by Tess Oliver
Chapter 21
The morning after the Teresa disaster, Jude and Cole had returned to work and Finley had slept late. I stayed in my room and read, waiting for her to wake. When she finally did, instead of stopping at my door to burst in, climb on my bed, and tell me what our day’s activities would be she walked past. I hopped over to the door and peered out.
Finley was dressed in gray sweats with no bracelets or other adornments, just a gloomy expression. Some Pig followed behind closely, most likely wondering why breakfast had been skipped.
I followed her downstairs but didn’t say a word, and she didn’t look back to speak to me. A cold knot formed in my chest, and all of Jude’s warnings and predictions bounced around in my head. Still I felt confident that Finley could be easily snapped out of this strange dark mood. By the end of that first day with the other Finley, I realized that I was a completely ignorant fool.
Over the next several days, I watched Finley evolve from a petite force of nature who could light up a room with her energy to a pale, withdrawn girl who hovered around the house like a gloomy mist. Aside from her tiny stature, white blonde hair, and blue eyes, which had lost their luster completely, there was nothing about Finley I recognized. She spent the entire day huddled in a tight, impenetrable ball of silence, speaking more words to her pig than to me. She had few words for her brothers too, and the strain of it was showing heavily on their faces. Her abrupt plummet into depression had brought the entire mood of the house down, and even Jude and I hardly looked at each other. I felt completely helpless and completely out of my depth. There was nothing I could do except sit and hope she would somehow lift out of it.
Jude and Cole seemed to be working extra long hours, and I felt certain that it was purposeful to avoid being home. Several times, they’d argued about whether or not they should call their dad home, but they compromised on just letting him know that she was feeling down. And feeling down was a humongous understatement. Feeling down comes from losing your favorite necklace. Feeling down comes from starting your period the day before the class pool party. Feeling down comes from forgetting the homework you spent two hours on the night before. Finley had long passed feeling down. She seemed to have slipped into a long black tunnel where no light could be seen on either end.
***
A knock on the door roused me from a restless sleep. It was just after six. I shuffled to the door and opened it. Jude was standing in the hallway dressed for work. He stared down at a phone on the palm of his hand. He’d hardly looked me in the eye for the past few days, almost as if he were embarrassed by the whole situation or as if he felt like he’d failed his sister in some way.
“You need a phone,” he said in a tone that was completely foreign and distant. “I put our phone numbers in there. Call if you need us.”
A lump the size of an orange formed in my throat. He spoke to me almost as if we were strangers, and suddenly, I wanted to be far away from this place and back with my kooky but normal family. Finley had not been carrying her phone, and I was sure it was no longer charged. So I had no way to communicate with my family. They had planned to call me with their new number and address the moment they arrived. Now I had no idea where they were or how to reach them and they were no doubt worried about the loss of contact. In that respect, it was hard not be angry at Finley for being so self-absorbed in her own problems that now I was just an employee who was there to keep an eye on her. For the first time since I’d arrived, I felt that she was regretting my presence as much as I was regretting being there.
I responded to Jude with the same distant tone, only I had to make a conscious effort to make it sound that way. “All right.” I took the phone, but as I pulled my hand away, Jude grabbed tightly hold of my wrist. He still hadn’t looked at me. Instead, he stared down at his long, thick fingers holding the frail bones of my wrist.
“You warned me,” I uttered quietly, but the words seemed to echo loudly through the vacant hallway.
He nodded and then pulled me into his arms. He held me for a long time without saying a word and then as quickly as he’d grabbed me, he released me and walked away.
***
Following the same routine as the last several days, Finley emerged from her room around noon still dressed in sweats. I was fairly certain she was sleeping in them. We walked silently downstairs, and I noticed that she didn’t even bother with her routine of tapping the banister.
The housekeeper, Tilly, met us at the bottom landing. “There’s a package for you, Miss King.”
I looked over at Finley, but even news of a package did not unfreeze the permanent frown that now marred her pretty face. I picked up the package that she seemed to determine to ignore and followed her to the couch where she immediately turned on the soap operas she’d been watching all week. I placed the package on the table in front of her.
“Coffee and cereal?” I asked. She was eating only tiny amounts, and cereal seemed to be the one food she would agree to. As usual, she didn’t answer, so I walked into the kitchen to get some. Some Pig followed and I scooped some of his food into his bowl.
