Make Me a Sanctuary…Exodus 25:8
Marie followed the older woman up the stairs. She couldn’t truly take in her surroundings; her head was still back in Meridian, she was exhausted, and she really had no idea who these people were, or how she’d ended up here instead of safe in her bedroom at home.
Home. She wasn’t sure she knew what the word meant any more. Lynn led her down a hallway decorated with colorful posters and opened a door into a small bedroom.
“Come here, sweetheart. Sit down.” Lynn brought her over to the bed. She sat beside the girl and took Marie’s gloved hands in her own. “You look exhausted, honey. You want to just lie down for a while, or you want to get cleaned up first?”
Marie just stared at her. Lynn’s sympathy was incomprehensible to her right now. She felt the warm hands on hers, the friendly pressure and the kind gaze—her eyes filled up with tears despite her best efforts. “I don’t know—I—” Lynn put an arm around her and she dropped her head onto the woman’s shoulder, careful to keep her face turned away.
“Shh. It’s okay, honey. I know how it is. My stepfather threw me out when I was fifteen. It’s hard, I know.” Marie gulped back sobs and felt Lynn’s hand stroking her back gently. “I promise, you’re gonna be okay. You’re lucky you ran into Logan. He’s a real good man. Don’t you worry.”
It took some time for Marie to get her tears under control, and Lynn just held her and soothed her until she finally sat up, wiping at her cheeks with the back of one hand. Lynn brushed a lock of hair out of her face carefully. “Feelin’ a little better?” Marie nodded. “You’ve got real pretty hair. So long.”
“I wasn’t allowed to cut it. My mama always said girls shouldn’t…” Marie tugged at the long mass self-consciously. “I was supposed to let it grow.”
“Well, it’s beautiful.” Lynn smoothed the long tresses back from her face with a professional touch. “Such a great color. People pay plenty to get this shade. I should know.” Marie managed a watery smile. “Tell you what. There’s a bathroom right through there. Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll find you something to wear, and then you can get into bed and sleep for a few hours. Sound good?” Marie nodded. “Okay. This way.”
An hour later, she was tucked into bed, her hair still damp but clean and smelling of Lynn’s homemade shampoo—lilac, she’d said. She was wearing a shirt and a pair of loose-fitting pants Lynn had produced for her, and they made her feel even more odd and far from home, because she’d never worn anything but nightgowns before. But they were clean and soft, and she snuggled into the down pillows and let Lynn pull the quilt up over her shoulders. Lynn turned off the bedside light, then went to the small window to close the curtains against the sunlight that filtered in between the buildings. When she started to leave the room, Marie raised her head.
“Where’s Logan?”
Lynn turned, one hand on the door. “Downstairs with Toby, I imagine. You want me to ask him to come up?”
Marie shook her head quickly. “I just wondered.”
“He won’t go anywhere without telling you,” Lynn said firmly. “You get some sleep. When you wake up, we’ll all talk about what you want to do next.” She turned out the overhead light and shut the door behind her, and Marie sank back onto the pillow, already half-asleep.
When Marie woke up, it was dark out, and she could hear noise coming from the bar downstairs. It took her a moment of disorientation to remember where she was, and to sort out why it was nighttime. She sat up, pushing down the covers, and went to the door, cracking it open just a bit.
“Hey, kid.” Logan was leaning up against the wall outside the room, holding a beer bottle. “How you feeling?”
“Better. Thanks.” She ducked her head and tugged the shirt Lynn had lent her down over her stomach. “What time is it?”
“’Bout ten.”
“Oh—I’m sorry. You should’ve woken me up.”
The man gave her a sharp look. “Point was for you to get some sleep.” She fell silent. “Lynn said she left you some clothes. Why don’t you get dressed and we’ll go get something to eat.”
Marie suddenly realized how hungry she was. She nodded and closed the door.
Ten minutes later she opened the door again, nervously smoothing the borrowed clothing into place. Everything was a little big on her, but with the style of clothing that was sort of a relief. Lynn’s boots only fit with the aid of a couple of extra pairs of socks, Marie hadn’t worn blue jeans since the fifth grade, and the top was a dark emerald green with some bright embroidery at the wrists. It wasn’t tight, but that was only because it was intended to hug Lynn’s ampler bosom. Instead, it hung loosely over her body; she’d found a safety pin in the bureau and pinned it closed at the neck.
Lynn had also left her a pair of long black stretchy gloves, much nicer than the cheap satin ones that had matched her party dress. She tugged them up over the sparkly decorations on her sleeves before stepping out into the hallway. “I’m ready.”
Logan looked her over, and Marie shifted a little nervously under his gaze. But he just nodded and gestured down the hall. “Come on. This way.” He shepherded her down the hallway and down another set of stairs; they came out in the bar, but into a back room that was dark and silent in comparison to the noise she could hear from out front. Marie could just make out chairs stacked against the walls and what looked like a cage standing in the center of the room.
“What’s that?”
“Never mind.” Logan put a hand on her back and steered her to a side door, which opened out into the street. The air was cool and she shivered a little as he led the way down the street. “You cold?”
“I’m all right.” It was only a block or so before they came to a small restaurant and he stopped.
“This’ll do.” It was a quiet place, with red checkered tablecloths and candles on the tables; only a few patrons were seated around the room. A waiter in a white apron came bustling up to them and Logan pointed toward a table in the back. “Somewhere quiet.”
He waited until they were seated and the waiter had left before he said anything else. “So we gotta figure out what you’re gonna do.”
“I know.”
“You got any ideas?” She shook her head. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in February.”
Logan rubbed hand over his jaw. Great. Just great. “So you’re still in high school, right?” He wasn’t sure, but that sounded too young for college.
“It’s summer vacation,” she said, and suddenly tears pooled up in her eyes. “I’m sorry. That was really stupid.”
“Hey. Cut it out.” He saw the waiter headed toward their table and put a hand out across the table. “Marie. Take it easy.” She sniffled hard but managed to restrain the tears as the man set down two glasses of water and a breadbasket.
“Do you know what you’d like? Special tonight, gumbo or shrimp étouffée.” The waiter wasn’t even looking up from his pad.
“Steak. Rare.”
“And you, ma’m’selle?” Marie was staring down at her hands in her lap, and Logan knew she wasn’t going to be able to answer.
He tried to make his voice as gentle as he could. “What do you think, kid? You like spicy food?” She managed a shrug. “How about spaghetti? You got somethin’ like that?”
“Best spaghetti and meatballs in the city, m’sieur.”
“Great. Bring her that. And bring me a beer, whatever you got on draft. And, I don’t know, a Coke for her.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.” The waiter bustled away. Marie wiped a hand across her face.
“I’m sorr—“
“Quit it. Just quit apologizing, right now.” Two more tears trickled down her face and he clenched his teeth. Good goin’, genius. “Look, I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean to yell at you. Just…stop sitting there thinking I’m gonna dump you in an alleyway somewhere if you say the wrong thing.”
She made a choked sound that he thought was a sob for a second, until she reached for her glass and took a gulp of water. When she looked up after her drink, he saw that she was trying not to smile. She grabbed her napkin and wiped her eyes, finally meeting his gaze. “I don’t think that. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I appreciate it. Really.”
“Well, don’t make a big deal out of it,” he said gruffly.
She nodded meekly as she shook her napkin out and laid it delicately across her lap. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
He wasn’t quite sure if she was laughing at him.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
After the storm there comes a calm. Usually.