Part 15 (2/2)
”There's not a circ.u.mstance sorry enough on this earth to make someone become a prost.i.tute,” she said with a scornful air. ”A girl goes that way because she's a bad apple to start with. And now you've sullied the Gordon name by bringing her into this house! A minister's home! Of all places.”
She narrowed her eyes and began her final attack. ”Louisa, you are the very soul of aggravation! I have put up with a dog, and I have put up with notes stuck all over this house, and I have put up with a permanent houseguest, but this is the last straw. Either that girl goes or I go. Today!” Her nostrils flared in outrage.
I took a deep breath. Lord, give me patience! ”I'm sorry. I'll make other arrangements for Glenda. Today.” I slipped out the backdoor.
Robert followed behind me, carrying my coffee cup. ”Wait, Louisa! Where are you going?”
”Just to take a walk. Please leave me be.” I kept walking.
”I really wouldn't do that if I were you,” he called out with authority.
I stopped and turned slightly. ”And why not?” I snapped, not interested in hearing another Gordon opinion.
”Because you're wearing your bathrobe. And you're barefoot.”
I slumped my shoulders and turned back to go to the house.
”Come sit down on the steps with me for a minute.”
He handed me the coffee cup as I sat down next to him. The contrast of its warmth felt soothing in my hands as the crisp morning air surrounded us.
”You didn't do anything wrong, Louisa. Just the opposite. You saw a woman trying to better herself, and you've tried to help her.”
”I never dreamed she would come here in the night, Robert.”
”She must trust you. She probably doesn't have anyone else she can count on.”
”I'm sorry about your aunt.” I rolled my eyes.
”Well, we could have guessed her reaction.”
”That's why I never mentioned Glenda! I knew she would chew my head off.”
”Bite your head off,” he corrected, trying to hold back a grin. ”And she sure did.”
I frowned at him. That's exactly why I didn't adopt American expressions. I always got them wrong. ”Glenda is going to need someone to take care of her for a while. Someone treated her terribly.”
”Mick,” he guessed, frowning. Mick Hills ran the Tavern where Glenda worked. ”He's got a reputation for a fiery temper.”
I looked into my coffee cup and said, more to myself than to Robert, ”What am I going to do with her?”
”We'll figure something out,” he said. He jumped up and looked down at me. ”You know, I just might have an idea. When Glenda wakes up, have her try to eat something, and clean her up as best as you can. Loan her some fresh clothes. I might have just a place for her.”
”Why? What are you thinking?”
He wouldn't answer. He took my coffee cup and finished off the last few sips, handed it back to me, smiled, told me not to worry, jumped into the Hudson and backed out of the driveway.
After watching him drive down the street, I slowly turned to go back to the kitchen, steeling myself for another encounter with Miss Gordon.
She was so disgusted with having a girl like Glenda in the house that she woke William up and took him on errands, just so he wouldn't be ”further corrupted by Glenda's influence.” Amazingly, she even took Dog with her, to keep Dog uncorrupted, as well, I suppose.
I did exactly as Robert asked and helped get Glenda dressed in one of my skirts and blouses. Her eyes looked so beaten down. She did everything I asked, just like a little child.
An hour or so later, Robert pulled into the driveway. He popped into the kitchen and asked if Glenda was ready to go. ”You'd better come, too, Louisa.” We put Glenda in the backseat. As we drove down the street, we pa.s.sed Herr Mueller standing in front of his bank. He stopped and stared at us as we drove past him. His stare made me shudder. Robert would say I was just being paranoid, but Herr Mueller always seemed to be watching me.
”Glenda, we're taking you to a woman named Betty Drummond. She lives alone on a little farm, way out of town. Her grandmother died recently, and Betty's been lonesome. She's good at nursing, too. Nursed her grandmother for years. I went to talk to her this morning, and she agreed to take care of you, at least until you're back on your feet. Does that sound fine to you?”
Glenda nodded. ”But I ain't ever goin' back to Mick's. I'm done.”
”I'm glad to hear you say that,” Robert said. ”We'll help you figure out what to do when you're mended.”
When we reached Betty's home, she had already made up the guestroom for Glenda and put flowers from the garden by the bedside. ”n.o.body's done such nice things for me before. I thank you,” she said, climbing into bed.
”You're safe now, Glenda. No one can hurt you out here,” Robert said. ”If you don't mind, I'd like to say a prayer before we go.”
Glenda looked away. I put a hand on her shoulder as Robert bowed his head, not waiting for her answer. ”Lord, please heal Glenda's body and her spirit. We ask you to bless Betty, too, for being so gracious as to take care of Glenda. We know you love Glenda, Lord, for you brought friends to her to take care of her. We pray for your protection over her, and for justice to be delivered to the person who harmed her. Amen.” Then he added, ”Glenda, Louisa and I will come out now and then to check on you.”
One little teardrop escaped and rolled down her cheek before she wiped it away.
Downstairs, I handed Betty a bag. ”I brought some books for Glenda. She's just learning to read. She's smart, too. She's already on first grade readers. I thought you might be able to help her, if you have a free minute.”
From the look on Betty's face, I wasn't sure who was going to benefit more-Glenda from Betty's care or Betty, from having someone to fuss over.
On the car ride home I looked over at Robert and smiled at him. ”Nice work, Reverend.”
He glanced back at me with a shy grin. ”Well, Betty could use a little extra cash right now. The church has a budget to pay for emergencies like this.”
I knew the church didn't have any such emergency fund. I knew Robert would be paying Betty out of his own modest salary.
After dinner that evening, Mick Hills came to our door. Miss Gordon opened it and nearly suffered heart failure. She sent Mick over to Robert's office. Back she marched into the kitchen, grumbling loudly with a resentful toss of her head in my direction, ”twice in one day. I start the day with a prost.i.tute and end the day with a panderer. That's a fine kettle of fish.”
I darted out of the kitchen, hoping to avoid hearing another diatribe about how I had further sullied the fine Gordon name.
A while later, I heard Robert come in through the kitchen door. I ran downstairs to meet him. ”What did he want? Why did he come to see you?”
”Where's Aunt Martha?” he asked, glancing around for her.
”She went up to bed with a headache.”
Robert sat down at the kitchen table and pulled a seat out for me. ”He said Glenda has talked about you at the tavern. He took a guess that she came here.”
”He doesn't know where she is now, though, does he?”
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