“That sounds like just what we need,” Arthur says. “Inadequacy of judgment.”
Father Flannery holds his mug out to Arthur and presses his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. He sniffs as he does it, as if this will cement them into place. “That doesn’t seem to apply, Arthur. Not after twenty years.”
Reesa nods, closes her eyes and pats her forehead with a yellow handkerchief while pushing her mug across the table toward Celia to be refilled. Giving the pot a little shake to show that it’s empty, Celia mouths the word “sorry” and steps to the counter to brew up some more.
“Sure it applies,” Arthur says. “Inadequacy of judgment. We all had it.”
He turns to Celia for help.
“They were very young when they married, right?” Celia says. “Young people don’t always make good decisions.” Then, dropping one spoonful of coffee into the percolator, shorting the batch by two scoops of grounds, she checks inside the stove. Still no pie.
“They were both adults,” Father Flannery says, sipping his coffee. “Young, but adults. Both of sound mind. No undue force, I presume. How’s that pie coming, Mrs. Scott?”
“Won’t be but a moment, Father.” Celia stands at the head of the table, her hands still on her hips. “I can’t imagine what I’ve done with it.”
Father Flannery leans back in his chair, his large stomach pushing against the edge of the table. “Did you try on top of the refrigerator? Some of the ladies like to keep their pies on top of the refrigerator.”
“Father, there has to be something.” Arthur rubs the heel of both hands into his eye sockets. “Undue force. There was undue force. You know what happened. We were all under undue force. That was a terrible time. For everyone.”
Slipping behind Arthur, Celia grabs onto the top of the refrigerator and stands on her tiptoes. Nothing.
“I know. I know,” Evie says, clapping her hands together. “The Clark City men took your pie.”
“Please stop talking about Clark City,” Celia says.
“But the kids at school say they escape all the time. Ian’s brother says they catch rides on the backs of pickup trucks and jump off when they see the lights of the first house. Everyone knows that our house is the first house after the Brewster place. They take food. Like pie. They take food because they’re hungry. Ian says a Clark City man cooked up old Mrs. Murray on the radiator, that radiator right over there in the corner. And Ian says a Clark City man stole Julianne Robison right out of her very own house.”
“Good Lord in heaven,” Reesa says. “Hush, child. No one took that pie. I put it on the front porch to cool.”
Celia spins on her heel to face Reesa. “Reesa, why didn’t you…” but Arthur gives her a look that tells her he’s heard quite enough about the pie.
“So what about that undue force, Father?” Arthur says.
Father Flannery stands, staring at Ruth so hard that she can’t lift her head. “I think we owe it to Ray to include him in these discussions. An annulment is no small matter.”
“It damn sure isn’t,” Arthur says, also standing.
He is taller than Father Flannery by a good four inches but not nearly as round. Both men rest their fingertips on the edge of the table-Father Flannery on one end, Arthur on the other.
“Ray will not set foot in this house,” Arthur says. “I’ll make that perfectly clear.”
“Understood,” Father Flannery says. “We’ll meet in the church, then. Or perhaps down at the café. When Ray returns, he’ll have his thoughts heard.” Father Flannery shakes his head as Elaine walks through the front door carrying the pie. “Thank you anyway, Mrs. Scott, but I’ll need to be getting along.”
“Twenty years this has been going on, Father. Where has the church been for twenty years?”
“And you, Arthur? Where have you been for twenty years?” The Father takes his coat from the back of the chair and drapes it over his arm.
Reesa pats her shiny, red cheeks with her handkerchief, the same one she carries into church every Sunday. Elaine sets the pie on the table and stands by Ruth, who is still staring at the floor. Celia crosses her arms and starts tapping her foot, but she stepped into her lavender slippers when they came back from their walk, so it doesn’t make any noise.
“Thank you for the coffee, Mrs. Scott.” The Father nods in Celia’s direction. “Reesa,” he says, giving Reesa the same nod.
“Father.” From her spot near the stove, Ruth lifts her head, but not her eyes, and pulls her thin sweater closed as she wraps her arms around herself. “Maybe an annulment isn’t called for.”
“Ruth,” Arthur says. “What are you saying? It damn sure is called for. That man beat you nearly senseless.”
“Arthur,” Celia says, holding up a hand, and then in a softer voice, “Ruth, you deserve some peace. I agree with Arthur. No matter what, that home is not safe for you.”
Ruth touches the ends of her new hair. “I don’t know if I can ever go back to him, Father.” She turns toward Celia and Arthur. “And I’m so grateful that you’ve taken me in. But I can’t have an annulment.”
Father Flannery crosses his arms and rests them on his large stomach. “A married woman goes back, Ruth. She doesn’t live in her brother’s house.”
“Yes, Father. I’ll stay married, but I don’t know if I can go back.”
“Ruth, honey,” Celia says, running a hand over Ruth’s new hair. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Damn sure don’t,” Arthur says.
Reesa crosses her arms and frowns because Arthur cursed again in front of Father Flannery.
“They’re right, Ruth,” Father Flannery says, sniffing and pushing his glasses into place. He stands for a moment, fixing his eyes on Ruth as if the Holy Spirit will sort out the problem if he gives it time and a little silence. “Is there something more I should know?”
“No, Father. Nothing.”
Still staring at Ruth, Father Flannery pulls on his black overcoat, tugs his collar into position and puts on his hat. “Reesa,” he says, keeping his eyes on Ruth. “Anything I should know about?”
Reesa stretches her chin into the air and pats the folds of her neck. With her eyes closed and her face tilted toward the ceiling, she says, “No, Father. Nothing at all.”
“What about you, son?” Father Flannery says.
Inside the back door, Ian and Daniel stand, their cheeks red, their noses shiny because they’ve just come in from the cold.
“Do you think there’s anything else I should know about?”
Daniel steps into the kitchen and looks around the room. “I’m not sure what you mean, Father. We were out”-he pauses-“walking.”
“Yeah,” Ian says, stepping up next to Daniel and rubbing his right hip with the heel of his palm. “Out walking.” Ian seems to shrink every time Celia sees him.
“Very well, then.” Father Flannery steps away from the table, pushes in his chair and tips his hat. “It seems we’ve no need to discuss this matter again.” He turns toward Ruth. “I’d like to see you in church tomorrow.”
“She hasn’t been in church, Father,” Arthur says, “because Ray beat her face to a pulp.”
Father Flannery ignores Arthur. “Tomorrow, then. You’re looking well, Ruth, quite well. Doesn’t she look pretty with her new hair, Eve?”
“I’m Evie, Father.”
Chapter 10
Leaning against the kitchen sink, her arms crossed, Celia taps her lavender slipper. Reesa struggles out of her chair and shuffles after Father Flannery. Facing Celia on the opposite side of the kitchen, Arthur stands, his arms also crossed. He lowers his head, staring at her from under the hood of his brow, and as his mother passes, he steps aside to make room without ever taking his eyes off Celia. Daniel and Ian have disappeared down the basement stairs, and Elaine, pressing a finger to her lips so Evie won’t speak, leads Evie out of the kitchen toward her bedroom.