We sat there for several hours. Finley stared at the television, and I read a stack of magazines. I’d grown weary of the mundane articles and pages of advertisements. I glanced at the unopened box. “It’s from your dad. Aren’t you curious what’s inside?” I asked hoping to spur her into a conversation.
She shook her head. “Go ahead, open it.”
I pulled off the strip of packing tape. There was a small handwritten card on top. “I’ve heard these herbs are good for when you’re feeling down. Love Dad.” I read it to her but got no reaction. There were several fragrant boxes of expensive looking tea inside, and I lifted them out and looked at them. Now I knew what Jude was talking about. Her dad was in denial. Tea? He thought flowery smelling tea was going to snap his daughter out of a darkness that had swallowed her so completely, it was as if only the shell of Finley existed.
“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 n
oticed 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.
Cole devoured his in minutes, and I handed him half of mine. “Here. It’s way too much burger for me.”
“You sure?” The sandwich was halfway to his mouth.
“Positive.”
“I don’t know how you girls exist on such tiny amounts of food.” He plowed it into his mouth. The evening’s events had definitely not upset his appetite. He wiped the pristine linen napkin across his mouth. “So I guess you and Jude are a thing.”
His comment caught me off guard, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Especially because I really had no idea if we were a thing. Jude’s attitude toward me seemed to have changed as drastically as his sister’s spirits.
“We’re not really a thing,” I finally said, and realized my words were depressingly true. As much as I would have liked there to be a thing, I’d gotten myself into something much more complex than I’d imagined. The rocky and unfulfilling relationship I’d had with Chandler at school had been pretty straightforward. Fairly early on I’d discovered Chandler wanted to be with me just as long as no one of importance knew about it. At first, I’d been willing to accept it because I’d had a crush on the guy, and who doesn’t want to be with the most popular guy in school? But my heart was never at risk with Chandler. Deep down, I’d known it, and it’d been easy to let him go. But with Jude, my usual confidence, the usual defenses I put up around my heart had disintegrated with his first kiss. I’d known from the beginning that nothing about the relationship was good or solid, but I’d let myself fall for him.
Cole gulped back the last of his cola. “I don’t know about that. I think it’s a thing to my brother.”
Of course, I desperately wanted to ask him why he thought so, but then I’d never thought of Cole as someone who was good at reading other people’s feelings. His thoughts seemed mostly centered around Cole. I decided to change the subject because this one was making my already bleak mood worse.
He leaned back against the seat. “Yeah, probably. I guess Jude and I have been putting it off because Dad usually blames us when Finley’s upset. Then he comes back with his entourage, and it only causes more chaos.”
“First of all, I like your dad, but there can’t be anything more unfair than him blaming you both for Finley’s depression. She needs some professional help and a doctor.”
He picked at the fries in his basket but this topic seemed to have thrown a curve in his otherwise seemingly endless hunger. “I think my dad has had so many problems with drugs through the years, even with prescription stuff, he thinks they’re all bad now.”
“But he still drinks.”
He chuckled. “I know, ironic, isn’t it?”
“Couldn’t you convince your dad to come home without his people this one time? Finley adores him, and he might be just what she needs to bring her out of this.”
It was rare to see Cole deep in thought, but he seemed to be considering my suggestion. “You might be right. I’ll talk to Jude about it and see what he thinks.”
As we slid out of the booth, Cole checked his phone. “Huh, there are three missed calls from Jude.” He dialed Jude. “He’s not answering.”
I’d left the phone Jude had given me on my nightstand.
Cole looked back at me and both our thoughts could not have been plainer if they’d been floating around our heads in bold print. The hamburger did a full leap and somersault in my stomach as we raced out the door to the truck.
Cole raced up the street toward his house. My fingers wrapped tightly around the arm rest in the car as my intuition told me the worst had happened. Tension and dread pulsated around Cole too. We spotted the flashing red lights long before we reached the security gates.
My hands were shaking and the blood had drained from my head as his tires screeched up the long driveway to the mansion. A fire truck, police car, and ambulance were blocking the curved driveway. A gurney was just being pushed into the back of the ambulance.
