to earn your love and acceptance. You both need to leave.”
William stepped forward. “Your mother didn’t mean it that way, Josie. We’re lucky to have you, and we both know it. There is nothing you could ever do that would make us think differently.”
He meant that, or at least he believed he did.
But if they really felt that way, wouldn’t they have said so before?
During all the conversations where she stood there beside them after church, and people praised them for taking her in and raising her like their own, wouldn’t they have said then that she was their own?
“Then maybe you should have told the congregation that. All I’ve heard my whole life is how you sacrificed, how you gave up so much for me…I’m a burden. I’m proof of your Christian duty and nothing more.”
“That’s not true. We’ve never made you feel that way!” Deborah protested.
“You just did!” Josie protested. “But more to the point, you never once tried to stop everyone else from making me feel that way.”
The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. The silence stretched between them, growing heavier by the second.
Finally, William said, “We’ll go. We just wanted to make sure you were okay. But you’re clearly upset and us being here isn’t making it better.”
It was a peace offering of sorts, but she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to be placated and made to feel like she was being humored or patronized. She had a right to feel the things she did.
“No, it really isn’t…and which one of my neighbors is your spy? Or is it the whole damned street?”
Her father looked at her in a way that made her feel petty and small. “Watch your language. I understand that you’re upset, and yes, one of your neighbors called, but they were concerned about you. If Carter Hayes is in this house, it’s abundantly clear you want him to be, so we’ll go.”
Josie watched them leave and immediately wondered what she’d done. She’d yelled at her parents. Not even as a crazy ass, hormonal teenager had she spoken so sharply to her mother. She’d been mean, petty, and spiteful. She’d rebelled against them.
“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” She just kept muttering the phrase over and over again, shocked at her own behavior and terrified that she’d ruined things forever.
After a few minutes, Carter came down the stairs. His wet hair was slicked back, and he’d dressed in the same clothes he’d discarded earlier. He didn’t look mad anymore. He looked…resigned.
“I’m going to go,” he said.
“What?” Josie couldn’t make sense of what was happening inside her, much less what anyone else was saying to her. She felt sick, scared, and like her whole world had just tilted.
“I’m going. You’re not in any kind of condition for whatever we were going to do earlier. And you need to get yourself cleaned up and go over to your parents,” he added.
“Why would I go there?”
He walked over to her and pulled her against him. In a surprisingly tender gesture, he kissed the top of her head. “Because if you don’t, you’re going to worry about it all night. Apologize to them. Let them apologize to you.”
“What about you? I owe you an apology too,” she said, and tried to choke back a sob.
“You don’t owe me anything. I can swallow my pride for a while longer, Josie. My ego’s pretty healthy. It can take it.”
She was still crying, but that did pull a soft laugh from her. “You’re better than people believe you are, Carter. And you’re better than I deserve.”
He wasn’t. But until she figured out just what she was worth, it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good to tell her that.
“Take a few days and let things calm down. Let people find something else to gossip about…and then we’ll embark on illicit affair part two.”
Carter left, heading out to his truck. Climbing behind the wheel, he sat there for a moment. It wasn’t what he wanted, but he’d take what he could get. The only other option was to walk away altogether, and he wasn’t ready for that yet.
His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and his whole body was tense with the combination of hurt, anger, and unslaked lust. There was only one option. Liquor.