“Do you want me to brew you a cup?” I asked.
She shook her head. And that was the end of the conversation.
After six hours of a soap opera marathon and two bowls of cereal, Finley stretched out on the couch and fell asleep. I covered her with a blanket and went back upstairs. There was a computer in my room that I’d barely used because I’d never had internet at home and hardly knew where to go online. I decided to do a little research into depression. There wasn’t much else to do.
One hour into my search, I realized you could talk yourself into any disease or malady if you read enough about it. And the volume of information floating around on depression was confusing, overwhelming and, well, depressing.
I drifted around in the bottomless world of information for awhile. It made me drowsy enough that I got up and climbed onto the bed to take a nap. I’d just fallen asleep when a slamming door jarred me awake again. Heavy footsteps plodded down the hallway and staircase.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed, fished for my sandals, and headed downstairs. Deep, angry voices sparked off the walls of the hallway leading to the kitchen area where Finley had been fast asleep on the couch. Obviously, she wasn’t sleeping any longer.
“I don’t know why the fuck you’re blaming me for this.” I’d rarely heard Cole angry, and it sounded strange to my ears.
“Max is your friend. You should have warned him or told him to stay the hell away if it was going to be too much for him to handle,” Jude answered.
A breath of fear caught in my throat, and I picked up my pace and sped toward the kitchen. I could only assume that Finley had left the kitchen area. There was no way they were having this conversation in her presence.
Jude slammed a beer bottle on the counter just as I reached the kitchen. “You and dad are great pretenders, but I’m tired of it. I’m tired of tiptoeing around her. I’m tired of living on the edge of an exploding crisis.” Jude had not noticed me step into the room. My gaze shot to the couch. Only the back of it was visible from the kitchen, and my heart sank like a lead ball in my chest.
“Do you think it doesn’t affect me?” Cole asked sharply.
“You ignore it most of the time.” I stepped into Jude’s line of vision, but he was so emotionally charged, seeing me didn’t stop his venting. “She needs help, professional help—”
Not knowing what else to do, I waved my arm wildly over my head. Cole and Jude looked at me, taking real notice of me for the first time. It finally seemed to dawn on Jude that my presence meant Finley was near. His stunned gaze shot to the hallway behind me. Confusion crossed his face as I shook my head. Then I looked over at the couch. Some Pig trotted around to the back of it and stood with his snout in the air.
A dread laden silence filled from the room.
“Sonavabitch,” Jude muttered. Color drained from his face.
The couch jolted and the blanket flew over the back as Finley leapt from her hiding spot and ran for the hallway. Jude lunged to stop her, but she screamed and threw her fists at him. Her fingernails caught his cheek and four drops of blood rolled down his face. Cole followed Finley.
Jude stood silently and watched the blood drip a pattern on his shirt.
“Jude,” I said quietly.
He didn’t respond or look up. His long, dark lashes dropped as he closed his eyes. The agony in his face was too much to bear. Tears rolled down my cheeks to match the blood streaming down his face. He’d been Finley’s rock. He’d been her life support when things went haywire. I could feel his pain deep in the pit of my stomach.
I walked closer to him, but the energy around him told me there was nothing I could do or say to ease his agony.
“Let me clean those scratches,” I said in a barely audible voice.
He turned and nearly kicked the back door off its hinges as he stormed out of the house.
I sat down on the couch and patted Some Pig on the head. Even he was suffering from all this. Moments later Cole returned. His efforts had been short-lived and most likely with the usual lack of effort. But it was hard to blame him in a situation where no amount of effort brought any results.
“She’s tucked herself under her comforter,” he said with a definite degree of disgust. And it was hard not to feel a large degree of sympathy for both her brothers at this point. Even though Finley was the one suffering, it was not without some harsh suffering on their part as well.
“Is she sleeping?” I asked.
He opened the fridge and stuck his head inside. “Yeah, I’m sure she’ll just cry herself to sleep.” He emerged with a carton of milk which he opened, sniffed, and then dumped the contents in the sink. “Where did Jude go?”
“He left.”
“Thought he might. That was brutal. Finley is going to take this hard, but I think Jude will take it harder.” Cole grabbed a box of crackers from the pantry. “I was going to bring Max with me tonight, but to tell the truth, he seems kind of freaked out about everything. I don’t think he realized how much stuff Finley was dealing with. I know he likes her, but no one likes to take on someone else’s baggage. Everyone’s got their own shit to wade through.” He ate a handful of crackers and then threw the box on the counter. Some Pig snuffled up the crumbs Cole had dropped. “This has got to be hard on you, you spoiled piece of ham. Hell, just mentioning ham makes me realize I’m friggin’ starved.” He looked at me. “I know you two have been eating nothing but cereal these past couple of days. You’ve got to be hungry too.”
“Little bit.”
“Then get your sweatshirt and I’ll drive you to this great burger place down the street. If there’s no line, we can eat and be back in an hour.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t want to leave Finley.”
“She’s sleeping. Besides, she’s not alone. I’ll let Tilly know we’re coming right back.” He shot me a sympathetic smile. “I know you’ve been stuck in here watching soaps all day. Finley always has the same routine for her down times. I’m sure you could use an hour away from here.”
As tempting as a great burger and time away sounded, I was hesitant. “Let me go check on Finley first. I need to take Some Pig up anyhow. He’s probably tired.”
Cole nodded but didn’t look too pleased. “Hurry up though. I’m hungry.”
I climbed the stairs with Some Pig following close behind. Up until the last few days, I’d enjoyed every minute with Finley. I’d looked forward to each day knowing that it would be filled with at least three major bouts of laughter. But now I dreaded seeing her. I loathed seeing this side of her. I had no idea what to say to her, and the connection that had come so instantly and fervently from the beginning had been lost. That bothered me most of all. I knocked but there was no response.
Some Pig had a litter box and bed of straw in a giant closet in Finley’s bedroom. I looked down at him and just like a little kid, he seemed to be doing what my mom had always referred to as the pee pee dance. I opened the door quietly, and the pig trotted to his little room and disappeared inside.
Finley looked tiny in her big bed buried beneath the layers of plush blankets. I tiptoed over and gently pulled back the cover. Her face was red from crying, but she slept soundly. It was amazing how much sleep she needed in this state. I tucked the blanket in around her, turned off the light, and left the room.
Hopefully, a long night of sleep would ease the pain of what had happened with Jude.
***
The burger joint in my neighborhood had wobbly plastic chairs, food wrapped in paper, and that distinctive thin coating of grease on everything, including the napkin dispenser. In Cole’s neighborhood, the burger joint was more of a boutique than a joint. The ten dollar burgers were delivered in a basket to the rustic, but elegant, pine booths. A linen napkin cradled the basket and the soda arrived in a sparkling wine glass. But after the first few bites it occurred to me that the greasy dive served better burgers.