Addy's Redemption: A Novel. Juliana Ormsby
Lionel began courting Addy, frequently delighting the aunts with candy or flowers. Addy was rarely alone with him, but a few times when he came for dinner, and the aunts had gone upstairs to bed, he held her hand, put his arm around her shoulders, and kissed her. Although Lionel was not bad looking and had a muscular build, Addy wasn’t particularly attracted to him. Admittedly, when she received these first kisses, Addy felt unfamiliar tingling in the area of her body where she received monthly visits from Mr. Red.
She had been only ten when she panicked to see blood in her panties. Embarrassed by having to speak about the subject, her aunts hastily reported that from then on, Mr. Red would visit her every 28 days. While Hazel rushed to the drugstore to buy a sanitary belt and napkins, Sophia forewarned Addy that with Mr. Red arriving every month, she would be able to have children. Could this be the reason why girls, especially those who had begun menstruation, could not be alone with boys? While Addy made this connection, she was still unaware of what a man and woman had to do to make a baby.
After seven months of courting her, Lionel presented Addy with a small diamond engagement ring. Although in her heart of hearts Addy knew Lionel was not the kind of man she had always dreamed of marrying, what else could she do? When Lionel first kissed Addy, it felt to her that she had wet her pants. Burning up inside, face flushed, mouth salivating profusely, Addy just closed her eyes and accepted the kisses. Lionel himself didn’t awaken these new sensations; the response arose automatically. It could have been any man kissing her. In fact, Lionel often repulsed her, particularly when he started ranting about his distaste for non-Catholics. He was a boorish, unsophisticated know-it-all who never questioned the teachings of the Catholic Church. Addy wondered if he had read any books by the literary masters or listened to classical music. She, on the other hand, kept a secret diary of poetry and nourished her heart with stories of true love, like that of Elizabeth and Robert Barrett-Browning. She knew that romance like theirs came along only rarely, and Addy was, after all, an unlucky girl. Feeling her options in life were altogether limited, she floated along blindly as the aunts prepared a small bridal shower in anticipation of Addy’s new life as a homemaker. Lionel had enough money to plan a rather lavish wedding at the elegant Westport Inn. In spite of the shallowness of his character, he did know how to put on the dog to impress people.
When the day of her wedding arrived, Addy was literally sleepwalking. Surely, this couldn’t be happening. At any moment, Mommy and Daddy would swoop down from Heaven, whisking her away with them. From the books and papers they had left behind, Addy knew her parents were erudite, polished people. If they had lived, they would certainly chide her for abandoning her dreams and allowing the aunts to force her into settling for Lionel as a spouse. After all, he was not of her caliber.
Remarkably, Lionel’s eyes shone with pride as his brother, Father Roberge, escorted Addy the virgin bride, down the long aisle of St. Michael’s Cathedral. This was, in fact, the first time Lionel ever noticed how truly beautiful Addy was. She had always dressed modestly, wore no make-up, and was awkward and shy. With her long chestnut hair swept sophisticatedly into a French braid, Addy wore a crown of flowers fashioned from dainty seed pearls and crystal beads with a short veil covering her face. The same glistening crystals and pearls adorned the entire top of Addy’s wedding dress. Cascading from the pointed bodice were layers and layers of chiffon dotted with the same crystals and pearls. The billowing skirt enveloped Addy’s petite frame. Had Lionel ever noticed that Addy’s figure was perfectly proportioned 34-24-34? In one of her long, graceful glove-covered arms, Addy cradled a Bernhardt bouquet of calla lilies. For the first and only time in her life, Addy felt like a princess; a prima-ballerina; a prom queen. She blushed to think that she might be, after all, a pretty girl.
