Obscuring Tears

Chapter Eight:

Consideration

You think you are alone

But you never really are

To those ugly thoughts

It's time to say au revoir

"Where are the boys?" Lucy asked casually, making room for Ruthie to sit between her and Simon.

"Probably in their room, I don't know. I'm not the one you should be asking," she retorted, glancing from Matt to Simon and back to her sister.

Lucy let the sarcasm go, for they had bigger fish to fry. It was time to straighten things out and for them all to be on the same page as they were several months ago. She patted the spot next to her on the sofa. "Come sit with us, Ruthie."

Ruthie continued to walk again, trying to brush off the odd coincidence that she had walked into a conversation about herself. "I only came out here for a drink. I'm going back to my room."

"I wasn't asking. Sit down," Lucy ordered, taking on an air of authority that should not be messed with.

Ruthie rolled her eyes and took the empty place. "Okay, I'm sitting. Now what would you like me to do?"

"Knock off with the sarcasm, Ruthie. We've already been cut off once, you aren't going to do it again," Matt said, assembling himself on the wooden coffee table across from his three siblings. "We want to help you."

"Oh, everyone is so considerate. Mom and Dad should have died years ago!" Ruthie yelled.

"Ruthie, come on!"

"No, Matt, you come on," Ruthie shrieked. "Seriously, where were you for the past few years? Where were any of you? You were all too busy to even think about your family. All you were worried about was school and your love lives. You could have helped me anytime, but did you?" She paused and looked into each of their guilty faces. "No."

"That isn't true," Lucy argued, her voice low. "I was here. I could have helped you if you needed me. But you never came to me. Not once."

"So this is all my fault. I chose not to get over Mom and Dad. Is that what you're saying?" Ruthie challenged.

"Not 'get over' them, but to accept what has happened and move on. None of us will ever forget, or stop loving, our parents." Lucy halted her words, afraid of what would happen if she said what she was going to say next. "Maybe it was easier for the rest of us to move on because we didn't tell Mom that we hated her."

"What?" Matt and Simon asked in unison, but neither sister paid them any attention.

"That isn't your problem," Ruthie spat, her eyes locked on Lucy.

"No, it's yours. You knew what you were doing and you took Mom's feelings for granted. Now you feel guilty because she's dead and you can never take back what you said. All you can do now is beg for God's forgiveness and let it go," Lucy explained.

"I don't feel guilty," Ruthie lobbied. "Who are you to say what I feel?"

"Drop the act, Ruthie. It wasn't twenty-four hours ago when you were on your knees in front of the fireplace crying because you couldn't bear to live with that album Mom gave you. That was guilt, and don't you even try to lie to me." Lucy was feeling angrier by the second. If they didn't get anywhere soon, she was definitely going lose her patience.

Matt reached out and placed his hands comfortingly on Ruthie's knees. Her attention suddenly snapped to him, but she didn't jerk away. "Ruthie, I've seen what guilt can do to people, and I've experienced it first-hand. Don't let it run your life any longer."

She laughed. "Guilt isn't running my life."

Simon grabbed Ruthie's arm, catching her off-guard, and pulled up her sleeve to reveal all her cuts and scabs. "Then why are you doing this? Is it a new thing that all the cool kids are trying out?"

"Let go of me!" Ruthie screamed, yanking her arm out of Simon's grasp.

"Is that all you are doing?" Matt asked. "Are you doing drugs of any kind? Have you thought of suicide? Don't think for a second that cutting yourself is okay."

"It's not like I can't control it," Ruthie said. "Guilt may be running my life, but I still have some say."

Matt scoffed. "No, you really don't. You can't control it. Every time something bad, or maybe nothing at all, happens to you, you're going to have these impulses that tell you that the blade is the only way to deal. You are not in control."

Ruthie was silent as Matt's words echoed through her mind. She wasn't in control, and as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Exactly right.

Lucy put a hand on Ruthie's shoulder. "Ruthie, you aren't alone. We all are going through the same thing you are. We can help each other get through this."

