Lillian’s parents were a different story. Her father was a laborer, her mother a seamstress. These things could happen in their neighborhood.
But Carrie? And Shirley? Shirley was the woman who’d taught Lillian how to be the perfect housewife and hostess, how to teach etiquette lessons, for goodness’ sake.
Lillian looked around Shirley’s living room. Carrie, Irene, and Harriet were looking at Shirley—and no wonder. Ruth’s face had drained of blood, and her eyes held a dazed expression. For once she said nothing.
Lillian’s heart sank. Not Leon. That sweet man adored his wife; anyone could see that. He could never have beaten her up—not even in some distant past. Yet she’d never known Shirley to lie. Omit the truth maybe, spin a few euphemisms, but not out-and-out lie.
It was Shirley who broke the silence. “I was engaged to someone else before I married Leon.”
Lillian heard a collective sigh and realized she hadn’t exhaled in quite a long time. She hadn’t been the only one holding her breath.
“My first fiancé beat me—badly.”
Lillian saw something in Shirley’s eyes that made her want to comfort her. “Shirley . . . I’m so sorry. I had no idea. You never said.”
She suddenly wondered if Shirley had assumed no one would believe her—just as Lillian hadn’t believed Ruth about Carrie.
Her mother’s scar. The cigar. Keeping her husband’s abuse locked away to protect herself, her family. So as not to encounter any of the shame or blame associated with it. After all, people in the neighborhood she grew up in used to say that the wives probably deserved it. That marriage was private. That it wasn’t their place to interfere.
Shirley nodded at Lillian before she went on. “No, I never said. I was ashamed of it. It was rough. He broke my arm, and my ribs. I had a concussion. Besides, he was always sorry afterward.”
Sorry? When he’d broken her bones? No wonder Shirley was so tough.
Ruth gasped and reached out for her mother-in-law’s arm. Lillian was glad that Ruth hadn’t hesitated to support Shirley. The girl hadn’t hesitated when it came to Carrie, either—and Lillian had done nothing to help. Worse, she’d practically kicked her out the door.
Irene was visibly upset by Shirley’s story. Even Harriet looked shaken. As for Carrie—her tears were flowing unchecked now. Little rivulets streamed down her face.
“In the emergency room, he told them I fell off my bike,” Shirley said. “I don’t think they believed him, but no one did anything. Not the police, not my parents. God forbid I break the engagement. My mother asked me what I’d done to deserve it, and my father acted like the bike charade was true.”
Lillian was grateful that all eyes were on Shirley as she felt a wave of rage rising within her. It must surely be visible on her face. Her grandparents must have known that their own son hurt Anna. Tortured her. And they’d done nothing. Except had her committed—so the rest of the world wouldn’t learn the truth about their son and his family. Her grandparents hadn’t rescued her. They were the reason she’d needed rescuing in the first place. They’d stolen her childhood. She clenched her fists and looked around for a cigarette. There was no rule of etiquette that could deal with this situation.
Shirley continued in a calm, controlled voice. “My fiancé was highly educated, from a good family. He lived on his own—he was studying law. Leon lived in the apartment next to his and was finishing his studies in accounting. The police never questioned Leon about what he might have seen or heard. But he knew something bad was going on, and he came to see me in the hospital. They decided to keep me in for a few days, maybe as a way of protecting me. But I didn’t even want to see Leon because I looked so terrible.”
Lillian squeezed and released Shirley’s arm.
The other girls nodded, urging Shirley to go on.
“He told me he’d suspected what was really going on. Said he was sorry for not intervening somehow. There was nothing he could have done, anyway, and I told him so. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he told me I never had to lay eyes on that guy again.”
Irene wanted details. “Did he have a plan?”
“I guess so. I never asked. I was desperate and naive, so I just had to trust him. I wanted him to make my fiancé go away.”
Ruth gulped. “What happened?”
“Leon went to a lawyer who said there were no laws that covered my case. I was only a fiancée. Not that a wife would fare much better.”
Lillian couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her lips. Even if her mother had reached out for help, there probably was none to be had. Not from family. Not from friends. Not from doctors. And definitely not from the law.
“He went to the wrong lawyer,” Ruth said. She looked over at Carrie. “It’s different now.”
“Others said that since I hadn’t called the police, hadn’t pressed charges, it was a ‘he said, she said’ situation.”
Shirley, who had always seemed so in control, suddenly showed a level of sadness that had never surfaced in Lillian’s presence. Only now did Lillian appreciate the toll this was taking on her friend. She was sorry Shirley had not told her before, but likely Lillian would not have known what to do. Would she even have believed her?
“Even though he’d hurt you enough to put you in the hospital?” Ruth asked.
Shirley nodded. “Leon was my only advocate. He went to the police. But when they told him to ‘watch your step,’ Leon figured they were paid off.”
Harriet said, “Well, see, it turned out okay. It brought you to the right husband. God works in mysterious ways.”
“Stop it, Harriet,” Lillian said, and covered her mouth with her hand, distressed at her lack of manners, but also proud of speaking up for her friend.
Even the other women seemed shocked by her callousness. Except for Ruth, who scowled.
Shirley glanced at Harriet and raised an eyebrow, then addressed the rest of them. “Leon promised I was safe, and I don’t know why, but I believed him. I had to. No one had ever taken my side before. Not like that.”
Lillian, unsteady all of a sudden, propped herself against a chair. Had her own mother had anyone to go to? Anyone at all on her side? She must have felt so lonely, so hopeless. And, once she had been sent away, she didn’t even have her daughter for love or comfort. Lillian couldn’t change the past, but she could, and would, change the future—for Carrie, hopefully, and for her daughters, who should know about these things too.
“So what happened to the fiancé?” Irene asked.
“I don’t know,” Shirley said. “I never saw him again. Thank God.”
“Oh wow.” Irene leaned in as if getting closer would provide answers. “Do you think Leon had him knocked off?”
The unexpectedness of the question, and its sincerity, made them smile.
Shirley chuckled. “I think he ran away. They found his car abandoned in Fairmount Park.”
Lillian whispered, “This can happen anywhere, to anyone.”
“I have to admire your courage in telling us about it,” Ruth said, putting an arm around her mother-in-law’s shoulder. Shirley leaned into her daughter-in-law for a second, and then sat up straight again.