Becoming Ellen Read online

Temerity came out, wearing jeans and a bright orange sweater. “Ellen? Is that you?” she called out. When Ellen answered, she said, “Are you ready? We have to leave in about ten minutes.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to go,” Ellen said as Temerity joined her.

  “You know”—Temerity crossed her arms and assumed a familiar tone—“sometimes, even though we know we can do everything by ourselves, that doesn’t mean we should.”

  “All right! I get it,” Ellen said, and stomped back upstairs. It was so like Temerity to use an argument back on her that Ellen had endorsed. It was cheating, of course, but what could she do?

  They waved good-bye to Thelma, who put a finger to her lips, and pulled the wad of fake money from Seth’s limp hand as he slept against the pillows.

  “Thank you so much,” Justice whispered, shushing his sister, who was filling her lungs to call out a good-bye. “We’ll be back before six. This one has to go to work and support us.” He pointed at Temerity.

  “Oh yeah, right,” Temerity said under her breath. “The arts are so lucrative, I’m just raking it in.”

  “Classical musicians are such mercenaries. It’s all about the cash,” Justice agreed, earning himself a thump in the ribs from his sister. “Oof.”

  Amanda laughed and said in a low voice to Thelma, “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I could.”

  But Justice took her arm. “No, you are going to meet my parents. It’s been nine months, and they understand residents’ long hours, but they’re beginning to think I’ve made you up.”

  “Oh . . . okay,” Amanda said, sounding very nervous.

  This floored Ellen. Amanda, nervous to meet her boyfriend’s parents? Who would not like the brilliant, beautiful, funny doctor as a girlfriend for their son? Amanda was like the bonus jackpot. It stunned Ellen to realize that even someone seemingly perfect could be afraid of an introduction.

  Amanda said, “Well, if you’re sure. Call my cell if you need anything, Thelma.”

  Thelma dismissed them with a casual wave. “Go!” she said. “Beth’s already on call and I’m really glad to do this. Beth is always the one who gets to be all useful, it’s nice to have a turn.” She smiled at them, and then turned a concerned face back to Seth.

  Ellen trailed down the stairs behind the other three, thinking about that word. Useful.

  It was, she knew, important.

  24

  We need to make a quick stop,” Temerity said brightly once they had exited the garage.

  “Did you forget something?” Justice asked.

  “Not at all. We just need to cruise by and see Lydia. If they’re not home, we won’t stay.”

  The car braked slightly and Justice turned to look at his sister with a creased brow. Amanda, who was sitting in the backseat with Ellen, asked, “And this would be the same Lydia who . . . ?”

  “Oh,” Temerity said. “She’s the little girl that was in the bus accident with Ellen. We found out where she’s staying and stopped by one other time. It’s a nice place, and everything seemed good, but then Ellen saw her again, at the facility where her mom is, and promised to check on her.”

  The frown deepened as Justice said, “And do these people who are taking care of her know you are coming?”

  “Well, we haven’t officially met them, seeing how we had to Sherlock Holmes the address. But they didn’t know the last time we went by either, and that worked out fine.”

  Justice rolled his eyes. “Stalkers!” he enunciated very clearly. “You guys cannot do this. Detective Barclay told you she’d been placed in a really good home, can’t you be happy with that?”

  “I could,” said Temerity, screwing her mouth sideways like she was thinking really hard, “if that were the end of it. But see, we told her mom that we’d check up on her and let her know how she’s doing.”

  There was a quick swerve that pressed Ellen against the leather interior of the car as Justice pulled over and put the car in park. He spun in his seat and looked at Ellen. “Explain, please.”

  Knowing there was nothing else for it, Ellen began. “We found her mom, Maddy. She’s in a state facility, in a coma.” Ellen left out the fact that they had used Amanda’s computer to find her originally. “I went to check on her, see how she’s doing, and I saw Lydia. I promised her I’d visit her.”

  Justice twisted so that he could look directly at her. “And did you speak to anyone else while you were there? Say, anyone with any authority?”

