Bent Road by Lori Roy Page B

Arthur? Where have you been for twenty years?” The Father takes his coat from the back of the chair and drapes it over his arm.
    Reesa pats her shiny, red cheeks with her handkerchief, the same one she carries into church every Sunday. Elaine sets the pie on the table and stands by Ruth, who is still staring at the floor. Celia crosses her arms and starts tapping her foot, but she stepped into her lavender slippers when they came back from their walk, so it doesn’t make any noise.
    “Thank you for the coffee, Mrs. Scott.” The Father nods in Celia’s direction. “Reesa,” he says, giving Reesa the same nod.
    “Father.” From her spot near the stove, Ruth lifts her head, but not her eyes, and pulls her thin sweater closed as she wraps her arms around herself. “Maybe an annulment isn’t called for.”
    “Ruth,” Arthur says. “What are you saying? It damn sure is called for. That man beat you nearly senseless.”
    “Arthur,” Celia says, holding up a hand, and then in a softer voice, “Ruth, you deserve some peace. I agree with Arthur. No matter what, that home is not safe for you.”
    Ruth touches the ends of her new hair. “I don’t know if I can ever go back to him, Father.” She turns toward Celia and Arthur. “And I’m so grateful that you’ve taken me in. But I can’t have an annulment.”
    Father Flannery crosses his arms and rests them on his large stomach. “A married woman goes back, Ruth. She doesn’t live in her brother’s house.”
    “Yes, Father. I’ll stay married, but I don’t know if I can go back.”
    “Ruth, honey,” Celia says, running a hand over Ruth’s new hair. “You don’t have to do this.”
    “Damn sure don’t,” Arthur says.
    Reesa crosses her arms and frowns because Arthur cursed again in front of Father Flannery.
    “They’re right, Ruth,” Father Flannery says, sniffing and pushing his glasses into place. He stands for a moment, fixing his eyes on Ruth as if the Holy Spirit will sort out the problem if he gives it time and a little silence. “Is there something more I should know?”
    “No, Father. Nothing.”
    Still staring at Ruth, Father Flannery pulls on his black overcoat, tugs his collar into position and puts on his hat. “Reesa,” he says, keeping his eyes on Ruth. “Anything I should know about?”
    Reesa stretches her chin into the air and pats the folds of her neck. With her eyes closed and her face tilted toward the ceiling, she says, “No, Father. Nothing at all.”
    “What about you, son?” Father Flannery says.
    Inside the back door, Ian and Daniel stand, their cheeks red, their noses shiny because they’ve just come in from the cold.
    “Do you think there’s anything else I should know about?”
    Daniel steps into the kitchen and looks around the room. “I’m not sure what you mean, Father. We were out”—he pauses—“walking.”
    “Yeah,” Ian says, stepping up next to Daniel and rubbing his right hip with the heel of his palm. “Out walking.” Ian seems to shrink every time Celia sees him.
    “Very well, then.” Father Flannery steps away from the table, pushes in his chair and tips his hat. “It seems we’ve no need to discuss this matter again.” He turns toward Ruth. “I’d like to see you in church tomorrow.”
    “She hasn’t been in church, Father,” Arthur says, “because Ray beat her face to a pulp.”
    Father Flannery ignores Arthur. “Tomorrow, then. You’re looking well, Ruth, quite well. Doesn’t she look pretty with her new hair, Eve?”
    “I’m Evie, Father.”

Chapter 10
    Leaning against the kitchen sink, her arms crossed, Celia taps her lavender slipper. Reesa struggles out of her chair and shuffles after Father Flannery. Facing Celia on the opposite side of the kitchen, Arthur stands, his arms also crossed. He lowers his head, staring at her from under the hood of his brow, and as his mother passes, he steps aside to make room without ever taking his eyes off Celia. Daniel and Ian have