“Mrs. Fennel told me things yesterday,” I said spitefully. “Without my asking.”
“Oh? What things?”
“Things about herself, mostly.”
“Oh,” she said, as if that wasn’t anything.
“And about your mother.”
Her eyebrows nearly jumped over her forehead. “What did she say?”
“Only what you know, Ava. Her dying wasn’t her fault. Daddy knew what would happen to her. Now I know the truth as well.”
“Good for you,” she said. “Now you know.”
“She told me she was Daddy’s older sister.”
“Did she?”
“You knew that. You told Marla. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Didn’t I?”
“You know you didn’t, Ava.”
She shrugged. “What difference does it make?” She started to turn away to leave, paused, and turned back. “You know why you’re learning more things now, don’t you?”
I didn’t want to say it, but I knew, deep down I knew, but was still trying to keep it buried.
“It’s coming soon, Lorelei. Your time is coming soon. This is what happened when my time was coming, too. You’ll be graduated, licensed, turned loose to be Daddy’s most cherished daughter, just like I was. Only,” she added, “I think I was more ready when my time came than you are.” She shrugged. “But Daddy knows best,” she said, and left.
Every religion, practically every culture, had rituals to mark the maturity of a young person, the entrance to adulthood and more responsibility. Parents and other adults would look differently at them, look at them with more respect, and expect more from them. While a young girl or boy might be nervous about it, she or he certainly didn’t fear it. Ava made my coming of age sound more like a threat. There would be no party, no celebration of any kind. We’d have no cake, no friends to share in the special moment.
One morning, I’d wake up and discover Ava was gone. The great weight of responsibility for Daddy’s life would be on my shoulders. I’d be the one thrust out there in the darkness. I’d be the one who would work her sexiness and charm like some deep-sea fisherman working his line and reel. I’d cast myself into the waters and land some great catch, some unsuspecting young man lusting after the hook, completely unaware of how sharp and deadly was its point.
Instead of feeling that she was being rushed along because I was being rushed along, I wished Ava would be more sensitive to my feelings and fears. I wished she would really be my older sister and spend time with me, talking to me, reassuring me, convincing me I was ready. Wasn’t that what Daddy would want her to be doing? Should I complain to him? Would that do any good?
There was no talk of any of this at dinner. Marla went on with a nonstop description of her school day and how boring the kids in her class were. I knew she was doing the same thing I had been doing before now. She was trying to justify not having anything to do with any of her classmates or participating in any of their events by denigrating them, making them sound like complete undesirables. Maybe it made her feel better for a little while, just as it had made me feel better, but that wouldn’t last. I wanted to tell her, but I knew that would bring down thunder and lightning, especially from Ava.
After dinner, I watched some television with Marla, both of us putting off doing any more schoolwork. Ava had shut herself off in her room. I had no idea what she was doing, what she was feeling after what had happened to her last night. She had no best friend to talk to on the phone, and even if she had one, she certainly couldn’t have talked to her about any of this. There was only me now. Why didn’t she see that? Why was she so hard? I certainly would go to her, even now, even after the nasty things she had said.
We were different in many ways, and not all of them made her better than me or more equipped for whatever futures awaited us. She wasn’t anywhere near as good a reader as I was, nor was she as interested in reading or art and music. I never heard her talk about a movie she had seen or a television show. Despite the act she put on for me, for everyone, I thought, Ava was the loneliest person I knew.
Was that what awaited me, loneliness? If ever I had wanted to talk with Daddy, to hear him say comforting, wonderful things, it was tonight. Every once in a while, I looked out toward the stairway, expecting him to come down, but he hadn’t by the time I decided to go to my room to finish up what work I had left. Marla lingered behind me for a while. I heard her go to her room. All three of us had our doors shut, each of us locked away as if we enjoyed solitude. I knew I didn’t.
Although I wasn’t tired enough to sleep, I went to bed and just lay there staring up at the ceiling, listening for any creak in the floor above, any sign that Daddy had awakened. The house was so quiet. I was reminded of so many nights like this when I was much younger. Marla wasn’t here yet, and Brianna was still with us. Neither she nor Ava would spend many nights doing anything with me. Now that I thought about it, I had never realized how lonely I already was back then, how much I depended on Daddy to come by or ask me to do something with him. No wonder he had become my whole life. Our talks, the gifts he gave me, the clothing and jewelry, the books he told me to read, all of it made up the foundation of what I had in the way of family events and pleasure. Later, when I attended school and saw and heard how much other girls my age were doing and enjoying, I did feel my isolation more, but Daddy seemed always to be there to help keep me from sinking too low.
Could he help me now, now that I was older and needed him even more? At least, I thought I did. According to Ava, I would soon be so independent I would need no one and nothing I didn’t get for myself. There was that moment coming for her, the same moment that had come for Brianna, when she would break away, leave us, leave Daddy. Brianna had not come back for even a day. Would that be true for Ava as well? Could I do that, leave and never see Daddy again? Right now, I didn’t see how.
These depressing thoughts weighed heavily on me. I grew tired. That’s good, I thought. I wanted to go to sleep and forget. Mornings always made things look better. Tomorrow, I hoped, would be no different. Good night, Daddy, I thought, looking up at the ceiling.
Just as I reached to turn off the lamp on my side table, I heard what sounded like scratching on one of my bedroom windows. At first, I thought it might just be the branch of an untrimmed bush caught in a twisted wind, but when I looked, I saw the clear outline of someone standing in the shadow just outside. He was in darkness, so I could not make out anything else about him. Was he a ghost or one of those young men I had once seen in a nightmare? When he tapped on the glass, he brought himself closer, and I gasped.
It was Mark.
How had he found out where we lived? I had told no one at school, and Marla certainly wouldn’t have told anyone. It was one of the most forbidden things to do. He tapped again, much louder this time. I got out of bed quickly, fearful that he would draw someone else’s attention. He stepped back as I opened the window softly. He was wearing a black leather jacket and black pants to camouflage himself in the darkness. I looked past him and didn’t see any car.
“How did you get here?”