Elizabeth opened the book. It was the scene inthe theater closet.
Her children were not due toperform for ten more numbers. She didn't know how she would fighther boredom. Suddenly, her phone buzzed, indicating a text message.It said, "Did you follow my instructions?"
She quickly uncrossed andre-crossed her legs. The air hitting her exposed parts titillatedher. She texted back, "Of course."
The return text, "Boots andnothing else?"
"Yes, sir," was herresponse.
The next text was his direction."Theater closet, 2 min."
Nellie leaned over and whisperedto Terry. "My stomach is not feeling that great. I need to go usethe restroom. I'll be back before the kids go on."
And with that, she slid out of herseat, grateful she had picked the aisle seat. While Ben had notcommunicated specifics with her before, she had a feeling he wouldwant to see her tonight. It was risky, which made it all the moreexciting for the both of them. Nellie made her way out and walkedthe long way around, approaching the closet from the oppositedirection. When she was sure no one was looking, she slowly openedthe door.
Before she knew what washappening, she was grabbed from behind and pushed over a steamertrunk. He yanked on her ponytail, forcing her head back. The forceknocked her necklace off. She watched the silver fall down, and themother-of-pearl shatter as it hit the floor. Her long black skirtwas lifted, and she felt a hand reach around and open her fuchsiasweater and reach inside her black bra.
It went on to describe some fairlyexplicit acts. But it was the description of the outfit that gotElizabeth. Other scenes were the same. Like the one at the soccerfield. Her hair was longer and now had bangs. She was wearingslim-fitted ankle-length jeans that were distressed and lookedsomewhat torn. Her shirt was a kelly-green tunic with interestingpleats and twists. The book contained a description of the sameoutfit.
"I know why he wanted access toNancy's Facebook account."
"Why? I thought that was weird, ifhe wasn't writing about her."
Elizabeth handed Susan the book,open to the theater closet scene. "Read this."
"I already have."
"No, read it again.Carefully."
After a few minutes, Susan handedthe book to Jayne. Jayne was a much faster reader. When Jayne wasfinished she looked at Elizabeth. Elizabeth turned the computeraround and showed them her pictures. "These are my pictures fromthe talent show last year. Peter took them."
"Holy hell." From Jayne.
"He—was—spying on you?" Susanstammered.
"Apparently. He did his research bygaining access to everything I posted on Facebook throughNancy."
"This fucks you over evenmore."
"Jayne, that's not the kind ofsupport Elizabeth needs right now."
Elizabeth was confused. "I'm notsure I can get more fucked over right now."
"You can’t deny any of this.There's the proof that it happened."
"But it didn't!" Elizabeth wailed."None of these encounters happened!"
"We know that, honey. Don't we,Jayne?" Susan gave Jayne a stern look that said that Jayne had nochoice but to agree.
Elizabeth bent over, her head inher hands between her knees. She felt like this was her newposture; cowering in fear and defeat. Ashamed. Susan and Jayne justwatched her. "What am I going to do? What do I do? How—where—who?Do I talk to Nancy? Jack? Peter? Oh God. Peter? What do I say tohim? God, he doesn't even know I'm here. I have to call him. Whatdo I say? Oh God, what am I going to do?"
"Elizabeth, you've got to calmdown." Susan said firmly. "Breathe." It was enough to makeElizabeth stop and focus. She took a few deep breaths.
"Thanks, Susan. Now tell me, whatdo I do?"
"Call Peter and tell him you'rehere. Just tell him I needed you for something, and that you'll beback tomorrow."
"Don't get into all of this," Jaynewarned. "No need to right now. Just give yourself some time, andwe'll help you figure out what to do."
Elizabeth stood up, nodding. Shestood there with a blank look on her face. She had no idea of whereher phone was.
Susan realized what Elizabeth wasdoing. "I brought your stuff in, including your phone. It's in theguest room."
Elizabeth smiled weakly, and wentto call her husband. She looked at her watch. It was after seven.When she found her phone, she was somewhat surprised that he hadnot called her, wondering where she and the kids were.
"Hey, it's me."
"Oh, hey. What's up? Do you havethe kids?"
"Um, no. Actually, my mom hasthem."
"Okay. Why?"
"I, um, had to come up toSusan's."
"Susan?"
Elizabeth clawed at the air. "Youknow, Susan. I worked with her for six years. She was my bestfriend. Susan."
"Oh, right."
"Anyway, I had to come up here. Mymom has the kids."
"What's the plan for the nightthen?"
"Can you call my mom and askher?"
"Why aren't you cominghome?"
"We're just hanging out, and it'salmost a two-hour drive home. I'm pretty tired, so I'll come backin the morning. You'll probably need to take the morning off fromwork."
"What! I can't do that. I have animportant meeting."
Elizabeth didn't have the strengthto fight. "Fine. I'll be home in a few hours. Have my mom bring thekids home. That's all right, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess." Peter's tone wasanything but convincing. He just sounded perturbed.
Elizabeth sighed. "I guess I'dbetter get on the road then. I hope I can stay awake." She knew itwas slightly excessive, laying on the guilt, but she was pissedthat he couldn't step up, yet again.
"Yup," he said,absently.
She disconnected.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: June28, 2012
Elizabeth was paralyzed. She didn'tknow what to do. There was no one she could talk to about thisexcept for Susan. But she couldn't stay hidden away here. Herchildren needed her. And she needed to reclaim her life. Somehow.She just wasn't sure how to go about it. She knew that it wouldn'tbe easy, whatever path she chose. Fear and indecision left herimmobile. She wanted just to go to sleep and wake up with a cleanslate. She wanted none of this to have happened. She wished she hadnever been so desperate as to put herself in Jack's hands, open andvulnerable. This is what she got for being vulnerable.
Agnes was right. Oh God, how itpained her to admit that. Agnes never let anyone help her. She wasnever vulnerable. She was fiercely independent and would not letanyone in, not even her own husband, Thomas,
