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chapter fourteen the next right thing
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"ARMS UP," Joyce said softly, a pink shirt in her hands. "Come on, Rue,"
Rue sat on her bed with a towel around her body. Her hair was dark and dripping, and water droplets still lingered on her soft skin. Joyce had helped her take a shower to clean up and take care of her.
Staring at the carpet, Rue lifted her arms, letting Joyce put the shirt on her as if she were a baby. Rue felt drained. She didn't have any energy in her to do the simplest things such as showering or getting dressed.
Joyce finished by adding pink, orange, and white socks as the final touch after helping Rue put on a pair of comfy pants. She stood up from kneeling and hesitated for a moment before walking towards one of her drawers, where she pulled out a large navy blue sweater.
She held it close for a moment, feeling the soft fabric before turning to Rue, who had her head down low, swinging her feet by the edge of the bed.
"Here," Joyce put the sweater over her head.
Rue stiffened for a moment, and her lips quivered as tears threatened to spill. "It still smells like him," she said in a tiny voice.
Joyce nodded, sitting next to her. She wrapped a blanket over their shoulders and then brought Rue under her motherly wing. "Yeah, it still does," she smiled, "He left it, and I guess I never gave it back."
