There continues to be no word on my brother. I'm just hanging in there and trying to keep it real.

Thirteen:
Christmastide (pt four)

Elise was in charge of the turkey and the goose, Elizabeth was in charge of the side dishes, and Ruth was in charge of the pudding. Ruth made several quick custard pies, an apple pie, and a honey pumpkin pie, glad that Harry had insisted on having two dual ovens installed specifically for this purpose when they'd moved into the newer, much larger house.

They worked quickly and quietly, until Ruth said, "Mum, I'm happy for you and Malcolm."

Elizabeth looked up and blinked. "Oh," she said quietly.

"No, I mean it," Ruth said. "I love Malcolm dearly, and if you're happy with him, I'm happy for the both of you."

"But you don't approve, really, do you?"

"Mum, it's not my place to approve," Ruth sighed. "God knows you didn't approve of Harry. Do you now?"

"Only because he's a decent man who took care of your girls while you were galavanting all over god knows where," Elizabeth scoffed. "Bloody hell, Ruth, if you wanted to find yourself, couldn't you just go fuck a girl and be done with it?"

Ruth blinked. "Mum," she said, "it was to do with work."

"Like hell it was." Elizabeth's words were icy and cut straight to the bone. "You left your children behind with a man who couldn't even hardly make himself toast in the morning!"

Elise cleared her throat, then said, "To be fair, Harry did a damn good job of taking care of the girls."

Elizabeth huffed, then said, "Elise, you're too damn nice for your own good. I'm surprised Harry took you back at all, Ruth – especially since Jamie could be god knows anybody's baby, the way you pop them out!"

Ruth felt as though she'd just been slapped within an inch of her life. "How dare you say that to me?" she whispered. "How fucking dare you, mum? You have no idea what I went through. You have no clue! You don't know anything and I wish you'd shut your fucking mouth sometimes. Who's brilliant advice was it for me to stay with Gareth, huh? Even though you knew he abused me. Thanks for that, by the way. It taught me how to be invisible and survive in plain sight." She couldn't keep the anger, the bitterness, the sarcasm out of her voice. "You know what? I don't see what Malcolm loves about you. I can't. I've lived with your derisive hateful behavior my entire life. Just… forget it, mum."

She left the room before either of them could stop her, and she rushed past the sitting room and the library and out onto the front steps without her coat. After the presents, they'd all taken the time to go upstairs and change into clothes for the day, and she was glad of it – there was at least a little warmth in her jumper and jeans.

She rushed up the street, ignoring her mother's cry from the house. She couldn't, wouldn't, go back and face that kind of scorn and hate masquerading as love and concern. Malcolm could have her if he wanted her so badly, but Ruth was done, finished, over fighting with her mother over every little thing. She'd lost too much time to their arguments over the years.

It was cold, almost bitterly so, and the wind was whipping around her with malice. She heard footsteps behind her, crunching on the ice and snow, and she whirled around to see Catherine following her. "Go back to the party," Ruth said. "No point in my ruining it for everyone. It's obvious that you had a better time last year."

Catherine held up Ruth's coat. "I thought you might get cold," she said. "Are you okay?"

"No," Ruth said, "I'm not." Really, honestly, she couldn't bear to go back after that. Everything was wrong after she'd come home from New York. Her kids didn't know how to treat her, Harry put her on a pedestal, everyone else gave her a wide berth… all she wanted was for everything to be normal again. She didn't know which way was up, really.

Catherine said, "You and your mum don't get along, then?"

Ruth hesitated, then shook her head. "No point in sugar coating it, is there? No. We don't. Never have. She loves the girls to bits, though, despite me clearly making all the wrong decisions in having them in the first place." She still hadn't moved to take her coat from her step-daughter.

"Ruth, you're going to freeze," Catherine urged, holding the coat out to her.

"You know, when I told her I was pregnant with Rose, she asked if I was having an affair," Ruth said bitterly. "Because god knows everyone knew my husband was flamingly gay." She shook her head and took the coat, but didn't put it on. "And when I was pregnant with Daisy, it actually was an affair. But she just assumed it was Gareth again, because her sweet, mousy little Ruth wouldn't dare do something so naughty."

"Sometimes, we do all the wrong things for the right reasons," Catherine said softly. "You should've heard dad when I told him I was pregnant with Ben. I thought he was going to bring the whole house down around my ears."

"Your father only wants what's best for you," Ruth said automatically. "My mother, on the other hand, was never a very good mum in that regard, and I was left to follow my own moral compass most of the time."

