A Quiet Kismet

Chapter Nine

AGE 26

The blanket had definitely seen better days, there were holes in different spots where Jules and I had played too roughly with the old blanket, stains that I was pretty sure Ruby had made when he was a baby, and the color of the blanket had faded as only time would do, but you could still see the large teddy bear holding up three balloons, smiling up at me. Mr.Berry, my constant companion. I even brought him to college and slept with him under my comforter, my constant protector from the things that crawled out at night.

"Long time no see old friend." I smiled through my tears, petting the fabric, surprised that the old blanket was just as soft as I remembered it.

Someone knocked on the door, and I stiffened. I grabbed Mr.Berry, and hugged him close to me as I moved to the door. I reached for the doorknob but stopped short when I heard him.

"Um...are you okay Amelia?" Derek asked, his voice muffled.

I snorted. The obvious answer was no, I was not okay, but that wasn't his problem. I clutched Mr.Berry close to me, and moved over to the door. "Millie?" He repeated in a gentle voice.

I didn't open the door but stood by it. "I'm fine." I lied.

There was a moment's hesitation before he replied. "Do you want to talk? Leo and Ruby are in the backyard cleaning up the trash from the party."

"Hold on," I said before I could think. Then I unlocked the door and cracked it open, unsure if he was really alone. When I saw him in the hallway, peering down at me as if I was some trampled baby doe, I wanted to slam it in his face and cry at the same time. I hated pity. It was such a wasted emotion. No one in the history of the world wanted to be pitied. I should slam this door in his face, but instead I opened the door, and let him in.

Misery did love company.

"Listen, I heard you arguing with your mom-"

"Yeah, you and the whole neighborhood. We weren't exactly trying to keep our voices down." I laughed dryly, my throat burning.

Derek shut the door and moved around me to sit at my old desk. The wooden seat creaked under him. Signs of aging and lack of use. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I raised my eyebrow, preparing a scathing comment when I remembered the truce. "Are your parents still married?" I asked, remembering how close they were growing up. I was always envious of Derek's family. He had a lot of siblings like me, and two parents who loved each other, unlike me.

"Yeah they are."

"Good." I said instead of explaining that he could never understand what it felt like to be pulled apart at the seams when a marriage ends in such a horrible and sudden way.

In divorces, the kids usually choose one parent and blame the other for the dissolution of the family. The obvious answer for us was Ruben, but Mom wasn't that great either. While Ruben's vice was drinking, Moms' was lack of caring. I know she loved us, I know because she stayed. But sometimes I wonder if she stayed because we were her kids and she loved us, or because Ruben had left first and she was stuck.

I loved Mom, but sometimes that felt like it was more out of respect and obligation than it was out of affection. Is that horrible? Probably. Life was like that, and I had a feeling Derek would never understand that.

"You're deflecting." He said,

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, you're a psychiatrist now?"

He laughed, and rubbed his chin. "I took a psyche class once. It was a weird course, but I picked up on some things. Like just right now, I asked a direct question, and you deflected by asking about my parents. Now if I would have stayed in that class a little longer, I could determine that this has something to do with your parents since you asked about mine."

I narrowed my eyes at him and chucked a pillow at his face, unfortunately he caught it. I rolled my eyes and threw myself on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. The ceiling had our green hand prints on it. When Mom saw it, she almost killed us. You could tell which hands were which. Julia had long slender fingers, and mine were more childlike. Baby hands, she used to tease me.

"Okay doc, diagnose me." I quipped.

"Extreme case of pain in my ass." He shot back. "Must be treated immediately with doses of humble pie."

"Gross pie. Do we have humble cake instead?" I asked, propping my head up. Derek shook his head and smiled at me.

"How could you not like pie?"

I shrugged, "I can't explain it, I just don't like the taste of it. Anyway, the real question is, do we have cake here?"

"Deflecting." He sang. "So what's really going on? Is it your dad again?"

I looked away and draped Mr.Berry over me now, poking at the hole he had near his left eye. I hate that he knew Ruben was a hot button for me. "Yeah. My mom was upset about the way I treated him. She heard everything apparently, and was worried that Ruben would judge her parenting skills. Which is dumb." I rolled my eyes, getting annoyed all over again.

"You did sound like an ass when you were talking to him." Derek pointed out, then stopped short to shrug at me.

"You would be too if he was your dad." I shot back. "Look, you grew up with parents who loved each other. They put you guys first, and it was picturesque. My family wasn't like that.