As Addy approached the altar, a whisper of awe brushed over the crowd. Lionel could hardly wait until the priest finished the Mass so he could lift the veil and own all that this culminating act symbolized to a man like him. As Lionel lifted the veil, Addy’s large green eyes widened with fear and sudden revelation. She now belonged to Lionel for better or worse, and after the wedding, she would officially be his wife and have to share a bed with him. She received a beautiful long lace nightgown and peignoir set for her shower. It finally dawned on her what these fancy bedroom clothes meant.
Lionel had chosen filet mignon for the wedding reception menu. This may be the last time Lionel would splurge on such an expensive meal. As Addy tried to swallow a small bite of steak, she felt as if her throat was closing. The idea of a honeymoon with Lionel frightened Addy to death. Perhaps Lionel provided this swanky wedding as payment for the right to ravish her barbarically that night and forever more. Sophia and Hazel, eyes dewy with tears of joy, had absolutely no clue.
* * * * *
“That’s my Addy-girl.” Lionel always said that in front of company and gave her a pretentious peck on the cheek. Addison cringed inside from his touch. Of course, that did not mean she had stopped being available for sex. She dared not refuse him. When he was ready for her, he would pinch her bottom hard, sadistically twisting the skin, and she’d awaken, legs spread, ready to receive his nasty member. Lord knows he probably had other women when he was on his business trips, and maybe even closer to home. Addy hoped he would never give her syphilis. She had read that the disease could make a person blind, crippled, and always led to an early demise.
Once she risked bringing up the topic of using rubbers, even though it is a sin for Catholics to practice birth control. Lionel, of course, turned things around to make her look as if she was the offending party.
“How do you know about safes? Don’t you trust me? You think I’ve been unfaithful? You call yourself a CATHOLIC? You know I live by the seventh commandment, in case you forgot it, ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery’. How dare you question my faithfulness? Maybe YOU are the one who’s running around. I see how you look at the lawn boy. You lust after him; I know it. I’ll bet my last nickel that you’ve already fucked him. How do I know what you do all day when I’m at the office working hard to support your cheating ass? You whore! Now I know why you know about rubbers.”
His anger escalated out of control. Eyes narrowed; lips clenched; body grew taut.
Oh please no, thought Addy desperately as she witnessed Lionel’s all too familiar demonic transformation. Lionel’s voice became louder and louder; the insults more offensive and lewd. Then he smacked her hard across the face. The blow left an angry red welt on her right cheek, and Addy whimpered like an injured puppy. As Lionel began to calm down, he cradled her in his arms, tenderly kissing her bruised cheek. Addy loathed him and the ugly scenario that had taken place countless times over the years. She knew well what would come next. He would take her by the hand, lead her to their bedroom, lift her skirt, unzip his fly, and fuck her. Sometimes he would force his penis up her anus, then immediately after, push it into her vagina, then her anus again, rhythmically alternating between her two openings.
Addy suffered repeated urinary tract and bladder infections. Although the urologist may have suspected why she ended up in his office so frequently, he was always tactful about it. He advised her to use a squeeze bottle filled with a sterile washing solution every time she urinated. In spite of her fastidiousness, the infections continued. The urologist finally prescribed long-term, low-dose antibiotics. She hated taking the medicine because she developed yeast infections and a raw stomach as side effects, but those problems were better than being in pain every time she peed.
It had been almost twenty-five years since Lionel first lifted the veil. Addy knew she was too intelligent and sane to put up with the rapes and beatings, yet she had no way to escape. It was like her hopeless dream of having her own bakery. The dreams of unlucky girls never come true. Such unfortunate souls do not have the confidence or spunk necessary to change their lives.
A few magazines were brave enough to publish articles about wife beating. Addy could identify with the women criticized for staying in abusive relationships. Her spirit had died long ago, so what did it matter if her shell was battered? Lionel had also indirectly threatened her life. After he beat her then cuddled her, he would whisper, “Now Addy-girl would never think of leaving her daddy, would she? She knows what happens to naughty little wives who try to run away, doesn’t she? There’s nowhere for them to hide. You know it’s a