"You seem to have turned out just fine," Catherine replied. "She's a bit of a piece of work, though – Malcolm's trying to bring her round right now. He knows she upset you badly, and they were starting to shout when I walked out the door."

"Malcolm shouldn't have to play go-between," Ruth sighed, running her hands over her face. "God, I hate this. I hate not being able to have an actual conversation with my mum without it turning into an outright fight."

"I know," Catherine murmured. "Put your coat on and we'll take a couple turns around the block, okay? I want to help, Ruth; I hate seeing you upset just as much as dad does."

"Then why isn't he the one out here?" Ruth shot back, slipping into her coat and buttoning it up.

"Because he's busy entertaining the littles," Catherine said, "and you can't just stop in the middle of a handpuppet play with a couple of three year olds."

"No, you're right," Ruth agreed, smiling a little at the thought of Harry doing puppet theatre for Jamie and Kelly. Siobhan probably would be watching, too, but would lie and say she wasn't because puppets were for babies – that had been Rose and Daisy's line so long ago. She looked at Catherine properly for the first time, and saw naked concern and a small amount of love and compassion in her eyes, and she came to realize then that Harry's daughter had completely adopted her as a friend at least. "Catherine, I'm fine," Ruth said quietly. "This is typical, status quo; there's no need to worry about me. I survive."

"Surviving is easy," Catherine said. "It's the living with it day after day that's difficult." She looked away, and Ruth felt a pang of guilt for making her feel whatever she was feeling in that moment. "Kelly's dad was in the Army," she said quietly. "He went to Afghanistan. He didn't come home. There wasn't enough of him left to bring home. I survive, because I have to, but I'm not sure… that I'm living." She glanced back, and Ruth reached out to hold her hand as they walked. "I dated a man that, in retrospect, probably wasn't any good for me at all, but he made me feel wanted, special… and then I found out he was married and he wanted me to have an abortion because his wife would find out. That's Ben. So, no, living with it is the hard part. Dad nearly had a stroke."

Ruth said, "I had a friend when I was living in Miami who wanted to be much more than a friend. But I love your father too much to ever really contemplate screwing around with someone else." She looked over at Catherine. "Your dad was the only affair I've ever had, you know. I was married when we met. It was very difficult to live with, especially when he killed off his legend and I was left alone and pregnant to face my husband – and nothing was right after that."

"Nothing's been right for me since Liam died," Catherine whispered. "I've got two kids and I can barely function. I live with my brother and his wife; I quit making films."

"No," Ruth said, in shock, "Catherine, you didn't –"

"Well, I can't bloody leave my kids and go off on adventures, can I?" Catherine said sharply. When she realized what she'd said, and how overcome with guilt Ruth was suddenly, she said, "I didn't mean to imply that what you did was anything like that at all, Ruth. Dad told me that you being gone was to do with work and you couldn't help it – he spent all his spare time working to prove your innocence and bring you home. When he wasn't trying to cope with Rose and Daisy, I mean. I tried to help, but it was hard for everyone. I stopped making films after Liam died, because I couldn't bear the thought of figuring out the logistics of getting Kelly cared for."

"You should never stop doing what you love because you're grieving," Ruth murmured. "It makes everything that much harder to live with."

"I want to start again, but I don't know how," Catherine admitted. "And now there's Ben to worry about, too, not just Kelly."

"We'll get you a nanny," Ruth said firmly. "And help you raise money for your next film. There's nothing in the world that Harry and I would like more than to help you get back on your feet, Catherine. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help before; I am. I don't know that there was anything I could have done, but…" She paused and inhaled deeply. "But I know how you feel. Like you're drowning and there's no help in sight. But you're wrong – you just need to reach out and ask."

"I'm glad you're back," Catherine said very quietly.

"I'm sorry about your mum."

Catherine shrugged. "She'd gone off me and my antics, as she called them. She didn't want Graham or me near her when she was in hospital. She insisted on making things right with dad, though. Brain cancer does funny things to people, I guess."

Ruth squeezed her step-daughter's hand. "Well, I can't guarantee to be the mother figure you need, but if you need advice, or anything… I'll be here, now," she promised.

"I don't need you to be my mum," Catherine said, a bit indignantly. "I need you to be my friend."

"That I can do without reservation," Ruth said, smiling. "It's rather chilly. Maybe we should go back."

"Only if you think you're ready to face the dragon," Catherine said. "I've not really liked your mum, but dad says a family Christmas is a family Christmas even if we don't like your mum." She smiled a little, then added, "He's not very fond of her, either, but she adores my sisters."