  Even the word made her uneasy. Authority. Ellen looked down and shook her head.

  “Great.” Justice addressed his sister. “That’s why you were asking the detective so many questions, isn’t it? You guys are getting involved again.”

  “Well!” Temerity exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I mean, how could we not? You understand that if Maddy lingers in that state, without someone to help her, Lydia will just be shuffled through the foster system. She won’t be allowed to stay with one family, no matter how good it is for her.”

  Amanda was looking from one of them to the other. “I don’t understand,” she said. “You want to go and spy on this little girl?”

  “Your girlfriend is exceptionally bright!” Temerity said to her brother. “Too bad about you.”

  Justice growled, but Ellen could tell that he was considering it. “What is it you think you can do for her?”

  “Don’t know yet,” Temerity sang. “We’re winging it.”

  A groan came from the long-suffering Justice. “Oh my God, you two will be the death of me, or at least the reason for my incarceration. I know you were able to help find a new home for the baby that your coworker Irena was saddled with by that criminal who tried to rob Costco. But Ellen, Irena was a work associate, and be honest, it was dumb luck that you knew someone who was looking to adopt and could put them together. It doesn’t mean you should open an agency!” He sighed, but Ellen knew that that success, dumb or not, was influencing him. “All right, but just a drive-by! Okay?”

  Temerity gave him the address, and Ellen was amazed that the trip that had taken over an hour on the bus was reduced to twenty minutes in the sleek BMW. They drove slowly around the cul-de-sac where the Rushes’ house sat, but could see nothing from the street.

  “Can you let me off, up here, just for a minute?” Ellen asked.

  With a grunt of resigned frustration, Justice pulled over just past the driveway, where the house was blocked from the road by the trees. Ellen climbed out and made her way into the pines, heading for the vantage point where she could see into the windows and the backyard. She stopped suddenly when she heard a woman’s voice: “Lydia!”

  Ellen dropped into a crouch behind a bush.

  Through the backyard fence, Ellen could see Lydia on the swing set. She was swinging for all her tiny frame was worth. At the top of the arc, the girl looked over at the porch, at the back door of which stood Mrs. Rush, who called out, “Lunch in five minutes, okay? Don’t forget to wash your hands.”

  “I’m coming,” Lydia answered, but she only increased the angle of her body as she rose high in the air, pumping with all her might, watching the sky rush down at her with every upswing. The door to the porch closed.

  Reaching into her pocket and pulling out the paper she’d prepared, Ellen crept forward, across the thin strip of open lawn, until she was up against the fence.

  “Lydia,” she whispered. “Lydia, it’s me, Ellen.”

  There was a muted scraping sound as Lydia put her feet down and dragged herself to a stop. She got off the swing and started toward the fence.

  “Don’t come over,” Ellen said quietly. “I’m going to leave you a note. You can get it later, okay? It’s got my phone number on it, so if you need to call me, you can.” Ellen didn’t have her own phone, so she gave the number at the loft. “Everything okay?”

  Lydia
, eyes sparkling from the mystery, came a little closer and whispered, this time loudly, “Everything okay.” Then she glanced up to the house and pretended to be interested in something in the grass. Stooping down, she said, “Mommy woke up. We’re going to see her on Monday. Are you coming back?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know when. I’m not supposed to know you’re here.”

  Lydia looked a little disappointed, but she nodded and then scrunched up one side of her face, forcing one eye closed, in what Ellen assumed was her attempt at a wink.

  “Gotta go. See you later,” Ellen said, and she bolted back for the trees.

  When she got into the car, Temerity asked, “All good?”

  “Yes,” Ellen told her. “She seems really happy there.” They drove on, Ellen staring out the window at the fancy houses and the open spaces. After Justice’s reservations, she would tell Temerity in private about Maddy waking up so that they could decide what to do, and then tell him. It would be different to grow up here, away from the grays and browns of the inner city. So much green, Ellen thought as the trees slid by.

