Faking Faith (13 page)

“Amen,” said Elijah, putting his arm around his wife, who smiled adoringly at him.

“Amen,” said Mrs. Dean.

“Amen,” repeated the rest of the table. Except for me. I still hadn’t gotten the hang of that.

Mr. Dean looked down the table at his family, the same sort of smug possessive look on his face that Beau had earlier. “A man isn’t anything without a family. And a woman,” he said as he looked pointedly at Abigail, “isn’t anything without her man. Isn’t that right, daughter?”

Abigail put her hands in her lap, and I could sense that she was bracing herself. “Of course, Daddy.”

I glanced across the table at Asher, who was still refusing to meet my eye after our awkward interaction the day before. But he also looked worried and muddled, shooting glances at Abigail and at Beau and compulsively moving his food around his plate.

I wasn’t the only one who was disturbed by the
situation.

SIXTEEN

L
ater that night, after the guests were gone and everyone
was in bed, I could hear Abigail quietly catching her breath. It sounded like she was trying to stop crying.

“Abigail?” I finally whispered, looking across the darkened room at her.

“Faith, you’re still awake?” she replied, sniffling.

“Yeah … are you okay?”

“Oh, it’s silly,” she said.

“What’s silly?”

There was a long pause.

“Do you know if … do your parents have anyone picked out for you?” she asked. “I mean, I know you’re not supposed to think of those things until God sends you your true love and you enter a courtship, but lots of girls have an inkling ahead of time, especially if he’s someone from your church.”

“Right … ” I said.

“So, do you?”

I stared up at the dark ceiling, totally confused about how to handle this situation.

“Um … I don’t think so. Or at least they haven’t mentioned anyone. I guess they might want me to find someone on my own.”

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked over at me. The glow from the barn light caught her eyes and they glittered.

“Really? But isn’t that kind of risky?”

“Risky?” I repeated.

“Well, how could you be sure that you’re marrying a good man? And how can you guard your heart while you’re looking for him? If they just send you off into the world to find your own way, how will you be protected? What if you fall in love with the wrong person?”

Those were actually all perfectly valid questions. Beyond giving me a place to live and food to eat and money to buy stuff and the occasional lecture, at this point my parents basically did jack shit to make sure I was protected or that I didn’t fall in love with the wrong person. Of course, that meant they also gave me the freedom to more or less do whatever I wanted.

It was kind of a trade-off.

“I don’t know. They’re hoping that I can deal with it all by myself, I guess,” I said.

“Oh,” said Abigail, lying back down on her side, hands folded to the side of her cheek. “That must be scary.”

I thought about Blake and his face as he shoved me away from his car. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

We were both silent for a moment.

“Faith?” she said, just as I began to assume she’d fallen asleep.

“Hmm?”

“What did you think of Beau? I mean, honestly. Don’t fib.”

I silently twisted the blanket in my hands.

“He … seems nice. It’s nice that he’s, you know, already kind of part of your family,” I said, stretching for good things to say. Because what else could I tell her? If I admitted how gross and suspicious I found him, it would just make her feel bad. And I knew how much she wanted a happily ever after.

“You think so?”

“Sure,” I replied. “But really, the important thing is what you think of him and how he makes you feel.”

She was silent.

“Abigail?”

“He’s a fine man,” she said firmly.

“Yeah, you’ve said that already. What else?”

She sighed softly.

“You can’t tell anyone about this or I’ll … I’ll completely disown you,” she said with a small, sad laugh.

“Okay?” I prompted.

She turned over in bed so she was staring straight up at the ceiling.

“He’s … well, he’s said some things to me,” she said. “In the past.”

“Things?” I was confused. “Like what?”

“A few weeks ago, after he came over to talk to Daddy one afternoon, he … he came out to the barn while I was getting the chicken feed. No one else was around. And he came up behind me and put his hands on me … ” Abigail’s voice was beginning to quaver.

I caught my breath.

“He … he put his hands on you? Where?”

“Right here.” In the darkness, I could just make out that she put her hands on her rib cage, below her breasts. “And he pulled me back and squeezed me so hard I almost couldn’t breathe and then he whispered in my ear that … that … ”

She stopped and took a deep breath. I waited in silent shock.

“He told me that I was defrauding, just by walking around in front of him, and that all he wanted was to put the sinful thoughts out of his head and be with me as a husband is with his wife. And then he kissed my cheek and … and squeezed me again … and told me it would be a bad idea to tell Daddy what had just happened, because Daddy would know it was my fault.”

“Are you serious?” I asked. As if Abigail would joke about something like this.

She put her hands over her face. “Faith, it was so awful! I’ve felt so terrible about it ever since!”

“Was that the first time he ever did something like that?” I asked, barely recognizing my own dangerous voice.

She shook her head, hands still over her face. “No, there were a few other times.”

“For how long?”

“For a while,” she said. “Since Rachel and Elijah started courting, I guess, and he’s been coming around. I try not to think about it. But … but that was the worst time.”

Rage began to bloom in my chest. A rage like I hadn’t felt since I came upon Blake and Caitlin Merriweather propped up against his car. My internal Faith-censor went straight out the window and flew ten miles across the cornfields and exploded in the sky.

“Abigail, this is unacceptable. That man is a complete molesting asshole and you should never talk to him again.”

She took her hands off her face and looked at me. “Did you just say—”

I interrupted her. “No, really. The next time I see him I’m seriously going to kick him in the balls.”

