Sleeping Beauty by Judith Michael

“The little bitch. What the hell’s wrong with her? We’re all celebrating her—”
    â€œVince?” William repeated, more loudly.
    â€œChrist,” said Fred Jax, “what a stupid—”
    â€œBe quiet!” roared Ethan. He leaned forward in his chair at the head of the table and stared at Anne, sitting two places away, hunched over, staring at her plate. “Is this true?”
    Still looking down, she nodded. She was terrified. And then she began to cry.
    â€œIt’s a damned lie,” Vince said again. His voice rose as he turned to Ethan. “She’s a liar! She always has been.”
    â€œDon’t call her that!” Charles shouted.
    â€œYou can’t trust her,” Vince went on, “you know you can’t. She’s a wild kid, a delinquent—”
    Gail, sitting beside Anne, started to cry, her voice a loud wail beside her sister’s wrenching sobs.
    â€œOh, no,” said Nina. “Look what you’ve done.” She took Gail on her lap. “It’s all right, sweetheart, don’t worry; it’ll be all right.”
    â€œBe quiet!” Ethan roared again at Vince. “If you can’t, you’ll have to leave.”
    â€œLeave? For Christ’s sake, she’s accusing me of rape!”
    â€œHe has to stay, Dad,” said William. “He has to be able to defend himself. You can’t shut him up.”
    â€œAnne, talk to us!” Charles cried.
    â€œDefend himself?” quavered Marian. “How? What could he say? Unless . . .” She peered at Anne. “Are you very sure, Anne? It’s such a terrible thing to accuse someone of, especially your uncle, who loves—” She bit off the word. “You might . . . do you think you might have dreamed it? Sometimes our dreams seem so real—”
    Still crying, without looking up, Anne shook her head vehemently.
    â€œVince isn’t that stupid,” said Fred Jax ruminatively. “At least I never thought so. If it’s true . . .” He looked at Vince speculatively, as if rethinking their relative power positions in the family and the company.
    â€œI don’t defend myself against lies,” Vince rasped. “She’s a child trying to get attention; she never grew up. Look at her: she never combs her hair, she’s always dirty, she runs around in the forest like an animal, she stays cooped up in her room instead of being with the family like the rest of us, she swears like a truck driver, she talks back . . .” He raised his voice above the other voices clamoring against his. “She’s a goddam liar! We all know it! How can you listen to her? She’s uncontrollable, she’s a—she’s a—”
    â€œShe imagined it,” Rita broke in when Vince faltered. Everyone stopped talking and looked at her in surprise. Rita almost never spoke at family dinners. “It’s not hard to figure; she’s just a kid and nobody likes her much . . . Iguess nobody does ’cause she never goes to other girls’ houses or brings them back here, does she? I mean, I never hear of her doing it. And Marian’s always talking about how come she doesn’t bring friends home after school. And I guess she doesn’t date, either, does she? Seems like she’s a real loner and she’s probably been dying to have somebody give her the time of day, and she latches onto Vince, who’s so handsome he’s every girl’s dream. She never looks at him, straight at him, you know? She runs off if he comes close and she won’t look at him; it’s like she’s scared to death she’ll blab something or her face will give her away. I guess maybe she finally tried to get him to say something nice to her and he probably just ignored her—he doesn’t have the time of day for kids, you know, not even his own, usually—and it