Hell's Belles Page 7

  I sat up, touched by these two who were giving up a night of affection for me. “No, it’s okay. Let’s just come up with a warning system or something.” I walked over to my closet and pulled out one of the numerous hand bags that lined the shelves. “Just hang this on the doorknob so I know I’m not coming back to an empty room. That way I know what to be prepared for.”

  “Ha! So a Birkin on the doorknob to alert you. That is such a Belle move.” Palmer suddenly picked me up and swung me around. He was well-built, but lifting me seemed completely effortless to him, like picking up a pillow. I was no pixie, and hadn’t had anybody grab me like that since I’d been a little girl. I yelped in surprise. “Works for me. Thanks, Emma. I appreciate you being so great about this. I hope Josephine can cheer you up a bit.”

  With that, he opened up one of the enormous floor to ceiling windows that went out onto a terrace, and he was gone.

  “Does he climb down?” I asked, glancing out. “Where does he go? How does he get over the walls that are around this place?”

  Josephine shrugged and smiled nervously. “He figures it out.”

  We sat quietly for a moment. The events of dinner had faded a bit and I didn’t feel as despondent as I had earlier. I did have one question for Josephine.

  “What’s a Birkin?” I asked.

  Josephine laughed. “Oh, Em. You’re so fun. It’s a designer purse. Birkin is the name of it. It’s made by Hermes. You never knew?”

  I shook my head. “Like I said. I don’t belong here.”

  “But you do! You belong here just as much as any of us. You’re a missing piece, Em. Haven’t you felt that at all yet?”

  I felt like I was the one missing the pieces. How was that so hard to understand?

  Josephine and I mostly talked about my mother that night. What she was like, how hard it was to be doing all of this without her. It was one of the first times I had really spoken out loud what was swirling in my head. With Jo I felt so calm. There was a peace about her, and a warmth that made it easy to open up. I was grateful that in this chaos she could be counted on to be kind. There was a coldness to the Embers. Clearly with Calista but even with Virginia. I didn’t doubt Virginia cared about me (for whatever reason that was), but I still felt a distance with her. There was none of that with Josephine.

  “So your mom was a teacher? What did she teach?” Josephine reached into a bowl of chips that Chantelle had sent up to us upon our request. A silver tray with bottled sodas and cupcakes sat between us.

  “History,” I said, taking a bite out of a chocolate ganache filled piece of heaven. “Mostly US History, but it could vary depending on the school year and what they needed. It was her passion. Our vacations always revolved around American monuments. By the time I was in middle school I had been to DC probably ten times, Mount Rushmore a couple more, and just about every presidential library you can think of. But she also loved teaching her kids about the women who have shaped this country. She must have had dozens of biographies. Actually, at least a hundred. Our house was filled with books. It was a shrine to the American story.”

  Josephine stopped eating for a moment. “That’s incredible. I wish I could have talked to her. I bet we would have had amazing conversations. I’m kind of an unconventional expert in the history of our country. She sounds amazing. And your dad? Was he a teacher?”

  I shook my head. “No, he was a social worker. His job was a lot more complicated. There were days he came home and he couldn’t speak much. He saw and heard of a lot tough things. Especially in California. More people equals more problems sometimes. There were days I could hear him talking to my mom in their bedroom about how much longer he thought he could do it. He felt like it was desensitizing him to human pain, he had to compartmentalize so much. We could never discuss a lot of stuff about what he did every day. Just that he couldn’t give up. That the future was his kids and they depended on him to stay strong. There was so much no one could control in that line of work and that had to be hard for him. So he clung to us, we were his refuge.” I was startled to even hear myself say these things. I guess you never truly understand someone until they aren’t around to explain it all. His absence had brought a clarity to who my dad was to me.

  “And your sister?” Jo almost whispered it. Maybe she could sense that was the hardest part to talk about.

