What's Done in Darkness by Laura McHugh

Author:Laura McHugh [McHugh, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2021-06-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

SARABETH, THEN

AGE 17

For once I was grateful when Retta volunteered us to clean up the church basement after Sunday school. Mama had hovered over me all week, crackling with the apprehensive energy of an aura preceding a migraine, busying me with extra chores, like washing the curtains and ironing the boys’ work overalls. I had told her, as soon as I got home from the disastrous ride with Jack, that Mrs. Darling was taking the computer to get fixed, so I wouldn’t be able to finish my class. She hadn’t asked any questions, and she didn’t say anything about Mrs. Darling calling, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t. The dread of not knowing curdled in my gut, giving me a constant stomachache.

Retta and I dragged the metal folding chairs to the storage closet and stacked them, banging them around more than necessary so the adults upstairs could tell we were hard at work.

“I have some news,” Retta said, her voice somewhere between a whisper and a squeal.

It was rare for anything to happen that truly qualified as news, though certainly my standards had declined over time. News, to Retta, usually meant a birth, death, or wedding, and she wouldn’t be so giddy about a funeral.

“Somebody getting married?”

“Mm-hm.” Retta bobbed her head, a bright pink flush spreading from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. “Guess who?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Give me a clue.”

“It’s me!” she said, flinging her arms around my neck and screeching in my ear.

“Really?” I felt my jaw drop, like in a cartoon, mouth gaping, and was glad she couldn’t see my face. I squeezed her tight. There was no reason to be surprised—Retta was a year older than me, and she’d been talking about getting married forever—but still, none of the talk had felt real, not until now.

“I wanted to tell you before you heard it from anyone else. It’s Philip Werner,” she said, pulling away and grabbing my hands.

I tried to think of something to say, but all I could manage was to repeat his name. “Philip Werner?”

Retta nodded, her eyes bright with tears. Philip was in his twenties, and his first wife and baby had died in childbirth. The most notable thing about him was his pallor—his hair was a colorless blond, his fair skin tinged blue like skim milk. He wasn’t unpleasant, though I couldn’t imagine Retta picking him if given her choice in a lineup.

She burst into giggles and squeezed my hands. “Can you believe it? It’s finally happening. I’m going to be married!”

“I’m so happy for you,” I said, knowing that was what she wanted to hear.

“Don’t worry,” Retta said. “It’ll be your turn soon. Maybe we’ll both have girls and they’ll play dolls together just like we used to.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe.”

“Okay, we’ll have plenty of time to talk about the wedding later, so now I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“Me? Nothing.”

“Sarabeth,” she chided. “I know you better than that. You’re jittery.

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