Free Retribution by Regina Smeltzer Page A

responsible for women-folk. Sometimes it drives me nuts.”
    As Trina talked, the fabric on the woman’s shirt moved, and memories resurrected from a time when life had grown within her, too. And holding Susan for the first time with Craig snuggled close beside her. Baby baths and smoothing lotion on tender skin. Watching as Susan took her first steps, the first time she used the potty…a small casket beside a larger one.
    The smell of smoke everywhere. Numbness. Meaningless platitudes from well-meaning friends. And before the pain could settle, the police investigation started. There had been no time to grieve.
    She stared at the face across the table and felt an acceptance that had been missing in her life for two years. Before she could stop them, the words flowed. “I lost my child.” Tears blurred her vision. “She was two years old.”
    Trina’s eyes grew round as she clutched her hands to her chest. “That must have been awful. I can’t even imagine.”
    Lillian felt Trina’s hand clutch hers and she became rigid. Hesitantly, she wrapped her fingers around the other woman’s, feeling strength bind them in a strange union.
    “You don’t need to say another word. It would be hard for me to look at a pregnant woman if I lost my unborn baby, but to lose a child…will you be OK staying here, or do you want me to help you find another place?” Trina’s eyes became hazel pools of compassion.
    This was her way out as well as the smart thing to do, not only because of the pregnancy, but also because of Bill’s strange reaction to her. Trina had just provided the opportunity to gracefully escape.
    But the words remained fixed in the back of her throat, caught on a tonsil she didn’t even have. All she could do was focus on their hands clutched together across the table.
    One summer before fourth grade, she and her best friend, Karen, had each picked off a scab and rubbed the open wounds together, proclaiming them blood sisters. The sisterhood had lasted all summer, but once school started, and they ended up in different classes, the pact was forgotten. Neither thought about the bond they had cemented that June.
    Whatever was happening now felt similar and yet different. Certainly, the connection had not been there when Lillian had walked down the stairs an hour ago. Earlier she had prayed for God’s strength for the day. Was God even still there for her? If so, why had He guided her to South Carolina to live with a pregnant woman? Could this be His way of helping her heal? Staying at the McIverson Bed and Breakfast had seemed a matter of convenience, but now she wasn’t sure. But she knew what she needed to do. “I want to stay.”
    As soon as the words were spoken, thorns of doubt dug into her skin. She thought about Bill, and how he seemed to scrutinize her. What did she know about him, or this family? Maybe the room had been wearing its best garments, wooing her, waiting, needing her to stay for its own agenda. She tried to shake off the sense of “something else,” but the feeling of oppression remained. It made no sense, but it chilled her none the less.
    She had to rely on being within God’s will, but was she?

7
    “Dr. Hunter, we are so happy that you can join the faculty on such short notice.”
    Lillian accepted the outstretched hand of Dr. Gilbert Roman. “Unless it is protocol, please call me Lillian.” The man towered over her like a rugged lumberjack, whiskers, red hair and all.
    “Lillian, it is. You’ll meet the rest of the team this afternoon at the faculty meeting, but how about I give you a tour of the building and show you your office? I know President Carter wants to meet with you this morning, and we won’t want you to be late for that!”
    “The university isn’t very old,” Lillian said, examining the carpeted hall and spacious classrooms, mostly filled with students.
    “It was opened in the 1970s, and has grown tremendously since then. I think you will enjoy it here, if