Dollenganger 06 My Sweet Audrina (24 page)

"I will love Arden forever!" I cried fervently, fully believing this was the truth. Arden smiled at me lovingly. "I can echo that," he said softly. "All my life will be devoted to making you happy."
Nervously I glanced from Sylvia, who started to scream when Billie tried to touch her, to Billie, then Arden. I couldn't leave my sister with Billie, whom she seemed to fear and dislike. I'd promised Papa a long time ago that I'd take care of Sylvia; she was my responsibility, and I couldn't leave her.
My heart seemed to stop as I waited for Arden's response after I told him Sylvia had to go with us. He blanched, then quietly agreed.
Perhaps Billie was right to look worried as she waved goodbye.
I Take Thee, Arden
.
In a small town in North Carolina, where the law permitted couples to be married on the same day they took out a marriage license, Arden and I were wedded by a fat, balding justice of the peace, while his plain-looking, skinny wife played atrocious wedding music on a worn-out old organ. When the brief ceremony was over, she sang (without our request) "I Love You Truly."
Sylvia perched restlessly on what looked like a bridge chair, swinging her feet as she played with the crystal prisms and babbled incessantly to herself, as if suddenly she'd found her voice and was going to use it, even if she couldn't say meaningful words--or was she trying to sing? It was difficult to concentrate on our vows.
"In a few years we'll do it all over again in the proper way," promised Arden as we headed south toward a famous beach and a fine hotel. "You look so pretty in that violet suit. It matches your eyes. You have such wonderful eyes, so deep. I wonder if ever in a million years I will have time to find out all your secrets."
Uneasily I fidgeted. "I have no secrets."
By nightfall we were registered in the hotel. Soon we were in the dining room, where all the guests stared at Sylvia shoving food into her wide-open mouth without benefit of cutlery. "I've been working on that, too," I said with apology to Arden. "Sooner or later she'll catch on." He smiled and said that we'd both teach Sylvia how to be the perfect lady.
I was glad dinner took a long time. Only too soon would come the time I dreaded most.
Try as I would, that dark, fugitive memory of the wet woodsy day kept flashing before my eyes. Sex had killed the First Audrina, and it was my wedding night. Arden wouldn't hurt me, I said again to reassure myself. It wouldn't be awful with him. The pain and the terror and the ugliness all belonged to that crazy rocking chair dream of the First Audrina; it didn't belong in my life with a wedding certificate in my purse.
Arden was wonderfully considerate, tolerant of Sylvia as he simultaneously tried to be romantic with me--a nearly impossible task. I felt sorry for him as
he
tried so hard.
He'd rented a double suite of rooms with a connecting door so Sylvia could have her own bathroom, and in her bathroom I slowly, painstakingly did what I had to. When I tucked her into the wide bed I gave her strict orders to stay in bed--or else. The last thing I did was put half a glass of water on the nightstand. "Drink as little as possible so you won't have an accident during the night." I kissed her and reluctantly withdrew when she drifted into sleep, still clutching the crystal prisms.
In the bedroom Arden and I were to share, he paced the floor impatiently while I took an hour-long tub bath and shampooed my hair. Next I rolled it on curlers, used my hair dryer, creamed my face, and while my hair finished drying, I removed my nail polish and did my nails all over again, my toenails, too. Now that my hair was thoroughly dry, I had to wait for my nails to dry as well. When they seemed solid enough, I carefully took out the curlers and brushed the tight curls into loose, soft waves. I sprayed on cologne and puffed on talcum and finally dropped a fancy nightgown down over my head. Stupid, stupid, I was calling myself for being afraid to go to my husband.
I tugged at the revealing nightgown Billie had given me on my last birthday, wishing it weren't so transparent, though I guessed she'd given it to me for just this reason. It had a matching peignoir of violet, with creamy lace that wasn't placed to conceal anything. When I'd finished every last detail I could think of, I sat on the edge of the bathtub and just stared at the closed door, dreading to open it and go through.
I kept seeing Momma as I sat there, so much like I looked, only older. I thought of Papa and the belt he used for a whip. I envisioned again all that had happened to the First Audrina that awful day in the rain when she'd been found dead under a golden raintree. A child raped, it wasn't fair or right. I began to tremble, and beads of sweat came to dampen my armpits despite the deodorant I wore. I saw Vera rolling about on the floor with Lamar Rensdale, and the violent way he'd taken her, like a rutting animal. I couldn't go through with it. I didn't want to go through with it.
