THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY
PART VIII
PG-13 for references to 7th Heaven
(by the way, you all know I don't own this show, right?)
based on a true story
Stiffness in her neck, tingling in her arms, a massive headache.
It was clear.
Ruthie was injured.
She knew it, but she was trying to hide it.
She just couldn't miss Annie versus Mary.
Granted, she knew that she would have to go to the hospital eventually. Just... after the show.
Mary Camden woke up, alarmed.
How had she managed to fall asleep?
Who knew how many people had called while she was off in dreamland...
And what about Charles?
Mary looked up, over her shoulder. Charles was sitting there, staring at her blankly. Well, at least she didn't have to worry about him.
She did, however, have to worry about Carlos. Her husband was still in jail, to the best of her knowledge, and she had no idea whether or not Lucy had gone to bail him out or not.
Her life was in flux, as it always had been. All Mary could hope for was some sort of security. Some sort of comfort. Mary's life had been so unpredictable—she never knew what would happen next, or where she would be in a month's time.
She'd been a vandal, a firefighter, a flight attendant, a stay at 'home' mom... she'd been 'serious' with more men than she could remember... of course, this was all in the past. But the constant instability in her life was not.
Now, she found herself once again with no idea of where her life would go. She doubted her husband's guilt, yet she knew the possibility was there that he had indeed exposed himself. And if he was found guilty, what then? Would she leave him?
She was jolted from her thoughts by the doorbell.
Mary silently prayed that Carlos had come home.
No such luck.
It was her mother. And her sister. Both, looking rather ticked off.
"Mom?"
"Hello, Mary. How are things?"
"Things are... er... fine."
"Really? Hmm."
"What are you doing here?"
"Can't I visit my own daughter?"
"Yes, of course, but—"
"Are you going to let us in?"
"Uh, sure."
Mary stepped aside for her relatives. Ruthie shot Mary a glare, headache and all.
"How's Charles?" Annie asked.
"He's—"
"How's Carlos doing?"
"Carlos? He's, uh—he's just fine. He's at work right now, so—"
"I see."
Mary had a bad feeling. Granted, she had a bad feeling whenever Annie was nearby. But deep down, Mary just knew that her mother knew.
"Carlos, Carlos. Lucy told me something very interesting about Carlos, Mary."
Mary was instantly sick.
"When were you going to tell me, Mary? I think I have a right to know if my son-in-law is in jail."
"Mom, I'm—"
"I'm not done yet, Mary. I, out of the kindness of my heart, let you move into this house. I didn't have to do that. I'm letting you stay in this house virtually for free. I'm helping you with the utilities. I'm helping you with the rent. And you don't even bother to tell me that my son-in-law is in prison."
"I couldn't tell you, I—"
"I have put up with a lot from you, Mary Camden. I had to put up with you destroying public property. I—"
"That was years ago—I was in high school! I was a teenager—"
"Do you know how much pain it caused me to have to send you away?"
"You? Your pain? How do you think it felt for me to be... exiled from my family?"
"Don't raise your voice at me, Mary."
Mary desperately wanted to say 'I'm an adult! I can raise my voice at you if I want!'
However, the idea of she and her son being homeless didn't appeal to Mary very much.
"I'm going to make this very simple for you to understand, Mary. I do not want a criminal living in my household."
"He's not a criminal! He's my husband!"
"Is he in jail?"
"Yes, but—"
"He's a criminal, Mary." Annie sighed. "Why could you have been like the rest of them? Lucy got married to a wonderful man, who loves her more than he loves anyone else in the world."
If not for a blinding headache, Ruthie would have laughed. Annie continued on.
"Matt is married and in medical school. Meanwhile, you never made anything of yourself, Mary Camden. And whether or not you'll ever make anything of yourself is subject to debate."
Mary desperately wanted to curse her mother out. To slap her in the face. To do something—anything—forcefully enough to tell Annie Camden that she wouldn't stand for the insults any longer.
But Mary was just too emotionally drained. Too... dead. The only thing she could do was cry.
Annie embraced her daughter.
"It's okay, Mary. I still love you."
Charles, meanwhile, was disturbed by all of this. He stood, watching his mother being enveloped by a larger woman, whom he had seen only once in his life.
Annie looked over Mary's shoulder and saw that Charles was not at all liking what he saw.
"Ruthie, go take Charles to the other room."
Ruthie nodded, grimacing from the stiffness in her neck. The sixteen-year- old took her nephew into another room—still listening for any action between her mother and sister.
Meanwhile, Annie broke her embrace from Mary.
"I know things must be tough for you. But you have to understand. Carlos cannot stay here anymore."
"I'm his wife. He's Charles' father. I'm not going to just leave him."
Annie took a deep breath. "Okay. We'll talk when you're calmer, and we'll arrange what we'll do. Maybe we can have Carlos stay in an apartment in the city, and you can visit him every now and then—"
"I'm not going to have my husband move into some apartment! He's my husband! My husband, mom—"
"Like I said, we'll talk when you're more calm. I'm going to go now, and tomorrow, we'll all discuss what will be done. Okay? You, your father and I."
Annie called Ruthie—who had begun to suffer from dizziness—and the two of them left. Mary, meanwhile, was left a virtual mess. Everything was caving in on her. She had to deal with her mother, her husband's arrest, poverty—she wished desperately for an easy way out.
She wondered if she would just take her son and leave. Granted, she had no idea where she would go, but maybe if she just left, somehow things would get better.
The phone. An unpleasant sound for Mary's ears.
Mary picked up the phone, hoping that it was Carlos. No such luck. It was Lucy.
"Mary?"
At the sound of Lucy's voice, Mary became incensed.
"Why? Why did you tell mom? I asked you to—I told you not to! Why would you do something like that?"
"I didn't! I—"
"You didn't? Then how come mother just came here, calling my husband a criminal?"
"I don't know—I didn't tell her, I swear! I didn't!"
"I just don't understand. I mean, I had a feeling that you might do something like this, but I just didn't think you would... I just didn't think you would."
"But I didn't! I swear to God, I didn't. I don't know how mom would have—"
Mary hung up.
She had no time to hear Lucy's lies.
Instead, she grabbed her son, and held him close to her chest. It was almost as if he was comforting her.
In fact, that was exactly what it was.