Ruth felt a rush of warmth hearing Catherine refer to them as her sisters, as though she'd taken them firmly under her wings and made them hers. "Well, mum was always fonder of Rose and Daisy than she was of me," Ruth admitted with a little smile. "It's okay, though. I can't change the past. Neither can she. We can only make choices in the here and now."

"Are you ready to go back?" Catherine asked.

Ruth nodded and sighed. "I suppose I should apologize to her."

"No, you shouldn't," Catherine said. "She was in the wrong, not you."

"It's not about who was wrong or right," Ruth said, "it's about mending fences." Though, she would admit, she mended hers just to have them torn down again.

They rounded the corner and headed back toward the house. Harry was sitting on the front steps, waiting for them. "Ruth," he said softly, standing up, looking more worried and frightened than she'd ever seen him. "I thought – I thought you'd leave and not come back –"

"Never," Ruth murmured, wrapping her arms around him and holding on for dear life. "I'm never going to willingly leave you again, Harry. I just needed to clear my head and talk myself out of chucking my mum out onto the street on Christmas day."

Harry looked up at his daughter and said, "Thank you for checking on her –"

"Dad, don't worry about it," Catherine said softly. "Besides, if I didn't go after her, she'd be out here without her coat. And it's bloody freezing."

Harry pulled back just a little and gave Ruth a kiss. "Promise me you won't go out without your coat again," he said softly. "And if you're ever that angry at me for being a stupid old git that you'll just throw something at me instead of running out into the street without a coat."

"I promise," Ruth sighed, kissing him back. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't; you just scared me half to death."

"Well, I'm sorry I frightened you," she whispered. "I wouldn't leave you, Harry. Not after everything." She hugged him tighter, tucking her face into his chest. "She just makes me so angry with her assumptions and being a bitter old cow –"

"Malcolm has set her straight," Harry said quietly. "About your leaving. He's rather cross with her right now."

"I'm sorry I'm such a bloody trouble," Ruth sighed.

Catherine said, "I probably ought to get inside – Ben will probably be wanting a feed about now." She disappeared inside, leaving Harry and Ruth holding each other on the front stoop. The neighbors would talk if they saw it, but everyone should be inside celebrating the holiday.

"Harry, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't even think – I just needed to get out of there, away from my mum."

"I know," Harry sighed.

"Catherine wouldn't leave me alone – I'm grateful she didn't," Ruth said softly. "She's hurting so much, Harry."

"I know," he whispered, "and there's nothing I can do for her that I haven't already done."

"Well, then, it's a good thing I'm back," Ruth said firmly. "She needs to know she's not alone, no matter what she thinks. And she's not. If she could go back to making films, it would be such a boon to her spirit. Where is she working right now?"

"She works for Jenny," Harry said. "She's one of the three partners in Jenny's business; they're doing quite well, actually. Just secured a contract with Harrods for their luxury bath goods, in fact. Catie should just stay with what she's doing – it's less dangerous, more stable and…"

"And her heart just isn't in it," Ruth pointed out softly. "We should work something out, even if it's just the MI-5 recruitment video. I'm sure you need a new one of those; seems like they go out of date every few months, don't they?"

"That's actually not a bad idea," he murmured, holding her tighter. "God, I just want to take you upstairs and –"

"Too many people in the house," she pointed out, chuckling. "You want to take a turn around the block with me?"

"It's too bloody cold," he muttered. "Let's go inside."

She sighed. "I really don't want to talk to her, Harry, not even to apologize."

"Then don't," he replied. "But come inside before we both start freezing our bits and bobs off."

She smiled a little and murmured, "I feel like an ass for getting you a new suit and tie when you showered me with jewels."

"Ruth, there's no greater gift you could have given me than just being here," he whispered. "Except maybe Jamie, but even he's a close second to having you home."

"I'm sorry everything was so difficult," Ruth murmured.

"Life is difficult," he pointed out.

"Let's go inside," she said after another minute or so of just holding one another and feeling safe. "I need to check on the pies."

"Ah, yes," Harry replied. "The pies."

She poked him. "You'll love the pumpkin one – it's made with honey instead of all the usual sugar, so it caramelizes better and has much more flavor."

"I don't like pumpkin."

She scowled at him. "How are we so much in love and can't even agree on Christmas pudding?" she asked.

"I don't know," he admitted, "but as long as there's an apple pie, I will be happy."

"There is," she said with a small smile, giving him a gently tender kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Harry said.

Small words that didn't even come close to touching the deep well of their devotion, but words spoken none the less.

END PART THIRTEEN