Chapter Three
In Glen Oak, the Camden's are famous for helping those in need, whether they want the help or not. My family has never been sky about offering help to someone in need.
Through the years some of the helps we've offered has come in the form of taking some people into our home for indefinite lengths of time.
The first of such was Robbie Palmer, an ex-boyfriend of Mary's. Robbie had thought that his girlfriend at the time was pregnant- this was after he and Mary had been broken up for awhile. They had gone to Dad for counseling and had asked him to marry them. But, when it turned out that the whole pregnancy was fake and that Robbie's girlfriend had formulated the whole thing so that he'd marry her, Robbie broke it off. And, in turn, she threw him out of their apartment. My dad felt bad for him, and offered him a place in our house until he got back on his feet.
After Robbie, was Lucy's husband, Kevin Kinkirk. Lucy and Kevin weren't married yet, but Kevin had come out to Glen Oak after meeting Lucy in New York and Mom and Dad offered him the apartment above our garage. Kevin stayed there until he and Lucy were married, then Lucy moved up there with him.
It wasn't too long before we took in another person, this time it was Martin Brewer. His dad was off fighting in Iraq and his aunt was too young and immature to take him in. Not to mention, she was flying out to New York to get a start in the fashion industry. So Martin became part of the family. He stayed with us until his father returned from Iraq and then he and his dad bought a house not far from ours.
Each of these guys became like a member of our family. We loved them, helped them out when they needed it, and generally were just there for them. They were all like brothers to me, looking out for me and treating me like their sister. Sometimes I wished they wouldn't. I did, after all, have more than enough siblings. But it was nice to have them there, to know that one extra person had my back.
Tossing in bed, Ruthie tried to shake the image of seeing her father in the casket. What idiot had ordered an open casket anyway? Ruthie didn't want to see him dead, she didn't want that to be the last image she had of her father. No, she wanted to remember him as he had been. Full of life and constantly moving from one person's problem to another. She didn't want to have to think of him as cold and lifeless, his eyes closed in eternal sleep.
She sat up in bed. It was useless to try and sleep.
Moving slowly down the stairs from the attic bedroom, Ruthie listened to her mother's soft crying behind the master bedroom's closed door. It broke her heart to hear her mom, who once was so strong, weeping and mourning the loss of her husband. Tears pricked at the back of Ruthie's eyes. She wiped them away roughly. Enough tears had been shed at the visitation earlier that night. Her own tears didn't need to be added to the group.
She made her way down stairs into the kitchen. The fridge was open, someone else was up. She looked at the stooped figure shuffling through the contents of the refrigerator.
"Only thing you'll find in there is casseroles." She said tersely. Ruthie had been hoping that she'd be alone. The figure stood and turned to face her. Martin's face was illuminated in the dim light. Ruthie felt a slight tugging at her heart as he looked at her, his eyes full of sympathy and wet with his own tears.
"Yeah, I kinda guessed that." He said, throwing a look back at the fridge. Ruthie moved to sit at the counter, tugging her bathrobe tighter around her. She felt suddenly vulnerable and naked in front of him.
Martin closed the fridge, a jug of milk in his hand. He moved to a cupboard and pulled down two glasses. Pouring the milk into them he handed one to Ruthie and took one for himself. He sat beside her, his leg bumping against hers.
"Milk's not much without cookies." she said, hurriedly jumping up and heading to the cupboard that housed the cookies. The brief touch of Martin's leg against hers had startled Ruthie. And she didn't like to be startled.
Ruthie prized herself on being calm and unemotional when she had to be. She could keep her face a mask under the most pressures of circumstances. It was the only way to survive the snakes that lived in the publishing world. But now, at home, around the people she loved, her mask was slipping; melting beneath the warmth of family love.
She had the cookies in her hand, but she didn't want to return to her seat. Sitting beside Martin, feeling him there and knowing that she had been so cruel as to reject him those years ago was too painful.
Forcing herself to return to her seat, Ruthie placed the cookies in front of both of them and took one out of the bag. Dunking it into her milk, she looked at Martin out of the corner of her eye. How could she have been so stupid as to pick Mac over Martin? She should have known what she was getting herself into. Mac had always been too into girls for his own good, whereas Martin had been laid back, content on letting a relationship happen and not pursuing a girl. Ruthie should have known better than to be blinded by Mac's charm and good looks and refuse Martin's sensibility and easy going nature.
Unbidden, the memory of that day, the day after her high school graduation, came back.
Her family had thrown her a party, inviting all her friends; Mac and Martin included. Ruthie had known that over the years, especially during her relationship with Vincent, that the two had developed feelings for her. But she hadn't really been interested then. She had had a boyfriend, Vincent, and after their relationship ended she had sworn off boys for awhile. Then that day happened.
"Hey, Ruthie, can I talk to you?" Mac appeared by her side, shifting from one foot to the other as he looked at her nervously. Ruthie looked over at Martin, who she'd been talking to. She could sense that there was something Martin wanted to say to her, something that he wanted to ask her. But he didn't have the nerve to say it. She took in the look that Martin shot at Mac, the glare burning right into his friend.