Standing, I began to unfasten my peignoir I couldn't let him see me in this bit of nothing.
"Audrina," called Arden from the other side of the locked bathroom door, his voice beginning to sound angry, "what's taking you so long? You've been in there for hours."
"Give me five more minutes," I answered nervously. Already I'd promised him that two times before. I fiddled with my hair, the peignoir, taking it off, thinking about pulling on my panties or getting fully dressed again. I began to chew on my
fingernails, a habit long ago abandoned. I told myself again that Arden had known me since I was seven, seen me in playclothes, in a bathing suit, in all sorts of conditions. . . but he'd never seen me in a see-through nightie just before intimate relations. Yet he was my husband now. Why did I have to be so worried? I wouldn't end up dead under a golden raintree, or on the floor, nor would he use his belt . . would he?
"One more minute," reminded Arden. "I'm holding you to your time limit . . and no more excuses." His tone was so grim it scared me. He'd never sounded so harsh before. Oh, it was just like I'd heard Aunt Mercy Marie, Aunt Ellsbeth and my momma say: You never knew a man until you married him.
"I'm watching the second hand," he informed me. "You've got thirty seconds now. If you're not out when you promised, I'm coming in. Even if I have to kick down that door,
I'm coming in!"
I shrank back against the wall, my heart pounding as I panicked. I took a step closer to the door, said a quick prayer for the soul of my aunt and asked her forgiveness for not attending her funeral.
"Time's up!" he yelled. "Stand back--I'm coming through."
He'd hurt himself if he backed up and ran forward to slam his shoulder through the door. He kicked the door twice, but it didn't budge. I heard him swear and guessed he was going to throw himself against the door next. Hurriedly I turned the lock and threw open the door.
It was his misfortune to hurl himself forward at the very second I swung the door inward. He slammed hard against the tile wall opposite the door. He crashed against it, then slid to the floor and lay there looking stunned and in terrible pain.
Rushing forward, I knelt to hover above him. "Oh, Arden, I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't know you'd really try to break down the door."
To my surprise, he laughed and grabbed for me. He began to smother me with kisses. His words came between them. "I've heard that brides can get stage fright, but Audrina, I thought you loved me." More kisses on my face, neck, the swell of my breasts. "It's not as if we just met."
Jerking away, I rose to my feet. Painfully he stood, too, before he leaned over and felt for broken bones. "I guess nothing is permanently damaged," he said with a good-natured grin. Tenderly he took me in his arms and gazed deeply into my eyes. "You don't have to look so scared. All this is kinda funny in a way, like a farce, but I don't want our wedding night to be a farce. I love you, Audrina. We'll take it easy, go slow, and you'll be surprised at how naturally things come about." Lightly he kissed me with his parted lips. "Your hair looked great before, you didn't have to wash it again. Yet, I've never seen you look so beautiful . . . and even if you do look terrified, you take my breath away." Again he kissed me, like
he
didn't want to stop. "I'll be finished in a flash," he said, reluctantly parting and entering the bathroom.
He didn't have to tell me that. I'd known all along he'd be finished in a "flash."
I'd have to endure this night, and all the nights to come if I was to escape Papa and find the physical rapport
every
woman was supposed to enjoy with the man she truly loved.
Pulling off the peignoir that Arden hadn't even noticed, I slipped between the sheets of that huge bed. Hardly had I arranged myself comfortably when Arden was opening the bathroom door, finished with his shower and what little else a man did to get ready for bed.
Quickly he came to the bed, silhouetted briefly before the golden light behind him. To my horror, he wore nothing but a damp bath towel swathed about his slim hips. Whatever dim light there was in the hotel room seemed to concentrate on his damp, shiny skin, forcing me to take notice of his maleness even when I didn't want to think about it. I just wanted this night over and done with as quickly as possible. I could have screamed from the casual way he took off that towel and tossed it aside. It missed the chair ai in he aimed for and slid to the floor.
Oh, it was already starting, all the sloppy things neat men did after they had a wife to pick up after them. "You forgot to turn off the bathroom light."