  I was quiet for a moment, thinking of Merritt. When I thought of her, what jumped to mind first was her smile. It wasn’t a perfect one. One of her front incisors went in slightly. But it was beautiful. She kept her hair short once she was in high school. A short pixie cut that brought out her angular features. She was all sharp edges and she had piercing green eyes. Merritt was my best friend in the world. We were only a year apart, and there wasn’t much we didn’t know about the other. Her absence had been the most difficult of all of them.

  “Merritt was everything I wasn’t,” I finally said. “She was really confident. I’ve never met someone our age that gave less of a shit about what people thought of her. People were drawn to her because of that. They knew she was authentic, the real deal. That’s pretty rare in high school. She was adventurous. There wasn’t much she was scared of. I actually can’t think of a single thing. We used to climb mountains together. Merritt wasn’t someone who had to stop to take a break. She wasn’t happy until she had conquered something. But she also really loved her friends, and she especially loved me. Even though she was clearly the cooler of the two of us she never made me feel less important. Her grades were great, she was athletic, she could sing, she could draw. I mean seriously, the girl was good at everything she tried to do.” I was shaking, “I don’t know what happens to me without Merritt. There isn’t a memory I have where she isn’t there.”

  Josephine’s eyes were filled with tears.

  “Why are you crying, silly?” I said, swiping the back of my hand across my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

  “It’s just I can feel your pain,” she said, touching her chest. “I can feel it and I know how deep it goes. How can I not cry?”

  I looked at her and I believed her. She really seemed to know exactly what this felt like. Grief was the price of love, after all. Perhaps Josephine had lost people too.

  “Where are you parents?” I asked.

  Josephine shook her head. “Long gone. Many lifetimes ago. It’s not a road we can go down tonight, sweet friend.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, expelling a sob. “I’m so sorry, Em. I know you feel like I’m practically a stranger. I wish I could make you understand how much I wish this hadn’t happened to you. If I could go back and change it all, I would. My curse is that I can only go forward.”

  “When can I finally know what’s happening here?” I asked, snapping out of my own mourning for a moment. “I feel like I’m waiting for something to happen and I hate it.”

  “Virginia decides when you’re ready, Em.” She paused for a moment, tracing my finger with the tip of her own, making a sound like she wanted to say something, then swallowing it. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking,” I said, “That I’m in for a hell of a surprise and I’m not sure how many more I can handle.”

  Josephine left my room at midnight. She told me Palmer would probably come tomorrow night.

  “Is that okay?” she asked.

  “Of course it is. But seriously, why the secrets? Why doesn’t Virginia like him?”

  Josephine smiled. “It’s not that she doesn’t like him. She just thinks it’s a bad idea for us to be together. Separate from that, I would guess that Virginia actually likes him a lot. Palmer is someone that everyone likes. Kind of like Merritt.”

  With that she opened my door and was gone. I peered out into the vast darkness of the hallway outside my bedroom. My thoughts flickered to the other women of the Embers home. Where was Calista? What was Virginia waiting for? My head was heavy from the night of confessional tears and I was spent. I didn’t have room for anymore thoughts. I need
ed sleep.

  Chapter 11

  I slept until almost noon the next day.

  Fiona was tapping on my door, which is the only reason I woke up at all. It was one of the best nights of sleep I had gotten since my family died. No dreams, no panic attacks, no restlessness. Just solid, deep hibernation.

  “Emma, you alright? It’s lunch time and Virginia was worried you might be sick.”

  “I’m alright. You can come in.”

  Fiona entered, a concerned look on her face. It reminded me of my mother. She came over and without saying anything put her cool palm against my forehead.

  “Fiona, I’m not sick. I’m a teenager. It’s Saturday.”

  Fiona shook her head. “It’s a beautiful day in a beautiful city. You’re missing it! Get up and out! There are Citadel boys jogging shirtless around the Battery. The girls are down by the pool sunbathing. Enjoy this day! Want me to send up some lunch while you get dressed?”

  “Sure. A bagel. With cream cheese. And maybe lox? Do we have any of that?”

  Fiona nodded. “Calista loves her lox, too. See? You have something in common!”

