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      “What?”heasked,tryingunsuccessfullytoquashthehostilityinhis voice.

      “TellKristyI'msorry.Ididn'tdothistohurtanyofyou.Iknowyou seemtohaveforgottenthatinyourquestfortruth,butI'mavictiminall ofthis,Alan.Mattywasmyfriend.Ilovedhim,andIknowfordamn surethathelovedmetoo.Trynottoforgetthatwhenyou'repainting horriblescenariosinyourheadofwhatyouthinkwentdownthatnight."

      Withoutanotherword,Iwalkedaroundthetableandstraightoutthe door.Ididn'twaitforaresponsefromhim.Ididn'twantone.

      Nearlyinanall-outrunbythetimeIgotdownstairs,Iquicklymade mywaypastAliceatthefrontdeskbeforeshebuzzedmeout.Through thedoubledoorsanddowntheflightofconcretestepsoutside,Ifledto theTTthatsatidling,waitingformyarrival.Ipracticallytorethe passengerdooroffbeforeIjumpedinandslammeditbehindme.

      “Soundslikethatwentwell,”Cooperobservedwithhistypical sarcasm.

      “Drive,”Ibarked,notwantingtogetintoit.

      “Anothercheeryhomecoming?”

      “Exactly.”

      “DoyouwantsomemoregoodnewsorshouldIsaveitforlater?”

      heasked,losingsomeofhismockingtone.

      “Fuck. Whatnow?”

      “Iwasreadingthepaperwhileyouwereinthere,”hestarted, shiftinguncomfortablyinhisseatbeforepullingintotraffic."Mattywas inthere―intheobituaries.Doyouwantto―”

      “No!”Ishouted,puttingmyarmupdefensivelyashereached betweentheseatsforthepaper.“Idon'twanttoseeit."Itookamoment tocatchmybreathbeforecontinuing.“I'msorry.Ididn'tmeantoyellat you.Isthatthegoodnewsyouspokeof?”

      “No,”hesaidplainly.

      “Justlayitonme,Cooper.Please.”

      “Itsaidthathisfuneralistomorrow.InBoston.” Fuckme.“What areyougoingtodo?”heasked,eyeingmeoutofhisperiphery.

      “Idon'tknow...”

      “Icouldgodownwithyou,ifyouwanttogo.”

      “No,”Isaidabruptly.“That'ssomethingIneedtodoonmyown.”

      Hepressedhislipstogetherfirmlyinahalffrown.

      “There'safreakstormcomingupthecoast.It'sgoingtobebrutal.”

      “I'vedriveninsnowbefore,Cooper.I'llbefine,”Ireplied,staring offtowardsmyapartmentasweroundedthefinalcornerontheway home."I'mnotsurewhatIwanttodoyet.I'mgoingtosleeponitfirst.”

      “Whateveryouthinkisbest.”Cooperparkedthecarinfrontofthe shopandwesimultaneouslygotout.“Goupstairs,”heordered,throwing methekeys.“I'vegottadosomethingintown.Gohaveanap.I'llbe homeinafew.”

      InoddedsilentlyanddidasIwastold.

      Onceinsidethemaindoor,Ischleppedmywearybodyupthestairs totheapartment.Exhausteddidn'tevenbegintodescribehowdrainedI felt.Iclosedthedoorbehindmeandshuffleddownthehalltomy bedroom,floppingdownontothebedthesecondIreachedit.Cooper wantedmetogetsomerest,andthatwasexactlywhatIwasgoingtodo.

      *

      HourslaterIawoketodarknesssurroundingmeandashrillbeeping soundsomewhereinmyroom.Disorientedandstartled,Ifumbledmy wayoutofmybedinapaniconlytocrashintothenight-standbymy bed.Inmyhalf-awakestate,IhadnoideawhereIwas.

      “Cooper!”Iyelled,tryingtocontrolmyrisingunease.

      Asalways,hewasbymysideinaflash.

      “What'swrong?”heaskedasheflippedonthebedsidelamp.It illuminatedtheconcernonhisface.

      “Therewasasound,andIjumpedoutofbedtoseewhatitwas,but thenIranintothefurniture...anditwassodark,andI...I...,"Irambled, feelingincreasinglyridiculous.“Ididn'tknowwhereIwas.”

      Hescoopedmeupinhisarmsandhuggedmetighttohischest.

      “You're home,”hewhisperedsoftly.“That'swhereyouare.For good.”

      AndIwas.Goodorbad,dramaornot,IwasfinallybackwhereI belonged.Iwelcomedthefeeling.

      “Soundsperfecttome,”Isaid,smiling.

      “Good.Nowwhatthehellwasthissoundthatwokeyouupinsucha tizzyanyway?”

      Ipulledawayfromhimtosearchtheroomforthemostlikely suspect.Ifounditlyingonthetablethathadtakenachunkoutofmyleg onlymomentsearlier.Myinnocent-lookingcellphonelookedatmy laughingly.Atexthadbeenthecauseofmynearmeltdown.

      “Myphonemusthavegoneoff,”Ireplied,walkingovertoretrieve it.IwassurprisedbywhatIsaw―amessagefromAlan: Filledoutthe properpaperworkregardingyourreappearance.BPDhasbeennotified aswell.It'llbeonthenewsthisevening.Bepreparedforthebacklash.

      I'msorryabouttoday.Talklater.

      “Somuchformyquietreentrytolife,”Imumbledtomyself.“I guessIwon'thavetocalltheCarmilostotellthemI'maliveand coming.”Icouldn’tkeepthedrynessoutofmytone.