"Because you turned off all the lights in here," he said easily, "and I like some light. I could open the draperies inside, and let in the moonlight." The scent of toothpaste was on his breath. He lingered by the bed, as if wanting me to look him over in the pale rosy night light he turned on.
"Darling, look at me. Don't keep your head turned. I've waited for this night for years and years. I've gone through all sorts of trouble to make my body muscular and attractive, and not once have you ever said anything to say that you noticed. Do you ever notice anything about me except my face?"
I swallowed. "Yes, of course I've noticed."
Smiling, he put one knee on the bed. Alarmed at what I saw briefly before my eyes took flight again, I drew into a tighter knot inside and inched farther away on the bed. "Audrina, you're shivering. It's not cold in here. Don't be frightened. We love each other. I've kissed you, embraced you, and a few times I've dared a bit more and was quickly reprimanded. There's more to making love than all that combined?' His low voice sounded worried. "You do know what this is all about, I hope . . . ?"
Yes, I knew. Perhaps too much. I stared toward the windows, sickeningly terrified. The faint and distant sound of thunder filtered into our room. With the approaching electrical storm came a new flood of terror, bringing with it visions of the dark woods overhung with leaden skies. Like it had been in the First Audrina's room, I felt the ominous threat of what lay ahead.
Rain, oh, please, God, don't let it rain tonight!
Fraction by fraction
he
moved closer. I could sense him in every pore. I breathed his special male aroma, felt his nakedness, felt my own vulnerability beneath my nothing nightgown. My skin seemed to wake up and turn into a zillion antennae, each almost invisible hair quivering, warning me to do something and do it quickly. Back, back, I was going back to the rocking chair when it had frightened me, before I learned how to escape the horror of the woods. I felt myself rocking, heard a childish voice singing, saw the spiders spinning, saw the eyes of the stuffed animals glinting, heard the floorboards squeaking.
The wind was blowing and soon the lightning would flash and the thunder would crash.
Arden said something sweet. Why couldn't I hear clearly? "I love you," I heard him say again, his voice coming to me as if through a dream. My heart thudded so loudly that I hardly heard him above the noise of all that was happening inside of me.
Very close now, Arden turned on his side and tentatively put out his hand to lightly touch my upper arm. His fingertips brushed the left side of my breast. Don't, don't, I wanted to yell. I lay there speechless with fright, my eyes so wide they began to ache. My mouth became very dry.
He cleared his throat and moved so his flesh was against mine, hot flesh, bristly with hair. His lips, even hotter and moist, brushed over mine. I shrank into the pillow, trying to choke back a scream. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Have you stopped loving me already, Audrina?"
An excuse came to me from one hole in my memory. Momma saying to Papa she was too tired. "I'm just so tired, Arden. It's been a long day. My aunt died this morning. Why can't you just hold me in your arms tonight and tell me you love me over and over again, and then, perhaps, I won't feel so ashamed."
"There's nothing to be ashamed of," he said lightly, though I sensed his tenseness. "You're feeling like lots of brides feel, so I've been told. Since you're my first, and I hope my last, I can't speak from experience."
I wanted to ask him if I was the first girl he'd taken to bed, but I was afraid he'd say no. I wanted him to be just as inexperienced as I was; then, contrarily, I wanted him to know exactly what to do to make me like what I was sure I would hate. If I really knew he'd waited to have sex with me first, that would prove he loved me enough.
His fingers lightly trailed a pattern up and down my arm as he leaned above me, forcing me to close my eyes. Hadn't I heard my own mother say that boys were always more ready than girls for sex? Joking with my aunt at the time, with Aunt Mercy Marie, too, as she sat smiling vacuously on the piano.
Now his hands dared more, venturing to fondle my breasts before his fingers arrowed in more specifically. They began to circle round and round my nipples, which were only lightly covered by the thin fabric. I shivered, cringed away and wearily asked, "Have you ever had sex before?"
"Did you have to ask that at a time like this?" "Is it the wrong thing to ask?"
His sigh sounded exasperated. "There are differences between men and women, some say. Maybe that's true, and maybe it's not. A woman can live out her life happily without sex, so I've heard said, but a man has a buildup of sperm that has to be released in one way or another. The most pleasurable way is with the woman he loves. Loving is sharing, Audrina. Sharing mutual pleasure, not pain, and not shame, either."