Broken Like Glass, page 14
"Okay, Papa. I think I understand."
"Good night, my sweet Lilly."
"Good night, Papa."
I roll over, tuck my hands under my pillow, and close my eyes. My talk with Papa has worn me out.
Chapter Thirty-One
The next afternoon, after I've slept past what most people would call midmorning, I'm getting dressed because Uriah is coming over to take me for a walk around the pond. He's promised ice cream and good conversation.
I'm in the bathroom, looking in the mirror, and I realize for the first time in a while that I actually see myself. It takes me by surprise. It's been a long time since I've really taken a hard look. I've got a heart-shaped face, thin lips, and a seemingly proportionate nose. That said, I don't look half bad when I think about it. I'm not saying I'm pretty by any stretch, but I'd have to wear a mask at Halloween if I want to scare anybody.
When I finish my once-over, I walk out of the bathroom, and as I get to the living room, there's a knock on the door. Uriah's early, and it makes my heart smile. If only he knew what he means to me.
In my mind, Papa speaks, but I interrupt Him. "I know, Papa. Just give me time."
I'm not paying attention, and as I open the door, I say, "Hey, Uriah," but it's not Uriah. My face falls, and I'm standing directly in front of my daddy. I can smell cigarettes and alcohol pouring off him. His face is scraggly, and his clothes look like he's been sleeping in them for a few days.
What really scares me is the look on his face. A furrowed brow, red-rimmed eyes, and a twisted mouth tell me he's about to pay me back for all those times I've smarted back, caused him grief, and, most of all, for stabbing him in Thriftway.
I try to slam the door, but he uses the force of his entire body to push it open, so I turn to run. He kicks me in the butt, and I sprawl out on the floor. I try to scramble up, and he kicks me again, cracking my head on the coffee table. My ears ring, and the world spins.
Touching my head, I find there's a fair amount of blood. When I try to stand again, Daddy grabs a handful of my hair and slaps me across the face. "I told you, girl. I told you I'd get you one day, and today is my day." He grabs me by my chin, his fingernails digging into my skin, and puts his face in mine.
"You better go, Daddy. Uriah should be here any time, and if he..." With the way Daddy is holding my face, it comes out muddled.
Letting go of my hair, Daddy strikes me across the face with his fist, and I fall to the floor. I try to crawl away. I think if I can get somewhere, maybe I can fight back or hide or something, but Daddy's got different plans. He's come with a force I've been running from for years.
As I crawl, Daddy kicks me in the stomach. That's when I know for sure he's come to hurt me and hurt me good. He's got his pointed boots on, and that point connects with one of my ribs, snapping it.
I hear a rattle of tiny metal and the zip of a belt being pulled out of pant loops. I drag my eyes up to his face, and what I see is hatred. He hates me. He's hated me for a long time. I just don't know why.
"Daddy, why do you hate me?"
He stops and looks at me, confused for a second like he's never even given it a moment's thought. Then he pulls his arm back. I hold up my hand, trying to keep the belt from hitting, but it lands around my arm and across my back with a smack. "Your mouth. That's why. You always had to talk like you knew better than me."
He reaches back, and the belt comes down hard again. "You always talked like you were better than me. You were nothing but dirt, just like your drug-addict daddy. I hated him too. Your face just reminds me of his face. I tried to love you, but every time I looked at your face, it was just your ornery, dirty daddy looking back at me."
"Daddy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please stop!"
"Too late, girl."
After that, I guess he's explained all he's going to explain, because he hits me with the belt again and again and again, punctuated with kicks each time. Daddy kicks me so hard that I come up off the floor and land with a thud each time.
It's funny...I'm lying there, and I realize two things. One, my daddy is going to beat me to death, and, two, of all the times to remember something, I remember why I stabbed him in Thriftway. Now I can tell Chrissy what happened. A giggle slips out at the thought.
Daddy grabs me by the hair again to pull me up off the floor. I've got no strength to help, so my head feels like it's being scalped. He digs his fingers into my chin again.
