"Why isn't she in her own bed?"
"She's frightened with her grandmother in the hospital and you getting drunk and having drunken drug addict friends here messing up the house, which she has seen only respected and kept neat and clean."
"Is that the truth?"
"Look in the mirror," I replied. I was
frightened, too, perhaps as frightened as Echo was, but Brenda always taught me never to show fear. Fear slows you down, weakens you, she said. The opponent gets stronger. Swallow it back, cover it up, hate it.
"You'd better be out of this room tomorrow or else," she threatened. "And don't go running to my mother for help. either. You make her sicker with your lies and stories, and I'll have you arrested. She might really have a stroke then." she added. "'You'll be responsible."
She stepped closer and more into the
illumination. I could see her cold, calculating smile, her teeth like a mouth of ice. She was right, of course. I wouldn't tell Mrs. Westington about any of this or she would insist on coming right home. For now. I was trapped. We were trapped. I said nothing. She took a drink of her water, turned and walked out, leaving the bedroom door opened.
I waited until I heard her go into the guest room and then I rose to close my door. I didn't feel safe with it open. but I knew it didn't provide much security even when it was closed. Rhona could return. She could bring Skeeter with her. Things could get very nasty and Echo wouldn't understand. If only we had enrolled her in her school before Rhona had returned. I thought. I would have been gone by then as well and none of this ugliness would have mattered to me. I would flee my disappointment with Tyler as well, leave it behind like some piece of rotten fruit, just another bad experience to forget. I had an arm's length list of them. What difference did one more make?
Thinking like a runaway as usual, aren't you. April? Thinking like a coward? I asked myself. When are you going to stand pat and battle the demons, face the challengees? Or are you always going to be in flight, hiding in shadows, hovering in some dark corner, shivering like some terrified bunny whenever there is any sort of conflict or disappointment in your life?
I didn't have an answer for myself.
I didn't close my eyes much before morning either. I listened and stared at the door, challenged by the urge to get up and run out of it, down the stairs, and away at the moment I heard Skeeter or Rhona in the hallway.
Echo moaned in her sleep, but it wasn't a moan of fear. It was more like a baby's moan. She had Mr. Panda clutched in her arms and she looked years younger than she really was. I touched my teddy bear, a father's gift that now gave comfort to
us both. My trembling stopped. My heartbeat slowed and my body softened and relaxed just like hers had. We were like two children who had wrapped the promise of protection around ourselves and found the security to open ourselves to sleep.
Trevor was there first thing in the morning to be sure we were all right. Echo had a hard time waking up. I rose, dressed, and went down to make us some breakfast before she had even opened her eyes. There were no sounds coming from the guest bedroom. I was sure Skeeter and Rhona were in their morning comas as usual and I was glad for that. Trevor took one look at Echo's sleepy face when she came down and asked about the evening.
"She was just overwhelmed by everthing," I told him. "Nothing more happened. I had her sleep with me."
Just then Mrs. Westington's cleaning lady. Lourdes. arrived. She walked in as usual, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the mess in the living room.
"Let me speak to her." Trevor said, and went over to her. He spoke some Spanish and told her Mrs. Westington was in the hospital, her daughter was here with her boyfriend, and they had some messy friends over the night before. She went right to work and he returned to speak with me.
"I was thinking that for now it be best we don't tell Mrs. Westington about any of this," Trevor said. I nodded. "We'll deal with it."
"I'm taking Echo over to the hospital right after breakfast. We'll stay there as long as we can so that we'll be there whenever Rhona shows up." I explained. I had been thinking about it. "That way. I might be able to make sure she doesn't irritate her too much."
"Fat chance," Trevor said. "She just has to appear and it's an irritation, but it's a good idea. I have some things to look after here and then I'll pop over. Too"
Feeling more optimistic because we had a strategy. I was able to get Echo into a better mood. too. Trevor returned to the winery and Echo and I ate our breakfast. I was surprised, however. when Skeeter appeared without Rhona. He wore only a pair of jeans, no shoes and no shirt.
"Smelled the coffee." he said, and poured himself a cup. He sat back at the table and smiled at Echo. Anyone could see she was afraid of smiling too enthusiastically back, but she was sweet and innocent and in desperate need of love and affection, like a puppy that had been lifted away from its mother and siblings and dropped in some strange new place. "Cute kid," Skeeter told me. "Shame about her hearing. Rhona never mentioned it. She just told me she had a kid back here so it came as a surprise to me."
"What kind of woman would be like that, forget to mention her daughter was deaf?" I asked.
Skeeter shrugged, a slight smile on his face. Men like him were very difficult to understand. I wasn't all that experienced when it came to men or even women for that matter, but while traveling with Uncle Palaver. I had met men that reminded me of Skeeter, men who worked the odd jobs at the theaters and other places, who hung on to the small incomes to survive, but perhaps more to justify why they weren't doing anything substantial with their lives. Why worn, about it now? They could basically pay their rent, have what they wanted to eat and wear, and work out some entertainment for themselves. They lived on some shelf of mere existence as if they really believed they would live forever and sometime in the future, they would do something significant. Years could go by and they could miss opportunities after
opportunities, but they were carefree and nonchalant about it. Sometimes. I wondered if they weren't right and the rest of us, intense, determined, focused, were somehow missing out on something important.
"Rhona's been through a lot more than you can imagine," Skeeter said. "When I met her, she was close to cashing in. She had been betrayed, abused, and neglected by almost everyone she had trusted. She wasn't going to come back here, you know. She told me about her mother, this place. and I talked her into it. Don't make it difficult, any more difficult than it has to be for her.
"Besides," he said, leaning forward to rip a piece of bread and just smear it across the butter as if were dipping it in gravy, "you should really move on and get on with your own life. You can't just stop somewhere and become part of someone else's family."
"You're doing it," I retorted quickly.
"Well,I'm with Rhona. We'll probably get married, maybe have another kid. The old lady isn't going to last much longer. You know," he continued after chewing and swallowing the bread. "homes, farms, land, stores, whatever, are not much different from seats in a movie. You're there for your time and then you get up and leave and someone else is there."