The Loving Silence

Chapter 9

"Have you spoken to him since that day?" Arlo wondered.

Rick's heart beat a little faster. He was trying not to worry, but it usually didn't take this long for him to hear back from his friend. "No... And he hasn't come by the restaurant either."

Arlo bit his lip. "Do you think he's that mad about the vase still?"

"I don't know... But no, this feels different. I don't think this is about that at all.

Rick was being avoided, and though he wasn't the only one, it still stung. On a certain level, he could understand the severity of what his friend had gone through in his short life, but he knew he'd never be able to truly put himself in his shoes.

For one, he didn't have the whole picture. But he also knew that while it's easy to say "I understand," the only way to truly understand is to have lived through it yourself. Or something similar, at least. And though it hadn't been all sunshine and daisies for him, unlike Rue, Rick had had a great childhood, a supportive mother who loved him deeply and a stepfather who saw him as his own. Because he has been so blessed in that area, he felt almost apologetic in front of Rue. Why had he been given so much when Rue had entirely gone without?

He didn't know what to say or do to make his friend feel better. Or if there was anything he could do or say. All he knew was that he cared.

Rick's thoughts came to a halt as they walked up to the apartment building's door. He unlocked it with his key, opened the door, and noticed it wasn't squeaking. He pushed it open with more ease than he was used to and looked inside. But what he saw made him take a step back.

What his friend had been doing for the past two weeks was suddenly self-evident. As the men walked inside, they were met with the smell of wet paint and clay. The walls were all painted, and there was not a single scratch anywhere to be seen. Everything had been mended carefully and meticulously, which made Rick sure that Rue had done it all on his own.

The walls were dark brown with a beige swirly pattern. Delicately and discreetly, there were hints of blue hidden within the carved designs on the staircase, the railing, and the wall border. All of the paintings with frames had received new ones, and they were all hanging straight, so the walls behind them had been filled in and made even. Cast iron candleholders were installed on the walls, and each held an unlit candle.

The fabric details on the steps had been redressed in deep red velvet.

The stone floors had been polished and repaired. Those parts that couldn't be repaired had been replaced with clay and various stones. Had anyone else done the same thing, the result would've looked like something a toddler put together, but this, this was beautiful. Despite the new additions that didn't look like the rest of the floor, there were no uneven surfaces. On top of the carefully placed stones and the clay, a clear, hard surface had been made level with the rest of the floor.

Rick bent down and stroked it gently with the tips of his fingers. It was resin. He knew that because he had seen his friend work with it before. As he sat crouched on the floor, he looked all around him, and he couldn't believe all the work his friend had put down and completed in only two weeks. Alone. He tried not to feel the sting that he hadn't been asked to help, but it wasn't easy. He liked it when people relied on him. Rue especially. Rue not contacting him and then managing to do all this without his help made him feel his friend didn't need him at all. Rationally, he knew he should be happy for his friend and not make all of this about him, but his heart and emotional state weren't all that rational.

"This-This is amazing--" Arlo gasped in complete awe. "Is it real?" he asked aloud, without intending to.

Rick had almost forgotten Arlo was there until he spoke. He got up and shrugged off the wave of emotions he'd just gone through and chuckled. "It is. This is the magic of an artist."