I can't really see his face. My vision is blurry either from the beating or the blood. He slaps me again, but I don't feel much at this point.
I'm dazed. Daddy starts talking, and it sounds like he's in a wind tunnel. "Your momma always tried to come between me and you. Always tried to explain your smart mouth," he says as his spittle hits my lips and cheeks.
He levels his gaze at me and smiles a sinister smile, making me wish I'd never been born. "I knew what Marlin was doing to you. You and your momma thought I didn't, but I did. Your momma whooped you 'cause she thought she was keeping me outta jail, but she didn't know I knew. I knew, and I was glad it was happening. Your high-and-mighty rear-end getting what was coming to ya 'cause your momma wouldn't let me whip you like I wanted." He shoves me back against the wall with his hand squeezing my throat.
I try to claw at his hands, gasping for air. My lungs are burning as he watches me fight, getting joy from it.
When he lets go, I land hard on the floor. I'm coughing, trying to get air as my ears ring and my head swims. I can't do anything but lie there while Daddy begins beating me again. Every ounce of my strength is gone.
I vaguely make out that Uriah's come in the door.
Daddy's cussin' and shoutin'.
There's a scuffle.
Then Uriah is cradling me, brushing the hair off my face and speaking softly. "Oh, my Lilly. Oh, my sweet Lilly."
I blink a few times, but my vision is still fuzzy.
"The ambulance is on the way, Lilly. You hold on. You hear me?"
I'm numb and can taste blood in my mouth. It makes me wonder what's bleedin' on the inside. It's hard to concentrate, and a thought comes to my mind: I'm dying.
I've spent all this time with Uriah, scared to death to feel anything. I've kept him at arm's length because other people have hurt me and I'm afraid of him doing the same. He's been nothing but good to me, and I've treated him like people have treated me.
There's excited movement in the living room, and I hear muffled voices.
The need to tell Uriah before I go is overwhelming. "Uriah, I love you. I love you with all my heart."
I don't know if I've said it loud enough for Uriah to hear me or what. Whatever Daddy's done to me, he's done it good and proper, and I can't stay anymore.
Chapter Thirty-Two
As I wake up, I put together that I'm in a hospital. Everything is quiet and serene, minus a few chirping noises here and there. It smells sterile and clean.
I ache all over.
My left arm is in a cast, every breath I take burns, and when I look down with the one eye that isn't so swollen, any visible skin is covered in bruises in varying shades of black and purple. My throat is sore, and my mouth is dry, so when I try to speak, it comes out as a grunt.
Uriah is haloed by the light as he moves to stand over me.
I peer up with my one good eye. "Hi," I whisper. "I guess I'm not dead."
"Hi," he says, and his voice cracks. "Not for a lack of trying. That's for sure."
"Are you okay?"
"Am I okay?" he asks and sits on the edge of the bed. "No, I'm not."
"Did Daddy get you too?"
"He hurt you, and that was all it took."
"I hurt, Uriah."
I know he's pressed the nurse call button when I hear a voice speak and say, "Can I help you?"
"She's hurting," Uriah says.
"We'll be there in a moment."
"Where is my daddy?"
"He's sitting in jail at the moment."
"Jail?"
"Yep. The police picked him up after he left the cabin. Bo got pictures of you when they first brought you in and showed them to Judge Kringle. He's going to be there for a while."
"Bo was here?"
"Yeah, he saw you and broke down crying. He took pictures and left without saying much of anything."
"They won't keep my daddy. Judge Kringle has known him a long time. He could've killed me, and he'd still not have to worry about jail."
"Well, they have him in there, so Judge Kringle must think something."
"It's a formality. He'll be out in no time."
"He's been there three days so far."
"Three days? I've been out three days?"
"Your dad worked you over pretty good. You've got three broken ribs on the right side and one broken rib and three cracked ribs on the left. It's a pure miracle you didn't bleed internally."
"I thought it was you. I thought you'd come by early. I opened the door without looking. He came in so fast and furious that I didn't have time to get away. I just wasn't expecting him at the cabin, at all." I shift and immediately wish I hadn't. The pain makes me breathless.