"Um…" she caught Martin's eye. He sighed and hung his head. She took that as her sign. "Yeah sure."
"Great." Mac grinned and took her hand, leading her from the backyard into the kitchen. Annie was in there, getting together any last minute food items for the barbecue. She barely looked up as Mac led Ruthie into the living room, and out of ear shot.
"So um…" He looked down at his feet, which were scuffing the hardwood floor. "Congratulations."
"Thanks." Ruthie said slowly, wondering why he had to talk to her so desperately. She had a small clue, after all, he had been dropping hints every time she saw him during his breaks from college the past year.
"Is there anything else?" She asked.
"Uh…" Mac looked scared. Ruthie'd never seen him that way, it was kinda cute. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
"Yeah," he said, "I was wondering if you'dgooutwithhme." He spoke quickly, his words jumbled together.
"What?" She thought she knew what he'd said, but she wanted to be certain.
"I was wondering if…" he took a deep breath, "you'd go out with me." He looked at her hopefully, his eyes shining with a feeling that Ruthie had never seen before, except for in one other man's eyes.
"Oh," she couldn't say she was exactly surprised, but his words had kind of caught her off guard. "Sure, yeah I'd love to."
"Really?" He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Really." She smiled. Before she knew it, Mac had leaned down and kissed her.
Ruthie recalled the numerous kisses that Mac had given her over the years. Their relationship had lasted through college and a few years after. But it wasn't without its troubles. Mac had things he wanted from a girl, and Ruthie was only willing to go so far. She had set boundaries around their relationship, telling Mac just how far he could push her without her dumping him. And he had stayed within those boundaries, for the most part. They'd broken up a few times before, but a sweet word from him had always put their relationship back on track.
Ruthie wasn't really sure why she kept taking him back. Sure she loved Mac, but her feelings for him had never really been strong. Not even in the beginning. There had always been that little nagging voice in the back of her head, reminding her of the one she had passed up for this rocky relationship.
Her mind brought up the memory of what happened after Mac kissed her.
Ruthie searched Martin out. It wasn't easy, not with all the family members and friends that were crowded into the backyard and part of Lucy and Kevin's yard (they had bought the house next door to Annie and Eric and had torn down the fence separating the two houses). But, finally, she found him piling condiments onto his burger.
"You'll never believe what just happened." She said, gripping his arm tightly in her hands. Martin looked down at her, his eyes searching hers. She could see the small trace of hurt her leaving him to talk to Mac had caused. But she ignored it.
"What?" He asked.
"Mac asked me out. And then…he kissed me." She said giddily. To be honest, she wasn't all that excited, or not as excited as she pretended to be. Something inside of her just had to rub it in to Martin, however, that Mac had asked her first and that Martin had missed his chance. She wanted to gloat over him. She knew Martin had feelings for her, and that he had been trying to do the very thing that Mac had done, and she wanted him to feel the same way she had every time she saw him with another girl.
Ruthie had always harbored a crush for Martin, even when she was with Vincent. And it always tore her up to see him with someone else. Now, it was her turn to make him feel that way.
"That's," she saw the hurt, the anger in his eyes, "that's great, Ruthie." He didn't say anything else to her, simply walked away.
"So…" Martin's voice broke through the memory, bringing Ruthie crashing back down to earth. "How's Mac?" She could hear the scorn in his voice. After all these years, had he truly not forgotten the hurt, had he not gotten over his feelings for her?
She stared guilty at her milk.
"I don't know," she said, "I broke up with him a few weeks ago." She could feel Martin looking at her now. She glanced up and met his gaze, grateful for the darkness that hid the blush that crept up her cheeks.
"You did?" He looked stunned…and hopeful.
"Yeah," Ruthie shook her head, "it just wasn't working between us anymore." She didn't want to tell him about Mac sleeping around. She didn't want Martin to have that ammunition to use against her.
"Oh." That was all he said. Ruthie looked at him, gazing into the dark, trying to read his thoughts. He was silent. They both sat there, lost in their own thoughts.
"I should go back to bed." Martin broke the silence, jumping off the stool and putting his glass in the sink. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
Ruthie's mind flashed to the impending funeral.
"Yeah," she said, suddenly feeling very tired, "yeah it is." Martin moved back towards her. He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin. The sensations running through Ruthie shocked her, but not more than Martin's kissing her did. In all their years as friends, Martin had never done more than hug her, and even that had been a bit weird. But there he was, his lips warm against her skin. And suddenly, it wasn't her forehead that Ruthie wished he was kissing.
"Night, Ruthie." Martin said, pulling away quickly. It was almost like he could read her thoughts.
"Night." She said, dazed as he headed out of the kitchen and out towards the garage apartment where he was staying until after the funeral. Still in a daze, Ruthie headed up to her own room, her fingers playing against the bit of skin that Martin's lips had touched.
Well, what did y'all think? I hope you all are enjoying this story. I haven't been receiving very many reviews on this fic so I don't know if y'all want me to continue. How about I do this, if I don't get let's say…ten reviews on this chapter then I will not be updating this story. Do you think y'all can meet that? I hope so, 'cause I like writing this. Anyways, please tell me what you thought.