Read Online Where Petals Fall by Melissa Foster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melissa Foster
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memory. Ellen had spent the night, and Junie awoke to Ellen’s empty sleeping bag next to her. She’d gone downstairs, looking for Ellen, and had come upon her father, Ellen’s feet kicking, a strangled sound emitting from her best friend’s throat. The den had been dark, almost pitch black, save for the moonlight peeking in through the window.
“Stop!” Junie yelled. “Stop it. Stop it!” She pulled on Brian’s back, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Brian whipped around. “What the heck, June?”
“Stop it!” she yelled. She swooped Sarah into her arms, cradling her like an infant. Sarah’s face was a mask of fear. Junie’s body shook and trembled. She looked from Sarah to Brian and back again.
“What the hell? I was finally getting through to her.”
Ruth ran into the room. “What’s going—”
“Stop,” Junie whispered.
“What the hell is wrong with you? I was tickling her.”
Junie looked down at her daughter, who now clung to her chest in fear, then up at Ruth, whose mouth hung open in confusion. Junie lowered herself to the couch, rocking Sarah against her.
“What is going on?” Mary Margaret towered over Junie, worry lines deep across her forehead. “Hon, please, you’ll upset your mother,” she said quietly.
Junie couldn’t speak—her voice was trapped beneath the rising memory. She remembered wanting to pound on her father’s back. She’d had no idea what he was doing to Ellen, but it felt wrong, very wrong, hidden, in fact. The silence of the guests, their openmouthed gazes, pressed in on her. What was she doing? She looked down at Sarah’s closed eyes. Tears tumbled down her cheeks in silent streams.
Mary Margaret sat next to her, her arm around Junie’s shoulder, her large hand pulling her close. She must have thought that Junie was having a hard time dealing with her father’s death. Junie wished she could tell her the truth, but if she couldn’t process what she’d seen, how could anyone else?
“I’m sorry,” Junie whispered.
They ate dinner in silence. Brian was still annoyed from Junie’s unexplained outburst, and Sarah withdrew even further into her usual introverted behavior. She flinched at loud noises, and she’d clung to Junie all afternoon. Junie pushed the lasagna around on her plate, unable to stomach a single bite of it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes on her plate.
No one responded.
Junie looked up at her mother. Dark circles made her eyes appear slate gray. A pang of guilt rode through Junie. “Mom, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
Brian slammed his fork down on the table so hard, Sarah burst into tears. His face reddened. “Damn it, Junie. All I want is to be part of this family, and as much as you say you want me to reach out to Sar—” He dropped his eyes to Sarah and began again, addressing Junie directly, this time suppressing his anger. “I am trying to reach out, and you are sabotaging my every effort.”
Junie shook her head. “I’m not, but…” Sarah clung to her arm. “Can we please talk about this later?”
Brian threw his napkin on the table and excused himself to the den.
“Want to talk about it?” Ruth asked.
Junie took the dish from her mother’s hands and began filling the dishwasher. She peered into the dining room, where Sarah sat peacefully playing a game on Junie’s laptop.
“I…I’m not sure what happened.” How could she tell her mother what she saw? What did it mean? What had her father been doing to Ellen? Why was he with her in the middle of the night? Junie wished she could put the fragments together and figure out something, anything that might help her to understand what was going on. “Mom, how often did Ellen spend the night?”
“Junie, don’t you want to talk about today? What’s going on? Brian is trying so hard, and you’re…I have no idea what you’re up to.” Ruth wrapped the leftover lasagna and put it in the fridge.
And say what? I
“Stop!” Junie yelled. “Stop it. Stop it!” She pulled on Brian’s back, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Brian whipped around. “What the heck, June?”
“Stop it!” she yelled. She swooped Sarah into her arms, cradling her like an infant. Sarah’s face was a mask of fear. Junie’s body shook and trembled. She looked from Sarah to Brian and back again.
“What the hell? I was finally getting through to her.”
Ruth ran into the room. “What’s going—”
“Stop,” Junie whispered.
“What the hell is wrong with you? I was tickling her.”
Junie looked down at her daughter, who now clung to her chest in fear, then up at Ruth, whose mouth hung open in confusion. Junie lowered herself to the couch, rocking Sarah against her.
“What is going on?” Mary Margaret towered over Junie, worry lines deep across her forehead. “Hon, please, you’ll upset your mother,” she said quietly.
Junie couldn’t speak—her voice was trapped beneath the rising memory. She remembered wanting to pound on her father’s back. She’d had no idea what he was doing to Ellen, but it felt wrong, very wrong, hidden, in fact. The silence of the guests, their openmouthed gazes, pressed in on her. What was she doing? She looked down at Sarah’s closed eyes. Tears tumbled down her cheeks in silent streams.
Mary Margaret sat next to her, her arm around Junie’s shoulder, her large hand pulling her close. She must have thought that Junie was having a hard time dealing with her father’s death. Junie wished she could tell her the truth, but if she couldn’t process what she’d seen, how could anyone else?
“I’m sorry,” Junie whispered.
They ate dinner in silence. Brian was still annoyed from Junie’s unexplained outburst, and Sarah withdrew even further into her usual introverted behavior. She flinched at loud noises, and she’d clung to Junie all afternoon. Junie pushed the lasagna around on her plate, unable to stomach a single bite of it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes on her plate.
No one responded.
Junie looked up at her mother. Dark circles made her eyes appear slate gray. A pang of guilt rode through Junie. “Mom, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
Brian slammed his fork down on the table so hard, Sarah burst into tears. His face reddened. “Damn it, Junie. All I want is to be part of this family, and as much as you say you want me to reach out to Sar—” He dropped his eyes to Sarah and began again, addressing Junie directly, this time suppressing his anger. “I am trying to reach out, and you are sabotaging my every effort.”
Junie shook her head. “I’m not, but…” Sarah clung to her arm. “Can we please talk about this later?”
Brian threw his napkin on the table and excused himself to the den.
“Want to talk about it?” Ruth asked.
Junie took the dish from her mother’s hands and began filling the dishwasher. She peered into the dining room, where Sarah sat peacefully playing a game on Junie’s laptop.
“I…I’m not sure what happened.” How could she tell her mother what she saw? What did it mean? What had her father been doing to Ellen? Why was he with her in the middle of the night? Junie wished she could put the fragments together and figure out something, anything that might help her to understand what was going on. “Mom, how often did Ellen spend the night?”
“Junie, don’t you want to talk about today? What’s going on? Brian is trying so hard, and you’re…I have no idea what you’re up to.” Ruth wrapped the leftover lasagna and put it in the fridge.
And say what? I
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