  I rolled my eyes as Fiona shut the door behind her. Our affinity for salty, processed salmon was probably one of the only common threads between me and Calista Embers.

  I glanced out my window and past the terrace, which looked out onto the backyard. Sure enough, there was Calista and Josephine. They were both in pastel two pieces, their skin shining in the sun. Josephine had a hat on and I could see her talking animatedly to a bored-looking Calista. I hesitated to join them. Especially in a two piece. That wasn’t happening.

  I found a patterned one-piece halter swimsuit in the back of the closet. It would do. I prayed Calista didn’t comment on my jiggly thighs.

  Fiona brought up a tray with my lunch. I scarfed it down as I squeezed into my bathing suit. A glance in the mirror told me I was having a bad hair day. Hopefully I could get into the pool and under water before anyone noticed my myriad flaws.

  As I was swigging down my tea, I saw Aleta saunter toward the pool. Suddenly she turned, looked up at my window and waved at me, as if she knew I was watching. Josephine turned to see what Aleta was waving at and motioned me to come out onto the terrace.

  “Em! You coming down?” she called up.

  “I’ll be right down.” I noticed Calista didn’t even turn to see me. My stomach dropped.

  Again, Aleta sensed my anxiety. “Don’t worry, Emma! Calista is on her best behavior today. I promise.”

  I wrapped a towel around my waist, grabbed a book, and nervously headed down.

  As soon as I reached the lounge chairs I immediately wished I had gone to the Battery instead.

  Calista looked like something out of Swimsuit Illustrated. She had the most perfect body I had ever seen. She was willowy and slightly muscular but had feminine curves in all the right places. Her skin was flawless. She wore incredibly expensive-looking sunglasses and her hair was piled up on top of her head in a beautifully messy chignon. Even her toenails were perfect and pedicured. With the sunglasses I couldn’t see her expression. Despite the almost 100-degree temperature and the swampy humidity, she didn’t even look like she was sweating.

  Aleta reclined next to her. She was almost equally as stunning. She had dark skin that also seemed to gleam under the Charleston rays. Her two piece rode up her perfect hips and her legs looked like they were miles long. She had thick, dreadlocked braids that fell down her faultless backside. She was exotic, mysterious and I could barely stop staring at her.

  Josephine was different. She too had a beautiful body, but it was more on the normal side of the spectrum, though still enviable. In any other city across the country, Josephine would have been the most beautiful girl. She had sleek, perfect legs and slightly freckled skin. Her strawberry blonde hair was in a wraparound braid across the crown of her head.

  Despite her being the most approachable of the three, I still felt like a wilting onion in a field of roses.

  There was no way I was taking the towel from my waist and showing my pale, imperfect figure to these goddesses.

  “Em! Let’s get in the pool. Calista and Aleta are being tiresome and refusing to get wet. All because of their hair.” Josephine bounded up next to me.

  “Some of us,” said Calista, “Were up early getting a fresh blowout. It took Dimitri an hour to get my hair like this.”

  “And I just don’t feel like swimming,” Aleta said.

  “Whatever,” Josephine rolled her eyes. “Will you get in with me?”

  I was terrified. I clutched my towel.

  Aleta stood up. “Emma, you look beautiful. You don’t have to worry about anything. No one here is judging you.”

  I expected Calista to make a remark but she said nothing. She wasn’t even looking at us. She had started reading a magazine.

  “How did you know I was even worried about that?” I asked Aleta.

  She shrugged. “I just sensed your apprehension.”

  Well, now that everyone really was looking, I guessed it didn’t matter at that point what I looked like. I threw off the towel and before anyone could get a long look at my Manitoba-sized ass and cellulite, I jumped into the pool. Josephine followed suit and as soon as we surfaced she was laughing.

  “Woo hoo!” she yelled, grabbing my shoulders. “We’ve christened the pool! First swim of the year!”

  It was such a normal moment. A beautiful, warm, Charleston day. I was in a sparkling pool with chic girls in a mysterious city. For a moment I could forget what I had lost. For just a moment, I was able to feel like things would be okay.

