the worst possible way, and still blamed herself eighteen years later. She had carried that burden and her secret for all these years. It had cost her eighteen years of her life as a woman, and changed the course of her life.
For the first time, Melissa didn’t want to see Norm that night. She texted him and told him she was sick. She said she had a headache and the flu and would call him in the morning. She thought of her own foolishness too, and how disgusting it had been. She hadn’t let herself think of it in years, but Hattie’s story brought it all back. In her own way, in her youth and stupidity, she’d been a victim too, of the manipulations of someone older and more clever than she was. She would have gotten the contract anyway, because her books were good, but she didn’t know that then, so she had sold her soul to the devil. She remembered perfectly now how dirty she’d felt afterward, and swore she wouldn’t do anything like that ever again, and never had. He hadn’t contacted her again and had probably moved on to his next victim.
* * *
—
Norm showed up at her door the next morning, looking worried. He had a thermos of freshly squeezed orange juice, blueberry muffins he’d made himself, a jar of homemade soup, and the Sunday paper. He offered to make her scrambled eggs and she didn’t have the heart to turn him away. She looked rough enough to be convincing about her illness. She had been awake for most of the night, and cried every time she thought about what her sister had said. How could she ever make it up to her? She remembered too how furious she had been at Hattie wanting to become a nun, so she’d had to deal with Melissa’s anger and disapproval on top of everything else. All she wanted now was for Hattie to get even with Sam Steinberg and join his other accusers. The list was long in his case, and the charges would stick. No one was rising to his defense. He was a well-known slime bag among his peers in L.A.
“Did your sister come up yesterday?” Norm asked her. There was something about the look on Melissa’s face that seemed wrong to him. She looked sick, but she didn’t have the flu. Something else was troubling her, but he didn’t want to press her and upset her. Instead, he tucked her into bed, and made chicken soup for her to eat later. Then he climbed into bed with her, put an arm around her, and held her close. He didn’t try to make love to her. He could see she wasn’t in the mood. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked her after they’d lain there for a long time. Melissa thought about it before she answered.
“I don’t think so.” She didn’t want to violate Hattie’s confidence, but she trusted him. “Hattie was the victim of one of the men on the Hollywood list,” she confided to him. “It’s taken her eighteen years to tell me. It’s a terrible story. She was trying to be an actress then, and he was a big producer.” He could guess the rest. She didn’t have to tell him, and he didn’t ask. “I want her to go to the police, and add her story to the others. She doesn’t want to.”
“It has to be her decision,” he said wisely, and Melissa knew he was right. “The others will bring him to justice, if she doesn’t.”
They lay there quietly for a long time, and he brought her the soup at lunchtime. Afterward, she put on some clothes and they went for a walk, without talking. She felt better when they got home. He left a little while later. He knew she wanted to be alone. He was the right man at the right time, and they understood each other. She wouldn’t have appreciated him a few years earlier, but she did now.
* * *
—
Hattie called her that night after she’d talked to Mother Elizabeth. She had listened quietly and explained to Hattie that some people didn’t find their vocation until after they entered the convent, which had been the case for her. “You would never have stayed all this time if you didn’t have a vocation. What do you want to do about this man?”
“I don’t know,” Hattie said, feeling lost. “Melissa thinks