Suddenly Ruthie felt greatly fatigued, as if all she had cried for was weighing her down and instantly feeling like a burden. Nothing seemed important anymore, not even putting up this sour routine of feeling sorry for herself. Her parents, whom she loved with all of her heart, were gone and it didn't matter if she was hauled out of her despair; they were never coming back. She still couldn't see how her siblings could just move on with their lives. Tears formed behind her eyes, and soon she felt herself being pulled into Lucy's arms to be comforted.

"I don't think I can do that," Ruthie mumbled, allowing herself to be held. "I don't think I can move on."

There didn't seem to be any words that could assure her that she would. Lucy didn't think Ruthie would believe anything anyone said anyway because she was so far gone. The woman had heard these words before, the exact same ones, for she had said them before. There weren't any comforting words, but there was a story. There was Sarah.

"Ruthie, do you remember my very best friend, Sarah?" Lucy asked. When she felt Ruthie nod, she continued. "I loved her so much, I didn't think I would be able to go on either. I mean, we did everything together, and I couldn't imagine a life without her. Nothing was the same after she died, especially school. For a while, everything seemed as if it was accelerating with this tremendous speed, and I was slowing down, getting left behind.

"I didn't care, though. This girl that I had shared everything with, was gone, and I was alone. There was no one there to talk about boys with, no one there to pass notes in class to, no one to do homework with. Wilson West took me to a group therapy session, and that didn't really help at first, but soon I was open to talking about my feelings about Sarah, and I was able to catch up with my own life again. We will all get through this, Ruthie; I promise."

I'm scared of my future

I'm scared of my past

Where will I end up?

And how long will I last?

Matt walked into the spare bedroom that he had Simon were sharing, and found his brother sitting on the bed, looking deep in thought. Simon didn't even blink until Matt swung his suitcase onto the mattress.

"What are you doing?" Simon asked as he watched his brother begin to pack his stuff.

Matt glanced at him. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked, tossing in a pair of jeans. "I'm getting ready to go back to New York."

"I thought you were going to stay for a while..."

Matt sighed. "Yeah, well, I don't think I'll be needed here for much longer. If I can get back to school sooner then I expected, I won't be so far behind."

"I just thought you would at least stay until things around here settled down," Simon said, not only sounding distant, but looking it as well.

"It's not going to matter if I stay a year, Simon. I'm not the person who controls how things go with Ruthie. Only she can do that. Besides, I'm sure Lucy and Kevin can handle it." Matt tossed in a final few items and zipped the suitcase shut. He set it on the ground next to the door and sat down on the bed by Simon. "What's going on with you?" he asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"We missed Thanksgiving," Simon replied absently.

Things will get much better

At least I hope they will

We all need something to

Give us quite a thrill

Kevin came home to a house smelling of chicken and mashed potatoes. He shut the door and stepped father into the foyer, removing his smoking jacket as he went. Smiling, Kevin came up behind his wife who was stirring corn in a silver pot on the stove. He put his arms around her waist and kissed the crown of her head. Lucy laughed.

"How was work today?" she asked, pulling open the over door to check on the chicken.

"The usual," he responded. "Lots of paperwork. What are you making?" He sat in one of the kitchen chairs and started on removing his shoes.

"Well, we missed Thanksgiving, so I'm doing the best I can to make a similar dinner," Lucy said. "Mary was trying to reach us about it all week, and when she finally got through, there was no mention of it. But I just called her, and I guess they can't come anyway. Carlos's parents surprised them and so they're all up in New York."

Kevin laughed. "That's something that doesn't happen often."

"No kidding." Lucy pulled the chicken out of the oven and put it a potholder so the hot pan wouldn't ruin the countertop. Giving the corn a final stir, she flicked the burners off. "Set the table for me, will ya, honey?" she asked as she began placing different side dishes on the table. Kevin obliged and soon the faux Thanksgiving dinner was served.