  Josephine and I swam for about an hour. I noticed at one point that Calista had taken her sunglasses off and was snoozing under Josephine’s floppy wide brim hat. Aleta had grabbed my paperback and was reading it. Walter, back from his short sabbatical, had brought out mason jars of sweet tea and lemonade. A warm breeze swayed the Spanish moss hanging from the live oaks above us.

  So this was what my dad had missed. On his worst days back in California he would reminisce about his southern youth. Climbing live oaks, trips to the beach, drinking sweet tea and eating lots of fried things. He missed how slow things were, the gentility of life. About a year ago I had heard him whispering to my mom in their bedroom, which was right next to mine. He spoke of the desire to go back. My mother was having none of it.

  “Don’t you remember why we left? How could we ever go back to that?”

  He would mumble something and they would turn on their TV and I couldn’t hear anything else. But the memory of that was now hitting me. Why couldn’t they go back? What did my mother have against this place?

  Perhaps if she had given it a chance they’d still be alive. Maybe if she had known what was to come she would have packed us up right then, on the spot.

  I must have had a funny look on my face because I caught Aleta staring at me.

  Instead she said. “Have you read this before?” She held up Flannery O’Connor.

  “Only about half a dozen times.”

  Aleta smiled. “She’s great, isn’t she? I had forgotten. Mind if I borrow it for the night?”

  “Sure,” I said, climbing out of the pool. I drip-walked over to my towel. “Keep it as long as you need to.”

  “Let me see that,” Calista said. I hadn’t even realized she was awake.

  Suddenly instead of taking the book from Aleta’s hand, the book zipped over to her on its own.

  “What the hell?!” I jumped out of my skin. In the midst of this, without knowing, Josephine was behind me. Due to my surprise, I had pushed/fallen into her. She slipped and immediately fell back into the shallow end of the pool.

  “Jo!” I said, “I’m so sorry!”

  She didn’t come to the surface.

  “Shit, I think she hit her head,” Aleta immediately jumped in. It all happened in a matter of seconds, but as I dripped on the side of the pool time slowed. I was horrified.

  My heart was
thumping. Calista was standing next to me, shaking. Aleta laid Josephine on the pool deck. I knelt next to Josephine and noticed a small pool of blood around her head. Without realizing it, my hand pressed into her forearm.

  “Jo! Jo! I am so sorry, I didn’t know! I didn’t know you were behind me!” I was crying.

  Suddenly, the best sound in the world came. Josephine started coughing up water. Her eyes flew open and she sat up.

  “Holy hell, what happened?” she sputtered. Aleta wrapped her arm around her.

  “Whoa there,” Aleta said, “Take it easy. You fell in and hit your head, probably knocked you out for a second. You weren’t in long enough to breathe in too much water, I hope. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Josephine reached back toward her head, “I don’t feel like I hit it.”

  I looked at the blood on the pool deck. “Yeah, you definitely did. Let me take a look.”

  I didn’t touch her at first. Were we even supposed to let her sit up? Wasn’t there something about head injuries? Thoughts swirled through my head. Merritt would have known what to do. As I looked over Josephine’s head I saw nothing. I started going through her wet hair. There should have been blood in it.

  Nothing. I couldn’t see a thing. She didn’t look like she had an injury at all.

  “So it’s true.”

  Calista. I looked up to see her and Aleta both staring at me.

  “I told you.” Aleta was smiling.

  “What’s true?” I asked. Josephine turned around. Her mouth was open and her eyes were wide.

  “Emma,” Josephine took my hands in hers, turned them over and back again. “You healed me.”

  “I what?” I asked. “Healed you?”

  “Yes,” Josephine kept holding my hands. “Virginia said you could do it. She said that was why you were important.”

  As soon as she said it, my memory flooded back.

  “Brian, I swear,” my mother was talking to my father on our drive back to California from Red Rock. “Merritt was seriously hurt. Emma saw it too. Right, Emma?” My mother glanced back at me from the front of the car, her eyes pleading for reassurance that she wasn’t crazy.