Uriah pushes the button again and reminds the nurse that I'm still hurting.
"I probably should go so you can rest."
I grab his hand, the idea of him leaving throwing me into a panic. "Please don't go, Uriah. Please, don't. Don't leave me here. I know Daddy is in jail, but people know him. They like him, and I just know he won't stay there." Tears pool in my eyes. I don't know if it's the thought of being alone or the idea that I wasn't going to see him again.
"I don't need an explanation as to why you want me to stay. I'll stay. Momma should be up after a while. She's been coming by and staying when I go home, take a shower, and eat." Uriah leans down and kisses me on the forehead.
"I think Daddy came to kill me," I confess. "If you hadn't been picking me up, he'd have done it, too."
Uriah straightens. "I wish I could disagree, but with what I saw, I know you're right. He wouldn't take me on, though. He thought he could, but I tossed his rear out the door and called the police. He hightailed it as soon as I dialed the number."
"It won't matter. You just wait. He'll find a way out."
Uriah shakes his head. "I don't think so. I think he's in trouble this time."
"You don't know my daddy or his friends. You don't know how mean he is."
"You give him too much power." Uriah wants to take my hand, but he also doesn't want to hurt me, so he braces his hand on the bed and leans over me.
I can't seem to make him understand. My daddy has power in this small town. They all knew what he was like, but it was an unspoken truth. It was the "smile to your face and stab you in the back" type of knowing. "You don't give him enough."
"Lilly, he's in trouble," he insists.
"Momentarily, sure, but you don't know. You don't know him like I do."
Uriah looks at me, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together tight. "You're really scared of him getting out."
"I think I have reason to be. That day in Thriftway, I was helping him do some grocery shopping. We were going to go home, and he was going to cook dinner for me. I don't know what either of us said, but he said something, and I was trying to be funny. He took it like I was bein' a smart mouth. He grabbed me by the hair and told me he was sick of my smart mouth."
Uriah's eyes widen, and his lips part.
The memory is back, and it's playing in color. "We were looking at cups because he'd broken his favorite one. He had one in his hand, and he reached back with it and looked around to make sure no one was looking. He was going to hit me with it. It's why I stabbed him. I fought against him 'cause he was going to hurt me. I knew right then he was going to hurt me and hurt me bad. He didn't care where we were."
"And you forgot that?"
"I think I was trying to protect myself. I didn't want to think my own daddy wanted to hurt me. It bothers me to think that the people who were supposed to love me didn't. Momma tried to love me, but she loved Daddy more, and she would protect him over me. It was war in my house most of the time. Momma keeping Daddy from me, and me trying to survive. It's why I ran from here. It's why it's hard to be here. All those memories. All those things that happened."
What builds in my chest pains me like nothing I've felt, and I begin to sob. "Mr. Marlin still looks at me like I'm a piece of trash. Daddy told me he knew about Mr. Marlin." I can't decide if I'm brokenhearted because my daddy hates me or because my daddy knew someone was hurting me and didn't care.
Uriah gently puts his arms around me and holds me against him. "You break my heart, Lillian James. No one ever deserves to be treated like that, least of all you."
Chapter Thirty-Three
Between Uriah and his momma, I have someone with me at all times while I'm in the hospital. The first few days after I come to, I'm so sore I can barely breathe. My daddy has worked me over, and every square inch of me feels it.
I'm lying in bed on the fifth day, and Uriah is slouched down in the chair with his feet on the sofa when Dr. Sands comes in. He greets me with a smile and glances down at the chart he's holding.
Uriah stands and shakes his hand.
"How are you feeling?" Dr. Sands asks and checks the monitors attached to me.
"'Bout as good as a fresh bruise is supposed to feel, I guess."
"Well, you're going to feel sore for a while. Do you have someone to stay with while you recover?"
I start to say something, and Uriah speaks up. "Yes, sir, she does." He looks at me.
