Brandy drew a deep, unsteady breath. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Remember the talk you and I had last week?” Cecilia asked, brushing a hand over the girl’s hair again. “When I told you about that very nice counselor at the clinic? Her specialty is talking to girls and women who have been involved with abusive men. She can help you understand why Marlin thought he could treat you that way and help you see why you deserve so much better. You’re hurting inside, sweetie, and she can help you. Will you let me make an appointment for you?”
“I don’t know. I’d feel funny talking to some stranger.”
“I know the counselor Cecilia’s talking about, Brandy. She’s very nice. I would talk to her in a New York minute if I had a problem I needed help solving.”
Brandy looked at Geoff then, first with skepticism and then with slow consideration. “You would? Really?”
“Really.” It occurred to him that she was accepting his input because he was a confident-sounding male. Because she still lacked the confidence to trust her own judgment. Perhaps counseling could give her the self-assurance she needed to prevent her from falling back under Marlin’s control—or that of some other abusive man in the future.
“Why don’t you go back in the house and wait for your grandparents to come home,” Cecilia suggested. “Lock your doors, and if Marlin comes back, don’t let him in. No matter what he says, Brandy. Because he isn’t sorry and he doesn’t love you. Not if he’s so willing to hurt you.”
Shoulders slumped, Brandy twisted her hands in front of her. “He won’t be back tonight. He’s too mad, and he wants me to be miserable without him for a night or two. It’s what he always does.”
“Good. Instead of being miserable, you can enjoy your new freedom. Call Lizzie and go buy a new outfit without worrying about whether Marlin will like it. Smile again, Brandy. You’re only seventeen. Enjoy it.”
“Let me walk you to your door.” Geoff crooked his arm and gave Brandy a smile.
She looked at his arm, at his face and back at his arm again. And then, very tentatively, she laid her fingertips on his forearm.
He bade her good-night at the door, advised her again to talk to the counselor, then waited until he heard the door lock behind her before he turned back to Cecilia.
He had quite a few things to say to her, but not here. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes.”
Only then did he notice that she was dressed for dinner in a sleek black-and-white summer pantsuit. “You look very nice.”
She smoothed her hands down the front of her outfit in a nervous gesture. “Thank you.”
Belted into his car and on the road to his grandmother’s house, Geoff wondered how to start yelling at Cecilia without sounding like Marlin. “You do realize that interfering in domestic-violence situations is extremely dangerous, don’t you?”
“I heard Marlin screaming at Brandy again, and I just couldn’t stay out of it. I went running over there without stopping to think about it.”
“And it almost got you punched by the little punk. You should have called the police.”
“He didn’t punch me,” she pointed out. “And if he had, he would have found himself in more trouble than he ever expected. As my brother would tell you, I’m not as delicate as I might appear. I was married for two years to a guy who thought being male gave him some sort of natural superiority. He kept pushing it a little further until I packed my bags and told him to go to hell.”
“I’m not questioning your spunk, Cecilia. You’ve proven enough times that you have plenty of that. But the fact is, you’re a small woman, and he had four inches and a good thirty pounds advantage over you. He could have hurt you.”
The thought of Marlin’s fist connecting with Cecilia’s face made Geoff’s hands white-knuckled around the steering wheel. “Damn it, Cecilia, you should have called the police. Putting yourself in that situation was—”
“Reckless?” she murmured. “Irresponsible?”
He started to retort, then bit back the words. Okay, he got the allusion. He had asserted that she had no right to judge or criticize his actions; he had no more right to yell at her for her decisions. It was just that…
“You scared me,” he admitted.
“Imagine that.”
He gave a deep sigh. “Okay. Point taken.”
Though she didn’t respond, a sideways glance let him see her rather smug smile.
After another moment he spoke again. “Brandy’s still got some major problems, you know. She’s still liable to take Marlin back when he comes around again, playing the victim and telling her how nobody else understands him.”
“I know,” Cecilia said with a sigh. “I’m not expecting miracles. I just want to try to get her some help.”