Craving Resurrection Page 4

“Oh, good, you’re home.”

“Where else would I be?” I asked, rolling over to look at her.

“Good point.” She brushed her hands over the light blue dress she was wearing, making sure nothing was out of place after her short walk home from the local realtors office where she was a receptionist. “Your father and I are having a guest over later, so be sure to stay in your room after you grab some dinner.”

“Okay,” I replied woodenly, refusing to show any emotion.

“Finish your homework.”

She walked out of the room and I listened for her bedroom door to close before I dropped my head to the bed and struggled not to cry. It had been months since they’d had any ‘visitors,’ and I’d been hoping that it was all over since we’d moved to a new town. They’d put me into a private Catholic school, for God’s sake, and we’d started going to Mass again every Sunday for the first time in years. I’d let myself believe that things would be different.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

At least I had tea at Peg’s to look forward to the next day, that was something. I leaned back up and returned to the math homework I’d been working on, but I wasn’t able to focus.

As excited as I was to visit with Peg, I couldn’t help the worry that pooled in the pit of my stomach. Our house was tiny, and I was going to have to figure out how to make myself as scarce as possible when their visitor arrived. I didn’t even know if I could stand to be in my bedroom, which shared a wall with both the living room and their bedroom.

I glanced at my window and came to the conclusion that I would climb out after dinner. The nights were still pretty warm, and if I took my flashlight, I’d be able to read while I was out there. I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to hide, but I was hoping I could still get a little sleep since I had school the next day. With that decision made, there was only one thing left to worry about.

How the hell was I going to discuss my life with Peg without hinting at all about my parents’ lives? I wasn’t clear on Irish customs, but I was pretty sure that hiring prostitutes—the younger the better—wasn’t considered normal behavior for married couples with children.

If Ballyshannon were anything like the previous towns I’d lived in, nothing good would come from people knowing about their extra-curricular activities.

No one could know.

Chapter 2

Amy

I waited until I heard my dad come home that night and voices began filtering in through the wall connected to my parents’ bedroom before I grabbed my comforter, a flashlight and my tattered copy of Fahrenheit 451 and climbed out my window. There was a thick patch of grass beneath it between our house and the one next to it that provided me a safe little cocoon as I leaned against the wall.

I wrapped my comforter around me, pulling it up and over my head so I could turn the flashlight on without drawing attention to myself while I read. It wasn’t ideal; I’d much rather be inside, but it worked. I was just glad our house had only one story, or I would have been shimmying down a frigging drainpipe to get away.

I read most of the book before my eyes grew tired, but I still hadn’t seen or heard anyone come out our front door. I wasn’t sure how late it was, but I knew from experience that sometimes ‘visitors’ stayed well into the night. I’d just have to wait them out.

I jerked awake with a gasp some time later when I felt someone shaking my shoulder. My feet were freezing, and I was soaking wet.

“What in God’s name are ye doin’ out here, Amy?” Peg scolded as she rubbed my shivering shoulders.

“I didn’t want my parents to know I was awake reading, so I snuck out here last night… I must have fallen asleep.” The lie passed my lips easily, but Peg’s expression told me she didn’t believe my bullshit.

“Now, ye remember when I said I’d seen ye around, dontcha?” she asked quietly.

“Y-yes.” I was stuttering as she stared me down.

“I see most things that happen around here. Probably comes from havin’ too much time on my hands…” She let that sink in as my eyes grew wide. “Seen that gash goin’ in yer house last night with yer da.”

I gulped, but stayed silent.

“Also saw her leave not an hour past,” she told me with a nod. “Get on back in yer bedroom before ye catch yer death.”

I scrambled to my feet, too relieved that she hadn’t asked me any questions to ask any of my own. I gave her an impulsive hug before I picked up my flashlight that had rolled a little from my hiding place and crawled back inside. Then I closed my window as she walked away as if nothing had happened.

When I glanced at my clock, it was four in the morning. Thank God, I’d get a couple of hours of sleep in an actual bed before I had to get up again for school. I was so exhausted, I couldn’t even think about how awful it was that Peg knew my secret.

***

I was distracted all day during school, my anxiety about what Peg had seen making me jittery and unfocused. I wasn’t sure what would happen. Would she tell everyone? Ballyshannon wasn’t a tiny town, but it seemed pretty close-knit. God, my life would be over if anyone knew, especially if my schoolmates’ devout Irish Catholic families found out.

By the time I walked home that afternoon, I could feel hives beginning to form on my wrists and the tops of my hands. I think it was a family trait; both my mother and I dealt with the physical manifestation of stress. I was alternately scratching and rubbing my arms through my cardigan by the time I passed Peg’s front steps.

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