It's Been Decided

Alice

My hands tremble in my lap. I’m doing everything I can to control them, but listening to my stepfather yell into the telephone from his office downstairs makes it nearly impossible. The last few weeks, he’s been increasingly angrier more violent. Scrubbing the kitchen floor was just the beginning. I’ve been doing more housework recently than all the servants put together, which really isn’t all that terrible compared to the other ways he’s punished me. Absently, I lift a hand to my right bicep, still feeling his fingers as they bit into my skin.

“I won’t hit you where anyone will see the marks,” he’d told me right before he punched me in the stomach the night before. “But you’ll be made to pay for what you did to your mother, bitch.”

He’s insisted these past few days that I am the reason Mother died, that she couldn’t take my insolence anymore and purposely crashed her car trying to escape me.

Even though I know it’s not true, the thought of her suffering because of something I may have done makes my heart shudder with the same sort of grief I felt the moment I heard she was gone.

Henry came into my room about an hour ago, grabbed me by the arm, and hauled me down the stairs. I have no idea what’s going on. I can’t make out a single word from what he’s yelling on his phone in his office, but I know something terrible has happened. I cross my ankles then uncross them and recross them, trying to get my legs to stop shaking.

Peggy comes into the parlor where I’m sitting, a cleaning cloth and a can of dust spray in her hands. This room is spotlessly clean, so I know she has no reason to be polishing the furniture now. She’s simply trying to keep me company.

As she runs the cloth over the top of a bookshelf, she whispers, “I heard a bit.”

My eyebrows raise, but I don’t look at her. Instead, I keep my eyes on the door, waiting for Henry to burst into the space and assault me again.

Peggy doesn’t need me to acknowledge her in order to keep going. “The money’s gone. Apparently, he’s been gambling with it.”

Now, I turn my head to look at her, my mouth dropping open. All I can see is the back of her head, her curly brown hair tied up in a net to keep it out of her way as she continues to clean a piece of furniture that’s practically glowing it’s so free of dust.

I can’t believe what she’s saying is true–not that I think she’s lying. It’s just… all of it? My father was a millionaire. He left all of that money to my mother. Back when she first met Henry, he was so kind and thoughtful. He truly fooled both of us. No one could ever replace my father, but I thought Henry was the next best thing.

Once the wedding was finalized, and my mother added him to all of her accounts, everything changed for both of us. The act he’d been putting on fell to the wayside, and we saw his true colors. While Mother was still alive, he mostly left me alone, but now that she’s gone, well, I suppose I’m the only target he has for his rage.

“He’s trying to negotiate with some man he owes a lot of money to,” Peggy continues in a whisper. “But I don’t know his name.”

“Mr. Severin?” The name falls from my lips on a breath.

She turns and glances over her shoulder before she shrugs. “Possibly. I could only hear bits and pieces.”

We both hear the phone slamming down on Henry’s desk, him cursing, pounding his fist on the surface.

“You should go,” I tell Peggy.

She turns, shaking her head. “I can’t let him keep hurting you. None of us think–”

“Peggy!” My tone is more assertive than I’ve ever heard it. “Go. This is not your concern.”

“But…”

We hear the door to the office slam shut, and Peggy takes a step toward the exit. When she turns back to look at me, I see tears in her eyes. I know she’d sacrifice herself for me if I let her, but I have enough grief to bear without adding any more.

When Henry enters the parlor, he’s sweating profusely. Beads of perspiration dot his forehead; the pits of his jacket are soaked through.

I don’t move, only sit there on the sofa across from him, willing myself to stop shaking. His black eyes meet mine, and I see tears glistening there.

“It’s been decided.” His voice is relatively calm considering his disposition. “Tomorrow is the day.”

I swallow hard, knowing I should ask him something–tomorrow is the day… for what? But no words come out of my mouth. Instead, I blink at him a few times, wondering if he’s in a beating mood or if all the yelling has tired him out.

He takes a step toward me. “Tomorrow, everything will be made right again. And I’ll finally be rid of you.”

He spins around as quickly as I’ve ever seen him move his portly body and rushes down the hallway. I’ve been bracing myself for a beating for so long that my muscles finally let go, and I am a quivering mess. Tears spill from my eyes, my nose begins to run, and I throw my hands over my face to keep from drawing any more attention from him with my sobs.

Peggy rushes in and wraps her arms around me, pulling me toward her. “What did he say?” she asks.

“I don’t even know,” I admit. “Just that tomorrow it’ll all be over and…” Tears choke me such that I can’t finish my sentence.

“And what?” Peggy asks me.

His last sentence registers then. He’ll be rid of me? Is he going to… kill me?