Dorcas by Dara Girard Page B

last. Her younger daughter had a devil of time finding the right match (I even considered my own son for her, but my husband laughed at the idea). She was not only plain but shy, her mother prayed for a man to see her for who she was and she eventually did catch one. A fine looking man.
    Aletta was sour, as usual, at the wedding. “I don’t like him eyes,” she said.
    She always said strange things like that. “His eyes are fine,” I said, wishing that Dorcas' daughter could have made a prettier bride.
    “Then why him look 'pon the bridesmaids instead of the bride?”
    I didn’t know what to say. Michaela looked so happy and I was glad she was spared the lonely state of being single. A woman should marry. And if the man can be handsome that’s good. “Don't make up stories.”
    “I'm not.”
    I ignored her and looked at Dorcas. She glowed. Six months later that glow was gone. I'd spotted her in a local shop and waved, but she looked right through me. I walked up to her and nudged her.
    “Yuh not see mi wave?”
    “Mi sorry I have troubles 'pon mi mind.”
    “What troubles?”
    “Deena, is worried about Michaela and I haven’t heard from her either. I have to see what’s going on.”
    “How long has it been?”
    “Two weeks.”
    “No need to worry.”
    “She calls me every week and we come here. Last time she told me she was sick and I asked if I could go see her and she said no. This time she didn’t call.”
    “They’re newly married. Perhaps she wants time alone.”
    “No, something’s not right. That’s not my daughter.”
    “She’s a grown woman now.”
    Dorcas didn’t listen to me. “Come with me.”
     
    ***
     
    Michaela lived in a lovely colonial house. Her new husband made a handsome income. It still surprised me that such a plain girl could have gotten herself a man who was both handsome and well off. But she was a good soul, so I was happy for her. What I didn't like was the garden, it was choked by weeds and I know Michaela wouldn't have allowed that to happen. Dorcas knocked. It was few moments before someone came to the door.
    “Who is it?” Michaela asked.
    “It's me darling,” Dorcas said. “Your Mum.”
    Michaela seemed to hesitate then she opened the door.
    I screamed first then her mother after me or it may have been the other way round, I'm not quite sure. But I do know that when I saw Michaela's face I let out a sound I didn’t know I could make. I couldn't recognize her. And at that moment we knew that the fine looking man with a slow smile had a quick temper. He'd kept that temper well hidden. No one knew about it until that day.
    Michaela looked around like a frightened mouse, pulled us inside and closed the door. “What do you want?”
    “We wanted to see you.”
    “What happened?” I demanded.
    Michaela lowered her gaze. “I was clumsy.”
    We knew that was a lie. She may look as dull as dishwater but she had the grace of a swan. “He did this to you?”
    “He'll be home soon. You can’t be here. Go.”
    “I can't leave you here.”
    “It will only make him angry. Please Mummy.”
    “No. Get your things.”
    “I can't leave him. He loves me. I just made him angry.”
    I stiffened with anger. “Your father never touched you and you let a man you lay with do this?”
    Dorcas touched my sleeve to calm me. “You won't come with me?”
    “No. It won't happen again.”
    “He promised you that?”
    She nodded. Michaela froze when she heard a car door close. “He's home early. Don't say anything. Please.”
    I opened my mouth, but again Dorcas touched my sleeve, this time with more force. “We won't.” She went into the living room and sat down, as if nothing had happened. That was how Michaela's husband found us when he came in carrying two dozen red roses and a gold necklace. I smiled at him and had to admit that Aletta had been right. I didn't like his eyes either.
     
    ***
     
    A year later Michaela gave her husband a son and four months after that he