Handle With Care

Three

"Where did you get that?" Lucy demanded, frozen in the doorway of her apartment. Alyssa, her roommate, was standing near her bed holding a familiar and quite personal item that Lucy kept hidden under her pillow.

Alyssa grinned and turned the photograph around to Lucy as if she had just asked to see it. "Who's this hunk?" she taunted. "And old boyfriend, perhaps?" Alyssa wiggled the piece of paper around as if it was dancing or blowing carelessly in the wind.

"Give it to me," Lucy warned, ready to tackle this woman who dared to mess with her and her life she never wanted to bring back.

"Tell me and I will." Alyssa climbed atop her bed and held the photo way out of Lucy's reach. She was smiling like an idiot, as if she had just won some fabulous prize, when in fact, she didn't know what she was getting into.

Lucy lowered her voice, not liking the newfound resistance her roommate was giving her, "Alyssa, you don't know what you're digging up. Just don't."

"An emotional scar, eh?" Alyssa looked thoughtfully at the picture and then back at Lucy, giving her a malicious sneer. "Tell me, or I'll rip it."

"You are such a-"

"Brat?" Alyssa provided.

Lucy glared at the woman and replied, "It's not what I was going to go with, but it works."

Alyssa sighed. "Yeah, I know. But at least I know how to get what I want."

Expelling the breath that she didn't notice she had been holding, Lucy realized that she was never going to win this argument. Alyssa already knew everything about her, she might as well know about Kevin too. Lucy fell into a nearby chair and looked up into Alyssa's green, accomplished eyes.

"The man in the picture is Kevin Kinkirk. Before my father died, he was my boyfriend. We were going to get married, but I guess something happened." Lucy looked down into her lap, not wanting Alyssa to see her cry. "He said I changed, and that he didn't like that side of me, much less love it, so...he left."

Alyssa get down from her perch and handed the photograph back to Lucy. "You haven't heard from him since?" she asked, sounding as if she could care less.

Lucy reached a hand up to her face, trying to wipe her tears away discreetly. "No."

Alyssa let out an irritated breath. "Oh, stop your crying. He's probably much happier now that he's gone. Knowing your family, that's all the piece of mind you need."

Lucy sat stunned, not sure of what to make of her friend's comment. She knew Ally was forthright, but this was extremely surprising to hear, even from her.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

Alyssa shrugged and turned her back to Lucy as she walked away. "You know perfectly well what it means," she called over her shoulder just as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

Kevin's hazel eyes looked up at her. He was happy. They both were. "What happened to me, Kevin?" she asked silently, but Kevin offered no reply. She was ultimately alone.

Mary expelled a shaky breath as she held the phone up to her ear and listened to it ring. It wasn't long before her Aunt Julie picked up the other end. Not being able to find her voice, or her courage, Mary couldn't speak.

"Hello?" Aunt Julie repeated for the third time, and Mary was sure she was going to hang up on her. This was one of the hardest things Mary had to do in her recently found adult life. If she didn't say anything, this phone call would be nothing more than a minor annoyance on both parts.

"Aunt Julie, it's Mary."

There was silence, then:

"Mary? Gosh, it's been so long. How are you?" Julie said without a breath in between.

Mary could feel herself smiling. It was nice to hear someone be happy that she called. "I'm sorry I haven't called. I've had...a lot to deal with."

"I know, and it's okay. We're talking now." Julie paused. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Here it was: Mary's entire reason for calling.

"Actually, yeah, there is something." Mary suddenly wondered if she should even be asking her aunt to do this. After all, it was something that she, herself, could do. Figuring Julie was the better candidate for the job, Mary went on, "I was hoping that you had heard from my Mom or any of my brothers or sisters..."

Mary could almost see the smile fading from her aunt's face. The hesitance told her the answer was not going to be a good one.

"No, honey, I'm sorry. I haven't heard from any of them since they moved into that new apartment."

Mary bit her lip. "That was months ago."

"What's going on, Mary?" For the first time throughout their whole conversation, Mary could hear the concern in Julie's voice. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, I haven't heard from any of them, either, and I'm really worried. I was calling to see if you could kind of...check up on them...? I would do it myself, but I'm all the way out here in New York and you're so much closer."

Carlos stood in the doorway to the master bedroom that he and Mary shared. He knew he shouldn't have been listening, but it was nice to see his wife taking on responsibility. Actually, he didn't exactly have a choice. She wouldn't talk to him about anything and was reduced to eavesdropping. Anything to give him a piece of mind that Mary was really okay after what had happened to her – their – family. She still had a long way to go, but this was a very good beginning.

Simon finished setting the table with food and whatnot as the twins, Sam and David, went to get Ruthie for dinner. Every night around this time, he would always get these painful pangs in his heart, for he missed the family dinners were everyone would sit around the table and laugh at ridiculous stories that were being told. Sometimes he wondered if his mother would ever join them for a meal again, or if he would have to continue to bring her food on a tray as if she was a sickly, bedridden, senior citizen.

"Is that Mom's?" Ruthie asked, nodding towards the already dished noodles on the serving platter, when she arrived with the twins by her side.

"Who else would it be for?" Simon asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he filled a glass with water and set it next to the plate.

Ruthie glared. "It's 'whom'."

Simon glanced at her briefly and picked up the serving tray that was ready to go to Annie.

"Let me take it. Please?" Ruthie begged.

Without missing a beat, Simon replied, "No."

Ruthie crossed her arms over her chest, instantly feeling defensive. "Why not?"

"Because you aren't mature enough to deal with this." Carefully, Simon balanced the tray on his hip while he opened the door to his mother's darkened room.

Once inside, Simon set the tray down on the table that was near the entrance. Looking over to the bed, he was able to make out his mother's thin form under the covers. He went to stand by her side and shook her gently until she was awake. She opened her eyes, but refused to look at him, and he knew why.

I remind her of Dad, he thought.

"Mom, I have your dinner," he said softly, brushing her stringy hair away from her pale face. She seemed to have aged fifty years from when he last saw her that morning. Dark circles hung under her eyes and her eyelashes, once full and beautiful, were thin and almost nonexistent. Annie looked so different than what she used to, he might not have known this woman at all. She wasn't his mother anymore; she didn't even look like her.