I struggled to keep my mind on my email—it was hard since I only had one—then I attempted to update my homepage. But how could I put an update about my life when it seemed like the only thing going on was the one thing I was trying not to think about? Thankfully before too long, I heard the front door open.
“Kids! Come carry the groceries!” Mom called.
She’d gone grocery shopping without me? I loved to go grocery shopping with my mom. It was a dumb little thing—Mom was busy, she couldn’t wait for me just to go grocery shopping—but it made me feel so completely alone and abandoned.
“Erika! Emma! Egan!” Mom’s voice was more forceful as she headed for the kitchen. She stuck her head in the study door. “Riki? Did you hear me?”
“I’m coming,” I said. I closed Internet Explorer, and escaped before the picture confronted me again. Egan nearly collided with me at the bottom of the stairs. We were apparently the only two reporting for duty. I was willing to bet Emma was asleep, and Enid was either asleep or suffering from her usual lethargy.
“I hope she got ice cream,” Egan said. “And Cap’n Crunch.”
When we reached the open trunk, he began searching through the bags for treasure.
“Stop that, Egan, just carry them in,” I scolded.
He stuck out his tongue at me and continued scavenging. I grabbed as many bags as I could carry and turned to go inside. Mom came out the door just as a bottle of ketchup—a plastic bottle, thankfully—tumbled out of the trunk to the ground.
“Egan. What are you doing?” She sighed. I barely had to glance at her to see that her face was more lined and tired than it had been a few days before. More pain than I could bear swelled in my chest. I pushed it down, unable to face it. I deposited the groceries in the kitchen before practically running out to my tire swing.
I climbed into it facing away from the house. I rested my cheek against the rope, feeling the warm scratchy burn as my tears slid down between my cheek and the rope. My head and my heart were both so full that I couldn’t think or feel straight. I couldn’t face any of my family without feeling a mixture of anger and sadness. I didn’t want to be selfish, but I couldn’t help it.
“Sweet pea?”
How come time went by so quickly in my tire swing? Dad was already home? Thankfully my tears had long dried. I waited for him to walk around where I could see him.
“How are you doin’, kiddo? I’m sorry if we’ve been neglecting you.”
“I’m okay,” I said. “You haven’t been neglecting me.”
“You sure? ‘Cause you’re our stable one, and I think sometimes we might depend on you too much.”
I was the stable one? I guess if you equate being quiet with being stable. I was glad Dad thought that though. I was flattered. I guess I could be pretty stable.
“I’m here and your mom’s here if you need to talk or need a hug or anything, okay? Most of all, God’s here. Have you been keeping up with your devotions?”
I dropped my gaze to his feet and shook my head. The truth was I hadn’t even thought about reading the Bible. I was too confused about right and wrong—about everything I’d been raised to believe.
“I know it’s hard to find alone time right now, but devotions are important; I know you know that. God’s the One Who’s gonna get us through this.”
“I know.” I managed to raise my eyes to his face so he wouldn’t know I was lying. He wasn’t even looking at me. I could tell he was staring at the window of Emma’s room. Before I could get annoyed, he looked at me, his eyes telling me he loved me. He ruffled my hair and kissed my forehead.
“C’mon, it’s time for dinner, and after dinner we’ll dig out the air mattress. I think Emma will be quite comfortable in the study for a while.”
My heart soared with hope, but dropped again at the thought of Emma’s reaction.
I climbed out of the tire with Dad’s help, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
“I can sleep in the study,” I said.
“Sweet pea,” he started, but paused. “Well, we might just have to do that.”
The kitchen was bustling with activity when we walked in. Egan had two hands full of silverware with Gus tugging at his arms, begging to help; Emma was attempting to carry three glasses of tea at the same time; and Mom was trying to get the food into the dining room while encouraging everybody to be careful not to spill.
“Here, Em’, let me help.” Dad quickly and smoothly saved the ill-fated tea glasses and carried them into the dining room.
“There you are, Erika,” Mom sighed. “Can you help set the table? Egan’s a little distracted.” If possible, her eyes were even more tired than before.
“Gus!” Egan exclaimed as the silverware he was carrying clattered to the tile floor. “Now they’re all dirty!” Gus merrily grabbed as many as his hands could hold and started for the dining room—his goal achieved. “Mom!” Egan whined.
I realized everyone’s patience was running a little low—even Egan who had little patience to begin with. My pity for my brother was not significant enough to cause me to step in, but my sympathy for my mom was. I was, after all, the stable one.
“It’s fine, Egan,” I said. I bent to help him pick the scattered forks and spoons up. “We can just rinse them off. You go ahead and do these and I’ll get the others from Gus.”
“Okay,” he growled. I was having a hard time remembering if there had been a time when Egan and I had actually gotten along.
I chased my nephew down and sweet-talked the silverware away from him as everyone else finished setting the table. By the time I got the last few pieces of silverware on the table, everyone else was seated. I quickly sat down by Emma, avoiding Enid’s eyes.
Dad swept his gaze around his somber, grouchy family before leaning forward. “Let’s pray,” he said. He bowed his head and began to pray. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t pay attention to his words.
God was going to get us through this, huh? Why had He gotten us into this in the first place?
I washed the dishes alone while Mom, Enid, and Emma watched Wheel of Fortune and Dad and Egan set up the air mattress. Emma warily inquired what we needed that for. When I told her I was going to sleep in the study, she lost it. She asked why she was so terrible that I didn’t want to be in the same room with her before running upstairs and slamming my door.
“Sweet pea,” Dad started, but he looked lost. I couldn’t stand to see that look on my Dad’s face—if he was lost, we all were.
“It’s fine,” I interrupted. “She’s just being dramatic.”
As long as she wasn’t dramatic with anything in my room, we’d both get over it.
Dad nodded and left me alone in my new room. I lay on the cold, rubber mattress for a while, just staring at the ceiling. I tried not to think about Smith, but I couldn’t help it. Had he done something wrong? I couldn’t imagine Smith doing anything to hurt anybody. Surely it must have been Enid’s fault. I wondered if Mom and Dad knew what had happened. Would they be harboring Enid if it were her fault? I wasn’t sure about anything my mom and dad might do anymore. It seemed like the principles I’d grown up with had just been thrown out the window. Was everything a lie?
Was God a lie?
The question chilled me completely through. I jumped off the mattress and ran upstairs. I definitely needed some flannel sheets and a blanket. I stopped at the top of the stairs—all the doors were closed and all the lights were off. Everyone was asleep and the linen closet was tucked snugly away in my parents’ bedroom.
I trudged back down the stairs and grabbed the throw off the couch. It took two minutes curled up as tightly as I could on the air mattress before I retreated back to the couch. I was still wearing my jeans and t-shirt, and I wrapped myself in the throw, snuggling down into the overstuffed couch, but it didn’t help.
This was a chill that wasn’t going away.
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