  After another fifteen minutes, the BMW turned onto a long driveway that curved between trees until it ended gracefully in front of the most beautiful house Ellen had ever seen in magazines or on TV. This one was mostly wood with tall, narrow windows of smoky glass that reflected the dense trees around it. It looked like it had grown there instead of being built. They came to a stop, and Justice turned off the car.

  Ellen didn’t want to get out. Then she felt someone take her hand and squeeze. Startled, she looked over.

  It was Amanda. She was grasping Ellen’s hand and looking at her with a kind of desperation. “Come with me,” she whispered as the twins climbed out.

  Amanda had done so much for her that Ellen didn’t see how she could refuse. In a kind of stupor, she climbed out of the car and reluctantly trailed the others toward the house. Then the front door opened, and Ellen came to an abrupt stop.

  Standing in the doorway were two people. The woman was an older, very beautiful version of Temerity, and the man had no face.

  That he had been badly burned, Ellen knew at a glance. His skin was rough, tight and pulled; his nose was little more than two slits; there were next to no lips, only a crooked suggestion; but the most shocking thing was the huge, unguarded, toothy smile.

  “Welcome!” the man said. “Come on in. Your mom’s been cooking all morning.” He reached out a hand—also scarred and missing two fingers, Ellen could see—to Amanda, who took it and smiled back at him, as he said, “I’m Andy, and you must be Amanda. It is so great to finally meet you.”

  Amanda, who must have been prepared, didn’t register any surprise at the ruined face. She said smoothly, “I’m so sorry, I’ve been so busy. Final year of residency, you know the drill! Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Of course, of course,” chimed in the woman. “I’m Dory. Glad to finally meet you!”

  Hugs were exchanged between the family, with one for Amanda, too, and then a pause while everyone turned to Ellen, still several feet back.

  No one said anything, and then Andy spoke. “Well, we should all go in. If you’d like to join us, Ellen, we’ll be in the den. It’s straight through. If not, feel free to make yourself comfortable on the porch, or take a walk, whatever you like.” The big smile came again, and then Andy stepped aside to allow everyone else to go in. “So, Amanda, are you planning on specializing?”

  Ellen didn’t hear the answer because her head was ringing inside. Distantly, she recalled something that Temerity had said to her not long after they met, when Ellen confessed that she was sorry that Justice had had to see her face. Temerity had said, “Justice wouldn’t care.”

  It wasn’t the burn damage that had startled Ellen. It wasn’t the shock of the grotesque that had frozen her, she’d looked at her own for too long. It was the fact that Andy’s affliction, as extreme as it was, didn’t define him.

  The porch was a big one, screened in, and there was a porch swing, laden with pillows. Ellen stumbled to it and rocked herself calm. Swinging not for the joy of it like Lydia, but for the soothing motion. After ten minutes or so, she felt strong enough to get up again, and drawn to go farther.

  Tentatively, Ellen pushed open the door and went in. She went through a large, beautifully decorated, but cozy living room, and stared in wonder as she passed into the kitchen/den.

  The entire back of the house was glass. Outside, there was a small lake surrounded by trees, dense and lush, as far as she could see. It was as if the kitchen were part of the forest. The peace of the view landed on Ellen’s heart like a sparrow to its nest, and for the first time in her life, Ellen allowed herself to wish for something she knew she’d never have.

  Justice was sitting next to Amanda, who looked radiant, already at ease. Ellen side-slipped to an armchair next to where Temerity was sitting and curled back into it.

  “You want anything to drink?” Temerity asked her from the side of her mouth.

  “No, thanks,” Ellen said.

  Dory gave Ellen a simple smile but didn’t stop telling the story she had begun. “So, this lady sniffs, she actually sniffs, and says to me, ‘I was looking at that jacket yesterday.’ Like I had stolen it off her back. I told her, ‘And now I’m buying it.’ I mean, really! Did she think they should keep it there in case she happened to change her mind? If someone else hadn’t wanted it, she wouldn’t have, either. Classic coveting behavior.”

