Secrets

1.

Abby put one coffee cup in front of Melinda as she sipped on her own. The children were sitting in a circle playing with the toy ship from their Noah and the flood playset. "You're fidgeting. What's got you worried?"

"I'm sorry," said Melinda as she pulled one of her sleeves down further over her wrist. "It's just that he might find out what I'm going to do. Please, don't tell anyone."

"You know that he can't see your ballot, right? It's a secret," replied Abby.

"Are you sure that he won't know who I voted for?" Melinda continued to play with her sleeve.

"As long as you don't give it away." Abby pointed at Melinda's arm. "Why are you so worried? He doesn't get to see your ballot."

"He's going to try," Melinda said, dropping her eyes and running her hand over her wrist.

Abby sighed. "What did he do this time?" She pointed at Melinda's forearm.

"Oh, nothing."

"Melinda, show me your arm," Abby said gently.

Melinda looked up at her friend and, seeing the concern in Abby's eyes, held out her arm. "He, he loves me. I deserved it. I didn't listen to him..."

Abby pulled up the long sleeve that Melinda was wearing. She saw the angry red burn mark. "Oh hon, you need to get that looked at."

"It's nothing, really." Melinda took her sleeve from her friend's hand and covered the wound. "I'll be fine."

"Honey, go get it checked," Abby said kindly.

"But he gets so upset if I go without permission. And they get so suspicious," Melinda said. She looked down at the floor and placed her hand over her arm. "He, he let me put ice on it. It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Oh, honey," Abby put her arm around her friend. "Let's go to the urgent care now..."

Melinda immediately stood up. "Oh, uh, no, thanks." She grabbed her purse off the coffee table, nearly knocking her full cup over. "Kids, come on, we have to go."

"Aw, mom, why?" said her son, Joshua.

"Mom, we were just getting to the good part," complained Mary. "Can't we stay just a little longer?"

"No, honey, we need to head home now," said Melinda.

Abby stood up and reached for her friend, but caught herself. "Melinda, you don't need to go," she said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean... Please, at least let's finish our coffee." She gestured towards the table.

"No, no, it's fine," Melinda said, then lowered her voice. "I'll be okay." She walked over to her children and took them each by the hand. "I'll see you tomorrow, Abby." Melinda sighed. "And, please don't say anything."

"You know I won't," said Abby. "Take care of yourself."

"You too," Melinda said, walking out the door with her kids in tow.

2.

The church was mostly full when Melinda arrived with her family on Sunday. Mark smiled and waved at Abby and her husband, but had to slide in closer to the back, the only bench with enough seating for everyone. Melinda fidgeted with both sleeves as she sat. Abby, looking over her shoulder, made a questioning gesture at her friend. Melinda just shook her head. Abby shrugged and faced forward.

The service started with a prayer, and then the pastor started to talk about the election. "Remember, everyone, you know who you have to vote for, who is the godly candidate. We can't let demons take over this country! And husbands, make sure your wives vote correctly. God has given me visions that some women are being tempted by the Devil, so make sure to keep them in line and on the godly path!"

Melinda huddled into herself, covering her forearms, and started picking at the cuffs of her long sleeves. Mark turned to her, adjusting his red button down shirt that almost exactly matched the pastor's. He furrowed his brow, staring hard at her. Melinda's eyes showed her fear as she shifted in her seat. She turned her attention back to the pastor. He droned on about biblical living, but Melinda didn't really listen. She kept thinking that Mark knew how she wanted to vote, that he would be angry and lose his temper. Her eyes flicked over to him, but if he noticed that she wasn't paying attention...

She concentrated on the pastor. She hoped Mark wouldn't grill her too hard on the sermon today once they were home.

3.

Melinda changed her dress before Mark came home. The stains would embarrass him while they were waiting in line to vote. She bundled herself and the children up against the cold of waiting in line, then waited nervously on her seat for him to arrive. He'd mentioned he was going to hurry to make sure they were able to make it. She kept going back and forth over how she would vote.

The kids hardly touched the snacks she made. When Mark finally walked in through the front door, he asked, "What's this?" He gestured at the food. "We've got to go!"

Melinda stood quickly, looking at the two children while they rose. She pulled them into her, saying, "We're ready, Mark."

"Wasting food?" He snorted. "We'll deal with that when we get home. No time now." He glared at his wife. "Let's go." He guided everyone out and to the beat up red Accord that Mark had had since high school. While Melinda buckled the kids in, Mark impatiently tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "We're going to be late," he snapped as she climbed into the passenger side. He started the car and backed out of the driveway without waiting for her to buckle in.

As a family, they slid into line at the polling location. It was long, stretching back around the block. As they slowly moved forward, Melinda kept her face as neutral as she could. Each step brought her closer to something that she wasn't supposed to do, that went against everything they stood for. Well, that Mark stood for. It burned at her, but she knew what she was going to do was right.

When they reached the table with the large books of registered voters, Mark handed over his driver's license and Melinda handed over her state ID. The kindly old woman began flipping through the book, whispering to herself, "Headman, Headman," until she found the correct lines. "Ah, here we are. Please sign."

Mark and Melinda both signed their names and took the offered ballots and privacy sleeves. Melinda sat the children in chairs just past the booths to wait, then headed back to an empty one. Mark waited for her, grabbing her arm tightly as she walked by. "You know how to vote," he said menacingly.

She smiled, somehow maintaining her mask. "Yes, Mark." She entered the empty booth and started marking. She folded the ballot and put it in the sleeve. Stepping out, she hurried to the box and dropped it in. "Don't tell anyone," she whispered to herself.

Mark strode by her and dropped his ballot in. "You should've waited for me to check."

"I voted correctly," Melinda said, and went over to the children.