“I had no choice. Carrie needed to know that she’s not alone.”
Carrie looked up from her lap and right into Shirley’s eyes. “You got safe,” she whispered. “You got out before you had children that could be harmed.”
Shirley turned and pointed to Ruth, Lillian, Harriet, and Irene. “I’ve told you this for Carrie’s sake. Each of you has to honor that by trusting me. And Carrie has to be able to trust all of us. I know what to do to help Carrie, but my solution relies on secrecy. You cannot tell anyone what happens here, ever.” She looked at each of the women in turn.
“I’ll do whatever you say,” Irene said, and crossed her heart.
“Of course.” Lillian nodded and wrapped her arms around her middle to keep the others from knowing how deeply Shirley’s story had affected her. How closely it paralleled Anna’s life.
“Me too. No question,” Ruth said. “Just tell us what to do.”
Of course Ruth was in. Lillian suddenly felt relief that she had a way to make amends for having let Ruth down, for having let Carrie down. Courage. That was part of being a well-bred woman too.
“You’re not going to hurt Eli, are you?” Carrie asked.
“His pride, probably, but no, he won’t be hurt physically—the way he hurt you.” Shirley spoke with determination and without any sympathy for the man.
“What if it was a onetime thing?” Harriet asked, as if still trying to find excuses for Eli.
Lillian shushed Harriet again.
Shirley frowned. Ruth wasn’t the only one losing patience with that girl. “You need to understand something, Harriet. The only way it’s a onetime thing is if somebody dies,” Shirley said.
Lillian shivered. Maybe her mother had been lucky. A terrible thought.
“I imagine this has been going on for quite some time,” Shirley said to Carrie.
Carrie nodded, though her head moved no more than an inch. She looked back at the floor.
Lillian covered her face with her hands. How long had this gone on with her parents before her father died? She remembered all the times her mother had sent her to her room, and she’d hear the fighting begin. Her father shouting, her mother pleading. How had she not remembered that until now? She squeezed her eyes shut. She mustn’t cry, not yet. As a child Lillian had never imagined what was going on. She could barely imagine it as an adult.
Ruth rested a hand on Lillian’s shaking shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure Carrie will be fine.”
Lillian knew Ruth thought she was shaken solely over Carrie’s situation. Lillian didn’t correct her.
“How can you be sure?” she asked, thinking of the many years her mother spent institutionalized.
“She has us to help her now,” Ruth said.
“She does,” Shirley said. “But there’s one more thing. We can only help Carrie if she wants to be helped.” She paused and directed her question at the exhausted woman opposite her. “Carrie, honey, you have to answer me honestly,” Shirley said. “Do you want us to help you get away from Eli?”
Carrie’s eyes widened. “Get away? Leave? I don’t want to leave.”
The women in the room showed confusion—maybe at the question, maybe at the answer.
Lillian didn’t understand either. Would Anna have been safer if she had taken Lillian and left before Percy died?
Shirley’s voice held a soothing tone. “We understand.”
Although clearly most of them, like Lillian, didn’t.
Shirley went on. “Of course you don’t want to. If we’re lucky, it can be temporary, but for now, we need to remove you and the baby from danger. It’s the only way,” Shirley said.
“Isn’t there some other way to make him stop?” Irene asked.
Only if somebody dies. Those words rang over and over in Lillian’s head. Somebody. Not necessarily the wife—is that what she’d meant? It couldn’t be.
Carrie looked at Shirley with pleading eyes. “There has to be. Isn’t there?”
“I wish I could tell you that there was.” Shirley sighed.
Carrie slumped back in the chair, wincing as her battered ribs hit the cushions. “I guess you’re right. I do need your help. For my baby.”
“Then you have to trust me and do what I say.” Shirley waved her hand around the room. “I mean all of you.” The roomful of women stared at Shirley, waiting for more.
“You cannot tell anyone—and I mean anyone—what we’re about to do,” Shirley said. She’d said it already, but Lillian was pretty sure that this was meant for the younger generation. Shirley knew she could trust her old friend.
“Not even Asher?” Ruth asked. “Your own son?”
This younger generation, Lillian thought. Could they really keep a secret? Straightforward women like Ruth would have a hard time justifying lying to their husbands—or anyone, really—yet someone’s life was at stake. Men like Eli—like her own father—probably didn’t stop unless they were forced to.
Shirley nodded at Ruth. “Even Asher. He’s a good man, but he is a man. And he plays golf with Eli, doesn’t he? So no. Not even him.” Then Shirley looked directly at each one of them. “You must all promise not to talk about what goes on here for the next few days. Call it a special project if you have to explain why you’re busy. And if you must lie—then yes, lie. This is a matter of life or death. Carrie is your friend. If you can’t keep a secret, please, in the name of all that is holy, leave now. But do not tell anyone what you know—or Carrie’s safety, and the safety of her baby, will be in jeopardy.”
“Don’t you think you’re blowing this out of proportion?” Harriet asked.
Had she learned nothing from this conversation?
“No, she’s not blowing it out of proportion,” Lillian said. “Carrie needs our empathy and understanding. That’s part of being a fine woman too.”
Harriet shrugged this off. She scooped her pocketbook handle onto her arm. “I can’t do this. I won’t say anything, but as for the rest, it’s not my business. And I won’t lie to Scotty. I won’t tell him unless he asks me, but—” She began to walk toward the front door, then turned back. “I’m sorry, Carrie. I’ll call you.” She closed the door behind her.
No one tried to stop her.
“Let her go. She isn’t helping anyway,” said Ruth, turning back to Carrie.
“Ruth’s right. Let her go,” Shirley said to the rest of them. “We need all the energy we can muster without Harriet’s objections, because this only gets harder.”
Lillian surveyed the others with a sense of pride. By allowing her to leave, they sent Harriet a message louder than any protest. Their friendship would not tolerate Harriet’s behavior.
Carrie rested her forehead on Shirley’s shoulder and said, “She’s fibbing. She wouldn’t tell Scotty.”
“How can you be sure?” Shirley asked, her brow wrinkled.
Ruth answered for Carrie. “She’d never let on there was an imperfect marriage in our midst.”
The five women squeezed chairs around a Formica kitchen table that was only sized for four. The sandwiches, salads, and desserts meant for the etiquette class crowded the kitchen counter, where they’d moved everything. The mingling aromas teased Lillian into a sensation that felt like nausea.