When she opened her eyes, she saw the cake and the wineglasses on the table. She felt cold and closed her eyes again.
He was standing over her; without looking she felt his presence.
“You’re all right,” he repeated. “Remember, nothing happened.”
“I have to go home,” she said, wiping her nose.
“You can’t go, crying like that.”
“I’m not crying anymore.” Then the thought struck her that perhaps he wasn’t going to let her out of the house, and she screamed again. “I have to go home.”
“Fine. No problem. Just wash your face and comb your hair, and I’ll take you.”
On the brief ride to her house, neither of them spoke until the car stopped and Ted said, “I think you’d better not come again.”
His tone was flat, but she understood his meaning. He was afraid of her now; he was in terror. In any case she had no intention of going near that house again, ever.
She walked in softly on tiptoe. At the end of the hall the door was open, revealing her father on the porch. She wanted only to hide in her room, but had barely set foot on the stairs before he heard her and called out.
“Where in heaven’s name have you been? Come in here, I want to talk to you.”
“I’m sick,” she mumbled, forestalling the question he would surely put when he saw her.
He rose from his chair, confronting her in the full blaze of afternoon light, and demanded, “What is wrong with you?”
“I feel like throwing up. I must have eaten something.”
“ ‘Must have’! What do you mean? You know what you ate. Where were you? It’s after five. I’ve been home since half past two. I called all your friends where I thought you might have gone, and then I had to give up. Where were you, I asked?”
“Ted and I took the dogs for a walk,” she said, looking down at her shoes.
“Ted. I told you yesterday that I didn’t want you there. I don’t like him. I have an uneasy feeling about him, Charlotte, and maybe that sounds crazy to you, and maybe I’m all wrong, but dammit, I’m your father, and I have a right to sound crazy. And I have a right to know why you went there when I told you not to.”
She had never seen her father so angry. Even during those overheard arguments with Elena, it had been she who had the hot temper, never he. And she waited in silence for him to finish.
“What does he want with a kid like you? He’s not right for you, he’s not honest, it’s written on his face. I don’t like this, Charlotte, I told you I didn’t and I’m telling you again. If you have any more dates with him, you’ll be in real trouble with me. Real trouble.And it seems to me that we’ve got enough troubles under this roof already.”
She trembled. A chill ran through her again; nausea filled her throat, and in a whisper she pleaded, “Dad, I have to go to the bathroom. I’m sick.”
She lay flat on her back, flung out, her body sore and bruised, until the nausea passed. If only she had someone to talk to. It had to be a woman, and there was none. Emmabrown would only scold like a fury. Claudia, who would not scold, was obviously out of the question, and Elena was far away. Maybe, though, she would be coming home soon. If only she would come home soon!
Two cold tears slid to her temples and lost themselves in the tangle of her hair. She felt terribly alone, lost in a strange place with no one to help her.
Presently the door opened, and her father came in, looking anxious. “Are you feeling better? Get up, honey.” And when she nodded, “I know I yelled. But it wasn’t really yelling. It was just being emphatic. You had me terribly scared. I didn’t know what might have happened to you.”
She got up and redid her hair in the familiar ponytail.
“Now you look like yourself,” Dad said, coaxing her, wanting her to smile and assure him that everything was all right again.
How could everything be all right? Over and over, all that week and beyond, she relived the terror and humiliation
He was standing over her; without looking she felt his presence.
“You’re all right,” he repeated. “Remember, nothing happened.”
“I have to go home,” she said, wiping her nose.
“You can’t go, crying like that.”
“I’m not crying anymore.” Then the thought struck her that perhaps he wasn’t going to let her out of the house, and she screamed again. “I have to go home.”
“Fine. No problem. Just wash your face and comb your hair, and I’ll take you.”
On the brief ride to her house, neither of them spoke until the car stopped and Ted said, “I think you’d better not come again.”
His tone was flat, but she understood his meaning. He was afraid of her now; he was in terror. In any case she had no intention of going near that house again, ever.
She walked in softly on tiptoe. At the end of the hall the door was open, revealing her father on the porch. She wanted only to hide in her room, but had barely set foot on the stairs before he heard her and called out.
“Where in heaven’s name have you been? Come in here, I want to talk to you.”
“I’m sick,” she mumbled, forestalling the question he would surely put when he saw her.
He rose from his chair, confronting her in the full blaze of afternoon light, and demanded, “What is wrong with you?”
“I feel like throwing up. I must have eaten something.”
“ ‘Must have’! What do you mean? You know what you ate. Where were you? It’s after five. I’ve been home since half past two. I called all your friends where I thought you might have gone, and then I had to give up. Where were you, I asked?”
“Ted and I took the dogs for a walk,” she said, looking down at her shoes.
“Ted. I told you yesterday that I didn’t want you there. I don’t like him. I have an uneasy feeling about him, Charlotte, and maybe that sounds crazy to you, and maybe I’m all wrong, but dammit, I’m your father, and I have a right to sound crazy. And I have a right to know why you went there when I told you not to.”
She had never seen her father so angry. Even during those overheard arguments with Elena, it had been she who had the hot temper, never he. And she waited in silence for him to finish.
“What does he want with a kid like you? He’s not right for you, he’s not honest, it’s written on his face. I don’t like this, Charlotte, I told you I didn’t and I’m telling you again. If you have any more dates with him, you’ll be in real trouble with me. Real trouble.And it seems to me that we’ve got enough troubles under this roof already.”
She trembled. A chill ran through her again; nausea filled her throat, and in a whisper she pleaded, “Dad, I have to go to the bathroom. I’m sick.”
She lay flat on her back, flung out, her body sore and bruised, until the nausea passed. If only she had someone to talk to. It had to be a woman, and there was none. Emmabrown would only scold like a fury. Claudia, who would not scold, was obviously out of the question, and Elena was far away. Maybe, though, she would be coming home soon. If only she would come home soon!
Two cold tears slid to her temples and lost themselves in the tangle of her hair. She felt terribly alone, lost in a strange place with no one to help her.
Presently the door opened, and her father came in, looking anxious. “Are you feeling better? Get up, honey.” And when she nodded, “I know I yelled. But it wasn’t really yelling. It was just being emphatic. You had me terribly scared. I didn’t know what might have happened to you.”
She got up and redid her hair in the familiar ponytail.
“Now you look like yourself,” Dad said, coaxing her, wanting her to smile and assure him that everything was all right again.
How could everything be all right? Over and over, all that week and beyond, she relived the terror and humiliation
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