"Well, I think we can discharge you today. I've got some prescriptions I'm gonna send you home with, mostly for pain. You'll need to check in with your primary doctor to get your cast removed in six weeks."
"Yes, sir," I say.
"A nurse will be in after a while with some papers to sign, and you'll be free to go," he says and smiles before walking out the door.
I look at Uriah. "You know I can't stay with you. People will talk, and I won't have them saying hateful things about you and your momma."
Uriah puts his hands on his hips with a look of defiance. "I don't care what anyone says. You've stayed your last time at the cabin. We have a big enough house that you can have your own room, and Momma will make sure nothing funny is going on."
"I just don't feel right about it." I'm still not used to the cast, and I bump my head with it and wince. "Stupid cast. I can't wait to get this thing off."
"Lilly, no one is going to say anything. You need time to heal, and someone has to take care of you. Believe me, if Momma had a problem with you, you'd know it."
I shake my head and look down. "I hate that all this has happened. It's like I can't get away from trouble. I hurt everyone around me."
"You haven't hurt anyone. If anything, you're the one who's been hurt."
I look at him, frustrated beyond belief. "Yeah, but all my problems...all this stuff is bleeding outside the edges and touching the people I love."
Uriah smiles. "People?"
I bite my lip. It's not like I've forgotten what I said that day. I remember it, but I haven't said it again. I think it was easier to say when I thought there wasn't a chance for disappointment. Now, I'm alive and kicking, and the words rest on the end of my tongue and refuse to budge.
"Yes, people."
"I heard you that day," Uriah says. "Don't think I didn't."
I can't meet his eyes. I'm ashamed and embarrassed that I can't say it again.
He sits on the edge of the bed, tips my chin until I'm looking him in the eyes, and smiles. "I'm going to go home and get things ready for you. Will you be okay alone a little while?"
"I will."
He bends down and kisses my forehead. I've come to enjoy those little kisses. It's like he's telling me everything is going to be okay with just a simple touch.
He stands and walks to the door.
"Would you mind shutting the door?" I ask. "Papa and I need to talk."
He smiles and slips out the door, shutting it behind him.
I lie back on the bed and close my eyes. I still hurt pretty much everywhere. I think I've even got a bruise on my pinky toe.
"Papa?" I can't feel Him, and I haven't talked to Him since Daddy put me in the hospital. "Papa, please come talk to me." I reach for Him, and it's like He's just out of arm's reach.
I cover my face with my hands, making sure not to conk myself with my stupid cast. The tears pouring down my face feel like a waterfall. "Papa, please come talk to me. I need you to talk to me. Please."
It feels like He's not coming. I'm alone, and I feel emptier than I have in years. At this point, I'm hopeless. Papa's not coming. Somehow, I've pushed Him away, and I'm in this desert with no signs of life.
It hurts to cry like this too. That deep-down-ache type of cry that wears you out and makes you feel like you've been climbing a mountain. It would hurt without all the bruises, but with them, the pain is unbelievable.
Just when I think Papa has decided not to show up, I feel Him park Himself in the chair right by my bed. "Hello, Lilly," He says.
"Where have you been, Papa? I've been calling and calling. Didn't you hear me?" I ask through sobs. It feels like my soul is physically bleeding.
"I heard you. I'm here. I just needed your heart open."
"I hurt Papa." It comes out more like a wail.
"I know, sweetest. I know." His voice is soft and comforting.
"Did you know Daddy hated me?"
"I did."
I'm gobsmacked. Papa knew? "Then why did you give me to him?"
Papa shakes His head. "I didn't."
"You didn't stop it."
"I couldn't. I can't take away free will. If I'd stopped it, what do you think would have happened? Do you think Lucy and Will would have changed?"
"No, but there had to be better people who could raise me."
Papa sits quietly a second. "Lilly, they had choices to make, and they didn't ask me. They didn't want me. People have to want me and my best for them. Forcing people to do anything isn't a relationship. I want a relationship, Lilly. I want to be the desire of your heart. I can't force that. I won't."
