Bent Road - Lori Roy [56]
Arthur nods and hangs his head between his arms. “The best I can do is to keep track of Ray,” he says. “It’s the best I can do. For now.” He lifts his head and kneads his brow with the palm of his hand. “I’ll take care of her.”
Celia nods.
“I’ll take care of Ruth,” he says again, this time speaking more to himself than to Celia.
“Yes, Arthur, you will. I know you will.” Wishing she meant what she said, Celia brushes her hand against his cheek. He leans into her touch. “People were different today. Did you notice? In church, they were different.”
Arthur glances at her but doesn’t answer.
“They think Ray did it.” Celia pauses but no response. She looks back at the shed that seems larger now. “They really think he took Julianne, don’t they?”
Still no answer.
“Because of what happened to Eve. Because Julianne was so like her.”
“Small town. Nothing much else for folks to talk about.”
“But what if he did? What if . . .”
“Ray didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Eve.”
“How do you know that, Arthur? How do you really, really know for sure?” Celia touches his hand. “You’ve always said how much Evie resembles your sister. Like Julianne did. If people really think . . . we have to consider it. For Evie’s sake. My God, Arthur. You found Eve dead right here,” she says, pointing across the drive toward the shed. “Right outside your mother’s house. How can you be so sure? You promised Ruth, remember? You promised her you wouldn’t be too sure of yourself.”
Arthur nods and lays a hand over Celia’s. “We’ll go to Hays from now on. For mass, we’ll go to Hays.”
Celia needs to trust him. Now, more than any other time, she needs to trust Arthur. And maybe she could have until she saw the looks on people’s faces today. Most of them have probably known Ray all their lives. And all of them believe.
“I think it would be a nice drive for all of us,” Celia says, trying to swallow the lump that has formed in her throat. “It’s a lovely church.”
Arthur nods. “Hays’ll be fine.”
Evie listens for Daniel in the hallway outside Aunt Eve’s room. He is supposed to start a fire and that always takes him a good, long time. Grandma Reesa says the trees of Rooks County are plenty safe if the matches are in Daniel’s hands. Hearing nothing, she opens her small plastic tote and lays it on the bed. She blows the dust out of the corners and looks around the room. The Virgin Mary won’t fit inside the small case, and even if she did, Grandma Reesa would notice if Mary went missing. She is still mad at Daddy for gluing the hands back on, even though she said he could do it. Grandma says it’s shameful to use plain old glue on the Virgin Mary and to leave clumps of it stuck to her wrists. Evie walks to the table where the statue sits and touches the seam where Daddy glued her left hand onto her left wrist. She lifts Mary, tilts her back and forth, feels the weight of her before gently placing her back on the table.
Pausing to listen for footsteps again, but hearing nothing except the faraway clatter of Grandma Reesa’s pots and pans, she walks to the dresser next to the Virgin Mary’s table, opens the small, center drawer and peeks inside.
“Are these your pictures?” she says.
She giggles, feels that she’s done something naughty by talking to Aunt Eve like she’s right here in the same room. Glancing around, she muffles another giggle with one hand and, with the other, lifts out a small silver frame with a picture of Grandma Reesa when she wasn’t so big and a man, who must have been Grandpa. Evie holds the picture close to her face.
“He doesn’t look so nice. Was he a nice dad?”
No one answers. After propping the picture up on the cabinet, she takes out another.
“Just look at you,” she says, smiling down on a picture of Aunt Eve and Daddy. “Your hair is like mine. Look,” she says, holding up one of her own thin braids. “Just like mine.”
Evie sets the picture next to the first one and pulls the drawer open a little farther.
“Who is this?” she asks, and then nods. “It’s you, isn’t it? You seem so happy. Look at how you’re smiling.