“Faith!” she said, with a shocked laugh.

“Did you tell your parents about this?”

“Nooo,” she said slowly. “They really like him. They … they’ll probably think it was my fault, just like he said.”

“That’s such BS!” I burst out. “How about Asher? Did you tell him?”

“No, of course not!” Abigail said quickly. “He’d … I don’t know, he might try and fight Beau or something, and it would be bad for everyone. He can’t do anything.”

I propped myself up on my elbow, feeling ready to go into battle.

“Maybe someone
needs
to kick the crap out of him!”

“No, Asher would just get in trouble with Daddy.
Shhh
, please, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Abigail! He
assaulted
you! Is that really something a good Christian man would do?”

She made a strangled sort of uncertain sound.

“No … I suppose not.” She didn’t sound convinced. “But
assault
is kind of exaggerating. And, I mean, I probably did do something to encourage him. Without knowing. Maybe my dress was too tight or I smiled too much—”

“No,” I said. “It absolutely wasn’t your fault! It was all him.”

“I don’t know … he’s a good person in other ways, and—”

“You can’t blame yourself for this,” I insisted, my heart beating fast in my anger, my voice rising. “Beau is a gross old letch. Don’t you see how he looks at you? Like you’re a piece of meat? And all he did was brag about himself and act important. Just because he can recite some Bible passages and agrees with your dad about pre-tribulation Rapture or whatever doesn’t make him a good guy. Or a good future husband. God, Abigail, how can you even consider marrying him after what he did to you?”

Abigail had gone still during my rant, her arms now crossed tightly against her chest.

“I think I’ve said too much,” she whispered. “Thanks for your support, Faith, but I’ve realized this is a private matter. I shouldn’t have brought you into it.”

I’d lost her. I’d pushed it too far and gotten out of character and I’d lost her.

“Abigail, I’m sorry, I just—”

“I’m
sorry your parents don’t consider it their duty to find you a husband. You know, I was under the impression that our families had similar beliefs about things like that.” Her voice was icy. “The Lord punishes envy, you know.”

“Are you trying to say I’m jealous of you? Because of Beau?” For a second, I couldn’t help but marvel at the bizarre backward parallels in my weird life. I wished that I could call up Kelsey and Amanda right that minute and tell them about it.

“I’ve been wondering, for a while in fact, if we really are so much alike,” Abigail said coolly.

I didn’t really have anything to reply. She’d told me her secret, and all I ended up doing was screwing things up and driving her away. And now she was suspicious.

“Good night, Faith,” she said, with finality, and turned to face the wall.

I stayed awake, my mind racing, long after her breathing turned deep and regular.

SEVENTEEN

W
hen the alarm went off the next morning, I sat straight up in bed and turned to Abigail. It felt like I’d been completely conscious the entire night, going over my options, and I knew exactly what I was going to say.

“Abigail,” I said, “I’m really sorry about what I said last night.”

She rubbed her eyes and then looked at me, blond wisps framing her sleepy face. She didn’t say anything.

“Remember what you told me, about asking for forgiveness?” I asked. “When I make a mistake, I mean. I’m really sorry and I hope you’ll forgive me. The truth is, I
was
jealous. I wish I knew a guy like Beau who wanted to marry me. I wish my parents would find me a good man. And I was tired and cranky and I spoke out of envy. I’m sorry.”

Even as the words came out of my mouth, I felt gross and disgusting. I was taking the chicken’s way out. I was doing whatever I could to cover my ass and continue in my Faith lie, instead of being honest.

As I searched her face, Abigail gave me a small smile. And I felt like the worst person in the whole world. But I hoped that maybe this way, I could continue being her friend and maybe find a way to help her.

She got out of bed, came over, and grabbed my hands. “Of course I forgive you, Faith. It was very sweet of you to apologize like that. It’s water under the bridge. Okay?”

I smiled back up at her, both relieved and hating myself. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said.

I nodded.

“No seriously,” she said, looking me right in the eye, an intensity in her face that I hadn’t seen before. “Promise that you won’t mention it. To anyone. Ever.”

“I … promise,” I said.

. . .

It was the hottest day of the summer so far. By eleven a.m., it was over ninety degrees, and my ridiculous long denim skirt stuck to the back of my thighs whenever I sat down. Sweat dripped off everyone’s faces, even with all the fans in the house turned up to high. I longed for a pair of shorts and a tank top.

Mrs. Dean left to go to a doctor’s appointment in the morning, so Abigail and I were in charge of the house. We fixed everyone sandwiches for lunch, and then I watched Abigail and tried not to cringe as she gave a science lesson out of a book to the little kids. She was teaching them how dinosaurs had existed in the Garden of Eden, and how they had been wiped out in Noah’s flood, their bones scattered across the world.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“But what did the dinosaurs eat in Eden?” asked Luke, who was seven.

“Coconuts!” said Abigail brightly. “Before the Fall of Man, dinosaurs were vegetarian! Isn’t that amazing? God provided for all His creatures.”

Before she could continue, Asher came through the front door with a giant, boyish smile on his face.

“I’ve rigged up a surprise for everyone,” he told us, beaming. “Come and see.”

Outside was a long blue tarp, positioned so that it was facing down a small hill in the front yard. At the top was a hose going full blast and, as we watched, Asher dumped some liquid soap into the streaming water. Instantly, the tarp was covered in slippery bubbles.