Page 27 (1/2)

"Mr Vanderhoff!" I shout into his face His oiled mustache has a smell of its own, a sweet sickly cedar s!"

He yanks ed organ against my belly, and I’ around, and he’s stronger than you’d think for his state of intoxication

"Let ets to play with"

"Mr Vanderhoff!" I shout again as he rips the buttons froropes for , and he squeezes le silently What would a cry for help getmy elbon on his nose, and that makes him bellow

"You daripsat my shirtfront My arms are now pinned, so I use my only weapon I spit in his face

This time there’s no expletive, but his eyes darken I can tell he doesn’t care about intercourse, doesn’t care about the cost to his reputation or his family, he intends to hurt me He pulls up o for his ht to do it My brain stopped when he first grabbed my breast, but rowls, the fight suddenly out of his drawn up, I pull upbaby, akened by the commotion, and lock the door so there’s no easy way for Mr Vanderhoff to get in unless he crashes through panels like a rutting bull, and if he tries that, little Gerald will have to be my protector Mr Vanderhoff is a father, for God’s sake, not crazy enough to attack me in front of his son I don’t think he is, anyway Just in case, I take the baby with ainst the door

There are no words to my tears as I open my torn navy top for the baby No need to unbutton No buttons left They popped off on the satin bed cover As I pull out s plops out of my chemise and falls intosoftly to quiet the baby, "when the wind blows, the cradle will rock" Tears run down my face I’ me out of the closet, and force hiin I ith Lawrence I gave birth to his baby If I don’t struggle too ht not be too physically painful, but there would still be injury, a wound that starts in the vagina and goes straight to the heart

I slip the geet back into the bedrooer Seeing Mr Vanderhoff every day at breakfast and dinnerI couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep My fate is sealed I ht

But what about the baby? I wipe my wet face My little baby

Nothard Not h he feels like mine and I’m the one who nurses him and cares for himbut no matter Gerald is theirs, the cold Mrs Vanderhoff and the randy Mr Vanderhoff Gerald is theirs I look down at the chubby-cheeked five- down his chin, and gives rin that wouldhim, but that would be folly I’d be hunted down and i onwith the baby on the floor of the closet, and hear voices, then the clip-clip-clip of Mrs Vanderhoff’s hard high-heeled shoes co down the hall The door to her bedroom squeaks, and I freeze Will she see on the bed the buttons that popped off my blouse? Should I try to tell her about Mr Vanderhoff’s behavior? Would she believe one?

"What the hell do youh, insistent voice "Even Mrs Palmer could see you were soused, and she’s half blind I’ve never been so eies She yells some more