  “You should have given her a card,” Andy joked. “Sounds like she could use a good therapist.”

  Dory leaned into her husband’s shoulder and nestled her head against his cheek. “No way. That jacket was a gift for our anniversary and I didn’t want her to know where to come looking for it!” She turned her head and kissed him, smiling into his eyes.

  The conversation continued around the table, with plenty of laughter. Ellen found herself included in the smiles and occasional eye contact but was never called on to participate. They were good to their word. When Justice did an imitation of a priggish work associate discovering a caterpillar in his salad by leaping up and emitting a high-pitched squeal, she actually laughed out loud.

  They had lunch at a table in front of those huge windows. It was when Ellen’s plate was loaded up with roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and homemade bread with honeyed butter, and Temerity was explaining about Seth that Ellen surprised herself by speaking. She didn’t mean to, it just happened. She found herself drawn out by the insights of Dory and Andy about the effects of what Seth had most likely been through.

  “But,” Ellen asked, after Andy advanced a theory that abused children sometimes become violent parents themselves, “it makes a difference how they deal with it at the time, right? I mean, Seth ran away from it.”

  “True,” Andy agreed. “But people will still be controlled by the fear and anger that builds up in them if they don’t understand it. Most abused kids go on to abuse their own children. It’s a cycle.”

  Ellen asked, “What if you, say, had a bad childhood, but you just decide not to think about it anymore, because . . . uh, it’s too hard?”

  Dory responded to this. “Well, too often the bad feelings fester, they don’t just magically go away. All of us are products of our emotional and environmental past, and when something triggers those emotions, they flare up.”

  “Don’t we have a choice?” Ellen asked, surprising herself again.

  “Well, that depends,” Dory responded, pursing her mouth, “on whether or not we choose consciously.”

  Ellen didn’t want to hear that. She said, “Let’s say a kid is bullied, and all they want is to be left alone. Why can’t they just go be alone?”

  “The problem with bullying,” Dory said, “is that most often it leaves a person feeling powerless. And being alone won’t alleviate that.”

  Ellen felt a
surge of energy, as though she needed to make them understand this. “That would be because, most often,” she said, more forcibly than she intended, “they are powerless.”

  Andy wiped his gash of a mouth with a napkin and said, “To answer your question about choosing how to react, there is a way to take control, but it takes work. It involves reaching back and examining those unconscious emotional minefields so that we know the effect they have on us. Eventually, we can lessen the effect, until, even when those bombs are triggered, we understand the onslaught of panic, or sadness, or whatever feelings come up, for what they are—shadows. The more we understand they aren’t real now, the less we are controlled. That’s how we can choose.”

  Ellen stared at her plate, her need to stay unknown wrestling with her need to understand. Then very quietly, she said, “Once, when I was moved to a new school, two older girls held me down while another one wrote on my face with a marker.” No one responded, there was no outcry or expression of pity, just polite attention. “They wrote ‘freak,’ and they drew arrows pointing to my scars. That wasn’t a shadow, it was a Sharpie. It took a week to wear off. Every day I would leave for school, go into the gym, and spend the day in the basement. That was the only way I could ‘control’ it. I made that choice.”

  Andy nodded. He seemed interested, but not to the point of being intrusive. “When you think of that incident now, how does it make you feel?” he asked.

  Ellen shrugged. “I don’t think of it.”

  “But you just remembered it now, so how do you feel?”

  Ellen gave the question some consideration. Underneath the embarrassment of speaking up in a group of people, she did feel something else, but she couldn’t identify it. A sharp spike of annoyance at these confident, happy people surged through her, threatening to make her lash out. But even as the anger pierced her, Ellen’s gaze landed on Temerity’s father, watching her with his kind, respectful eyes from his ravaged face, and she knew that he was not responsible for the way she felt, for her . . . “Anger,” she said. “If I let myself—and I don’t—I guess I would feel angry.”