It was one of those out of the way places, out past the tall cornstalks of Elloree, beyond the prying of
gossips, at the end of a road with no name. “Hickerau,” they called it, once an ill-fated village of the Santee Indians, where beautiful women walked barefoot in its natural springs, and everything on the menu comes à la carpe diem.
Dusk had come fifteen minutes past when Genevive Bordole turned off high- way 301 onto the narrow road.
The vestiges of daylight were lost beneath the star-shaped leaves of the sweet gum trees. They flew
by on either side of the road, their gnarled arms reaching for each other like children playing, little girls playing, her little girls playing, their little hands locked in eternal sisterhood. They enjoyed life together, spent each day together, told each other their secrets.
She made a promise to them the night she found out about Jim’s latest mistress. While lying in bed
that night she called out to God, asking what she did wrong, begging Him not to allow anything bad
to happen to her little girls, swearing she would do whatever it took to protect her babies.
As time went on, Jim’s iniquities grew more obvious. Kith and kin began pulling her aside at parties, asking questions they normally wouldn’t be asking, and though Genevive and her nanny, Senovia, tried their best to protect the girls, Genevive saw their world slowly falling apart.
The music she had originally put on when she first entered the car to soothe her nerves – a soft Celtic melody – was interrupted by the ringing of her phone.
“Hello?” she asked, almost certain who it was.
“Miss Genevive?” asked a soft, familiar voice.
Senovia, who had originally come to her as a nanny for the girls, shortly after her parents died, was recommended by a fellow lawyer and close friend. She had proven herself to be more necessary than calcium. The younger woman’s personality grew on her, and the two became close, making her a valuable ally and confidante. So she and Senovia stayed up one night mak- ing plans. They worked out every detail. Every possible arrangement was made. They mapped out a whole new life, in a whole new place, with no less than they already had, without Jim, without his mistresses, and no messy divorces and custody battles. “I became worried. You did not call.”
“I didn’t call you because I’m not there yet,” Genevive replied, trying to sound calmer than she really was.
“What? How far away are you? You still have time to turn around. Surely there is another way. We should never have resorted to this.”
“Now, Senovia. We talked about this. There is no other solution. It has to be done. You know that.”
Genevive heard the younger woman’s burdened sigh and felt even more grateful for her friendship and loyalty. She knew she could not have gotten through this alone.
She also knew that Senovia would do just about anything for the girls.
“Yes, Miss Genevive.”
“Have you finished packing?”
“Yes, Miss Genevive. I finished half an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry that it’s taking longer than I expected.”
“Be careful, Miss Genevive.” With that, Senovia disconnected.
Gene vive felt her own pang of doubt. Was this the right thing to do? Had she thought it through thoroughly? Her red clutch purse was on the passenger seat. She gazed at it. The bulge reminded her of the plan and its possible ramifications. She patted it with her right hand.
“It’s going to be OK,” she whispered, trying to convince herself, just as she had convinced Senovia, often wondering, over the course of a few weeks, what she was dragging the younger woman into.
TO BE CONTINUED…
