Elizabeth
didn’t tell her family about Benjamin.
She didn’t want to deal with the raised eyebrows, the disappointed
stares, the shocked faces. It was hard
enough for Elizabeth
to digest what Sandra had gotten her into, what Pastor Simon had told her. The last thing she needed on top of that
realization was her family. For this
reason, she took to locking herself in her room even more often than usual, if
that was possible. She ignored phone
calls, she stopped eating downstairs, she didn’t answer when her siblings
pounded on her door or yelled at her or tried to get her attention. Her father had attempted taking down her
door, but that had failed miserably. Elizabeth still hadn’t
emerged from her room and she ignored everyone as actively as before. She even took to avoiding Jacqueline. She didn’t want anyone to know what was going
on, not yet. Instead, she sat on her bed
and read her Bible and prayed and waited until Sandra would tell her when the
retreat would be.
One night, she flipped
absent-mindedly through her Rose notebook, only half reading the notes she had
made. The phone rang, but she ignored
it. Let
someone else get it, she thought and turned another page. Staring back at her was the Bible verse she
had copied down and highlighted so long ago that she had intended on asking
Sandra about:
I
returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the
battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of
understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to
them all.
--Ecclesiastes
9:11
She still didn’t get it, but instead
of pondering on it like she had done before, Elizabeth flipped to the next page and moved
on. She figured the meaning would come
to her eventually.
Someone stormed up the attic stairs
and Elizabeth
closed her eyes, willing whoever it was to go away and leave her alone. Instead, whoever it was pounded on her
currently unlocked bedroom door. And
kept pounding. And wouldn’t stop. She wasn’t sure why the intruder didn’t just
open the door and come in, but she guessed that this was another futile attempt
to annoy her into active conversation.
Mostly to disprove this theory, Elizabeth
let the pounding go on for a few minutes before she acknowledged it.
“Whaaat?” she finally sighed, just
loud enough for the intruder to hear her.
The door swung open and there stood
Evalynne, her face red with annoyance.
She barged in and went for Elizabeth ’s
phone, which was no longer there.
“Where the hell is your phone?” Evalynne growled, glaring daggers at her older
sister.
Evalynne blinked a few times and
shook her head as though she was trying to figure out if this was really
happening. “How about you overcome
weirdness?”
“What do you want?” Elizabeth
didn’t even raise her voice. She merely
continued talking in monotone.
“I can’t believe you donated your
phone!” Evalynne cried, and then she looked around at Elizabeth ’s walls. “Did you donate every single thing you own?”
“More or less.”
“There are no words.”
“You wanted something. What was it?”
This snapped Evalynne out of her
fascination with Elizabeth ’s
room and she returned to her glaring.
“The stupid phone’s for you.” She
turned and began leaving the room.
“Who is it?”
Evalynne stopped, turned slowly to
face her sister, who was still not looking up, and said in an icy voice. “What?”
“Who. Is.
On. The. Phone.”
“I’m not your secretary, Liz!”
Evalynne yelled. “You’ve been avoiding
phone calls from everyone, just get over whatever funk you’re in! It’s driving me crazy!”
Evalynne glared at the top of Elizabeth ’s head for a few
more seconds before growling, “Sandra.”
Finally, Elizabeth closed the notebook, got off the
bed, and walked down the stairs.
Evalynne chased after her.
“Oh, so you’ll talk to Sandra, but
you won’t talk to anyone else?” Evalynne argued.
“That’s not true,” Elizabeth said, still not making eye contact
with Evalynne as she walked down the second set of stairs to the ground floor.
“It is true. You barely talk to
anyone in this family any more—this is the most I’ve heard you speak in five
days.”
“That’s not true.”
“Your old crazy friends—you remember
Lena, Grace, and Ellen, right?—have all called over the last few days. Apparently for some reason they’re still
worried about you and want to be your friends, god knows why. And yet, you wouldn’t talk to any of them. Relatives have called. Every other person in this house has talked
to them except for you.”
“I talk to Jacquline. I talk to Sandra. I talk to Delia, Morgan, and Aimee. That’s not talking to no one,” Elizabeth pointed out as
she reached the phone.
“So you’ll talk to your creepy
church friends, but you won’t talk to us?”
Evalynne glared once more and
stomped away.
“Sandra?” Elizabeth said into the phone.
“Your retreat is on Saturday. I’ll pick you up at eight in the
morning. It’s an overnight thing, so be
prepared for that,” Sandra announced.
“Okay, I will.”
She heard Sandra sigh over the
phone. “Elizabeth , I know you’re a little mad at me,
but I’m really quite proud of you. It’s
an honor for you to be betrothed to a man of such rank in the church. If you do as he says, your way to Heaven will
pretty much be paved for you.”
“I’m not mad at you,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’m just…nervous. I didn’t expect to be doing this at, you
know, seventeen.”
“Yeah, it’s not conventional in the
outside world, but it’s really not that unusual for female Roses to be married
off when they’re young. This will be
good for you. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be at the ceremony…I’ll be your
witness.”
“Sure, something like that.” There was a pause. “So we’re okay? You’re
okay?”
“We’re okay.” Elizabeth
looked over toward Evalynne, who noticed Elizabeth
looking at her and rolled her eyes in response.
“I’m fine. Promise.”
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