      “Why'sthat?”

      “BecauseI'mabouttobebreakingnews.Alanspreadtheword aboutmyreturn.”

      “Well,”hesaid,scratchinghishead.“Hedidn'treallyhaveachoice, andinfairness,thatcathadtobeletoutofthebagatsomepoint.Guess nowisasgoodatimeasany."

      “Iguessso,”Imutteredtomyself,gettinguptogointotheliving roomandhunkerdownfortherestoftheevening.Iwantedtocrawlinto acaveandhide,butI'dalreadydonethatforthreeweeks,metaphorically speaking.

      “Whereareyougoing?”heasked,followingbehindme.

      “Idon'twanttomissthebigstory,”Irepliedsarcastically.“Ithink I'llmakeastiffdrinkfortheshow."

      “Bettermaketwo,then.Can'thaveyoudrinkingalone...”

      IscoffedasIenteredthekitchen,Alan'swordsrunningrampant throughmymind.

      Bepreparedforthebacklash...

      Thestoryofmylife.

      6

      Therehadn'tbeenaNor'easterlikethatinNewEnglandfordecades.

      Twentyinchesofsnowwasforecasttopummelthecoastlinefromthe Providenceareaup,butonlyafteraninchoffreezingrainlaidthe foundationfortreacherousroadconditions.Justastheweathermanhad predicted,itwastheperfectstorm.

      WhileIdrovetoBoston,signsofthatstormwerealreadyvisible, theweathersteadilydeteriorating.Alongwithitwentmyresolve.Ihad dreadedthatday,fiercely.

      Duringthetimethecommuteprovided,Ireflectedonthingsthat onlydeepenedmysadness—mysenseofloss.Thoughtsofthehours MattyandIhadspenttogetherindanceclass,jokingaroundinsteadof payingattention,clowningourwaythroughchoreography,andstopping forfoodafterward.Histwenty-secondbirthdaypartyathisparents'house wasoneofmyfavorites.Ilovedhisfamily,andtheytookmeinlikeI wasoneoftheirown.

      Carmen...Dominic...

      ThepaininmychestwasexcruciatingwhenIthoughtofthem.

      They'dalreadylostonesonbythetimeIhadmetMatty,and,becauseof me,theywouldburyanother.Ididn'tknowhowIcouldfacethem.

      IflewpastexitsontheinterstatewhileIdrove,and,beforeI realizedwhatIwasdoing,Itookoneofthem,turningoffthehighwayin anattempttoloopbackontoittoretreatnorth.Ipulledintoagasstation beforemycowardicefullytookoverandtriedtopullmyselftogether.

      Myhandsshookuncontrollably,andnomatterhowhardIgrippedthe wheel,itdidnothingtoquashthequaking.

      LayingMattytorestwasnotsomethingIwantedtobeapartof.

      ThethreeweeksI’dspenttuckedawayinScarlet'smindhadofferedmea certainescapefromreality.Thoughtheeventsthathadoccurredonthe nightofMatty'smurderplayedthroughmymindrepeatedly,Icould detachfromthembecauseIhadn'tfacedtheaftermath.Thefinalvision ofMatty'sdecapitatedbodyshouldhaveclearlyillustratedthathewas gone,butitdidn't.

      Buryingwhatremainedofhimwould.

      Itookmultiple
    deepbreathsbeforeputtingthecarbackingear, drivingofftowardstheentrancerampforI-93South.Therainwasfalling harderandthetemperatureplummetedasIdrove.Funeralornot,the worstofthestormwouldn'tholdoffforlong.Myemotionscouldn'tbe heldbackforevereither,andIwassuddenlyinahurrytogetthewhole ordealoverwith.

      Ithoughtaboutwatchingfromafar,hiddenbytreesorheadstones nearby,soIcouldavoidtheonslaughtofgriefIwassuretobe bombardedwith.Itwascowardly,butIwascertainthat,whenfacedwith thetotalityofmyowngrief,Iwouldcrumbleundertheweightof anythingelse.Mattywasalwayssostrong,bothphysicallyand emotionally.Iselfishlywishedforhisstrengthinthatmoment.IfI couldn'tbestrong,thenIwouldatleastbehonorableandbearmypain publicly,forallwholovedhimtosee.Itwasbymyactionsthathewas abouttobeputsixfeetunder,andIowedittohimtobethere.

      Carsthicklylinedthestreetonbothsides,forcingmetoparknearly ablockaway.Ihaddressedfortheunseasonablecold,butnotthe freezingrain.Myblackstilettosofferedlittlestabilityontheicy walkways,andIteeteredmywayacrossthestreettothemainentranceof thecemetery.

      “Healwayssaidyouhadimpeccablefashionsense,”avoicecalled tomefrominsidethewroughtirongates.Amanaroundthirtyrounded thecorner,headedinmydirection.Hewasdifficulttomakeoutatfirst throughtheassaultingrain,butonceIwascloser,Isawthatitwasoneof Matty'sbrothers-in-law.

      “IguessIdidn'treviewtheweatherasthoroughlyasIshouldhave beforeIleft,”Isaid,walkingtowardshisextendedhand.

      “Letmehelpyou,”hesaid,placingmyhandinthecrookofhis foldedarm.“Ihadtorunbacktothecarforanotherumbrella.Rosa's didn'tholdupwellwiththewind.”Ilookedupattheflimsy,travel-sized oneIheldandprayeditwouldmanagetheweather.“Isawyouonthe newslastnight,”hesaidsoftly,uncertainastowheretotakehis observationafterthat.

      “IwasgoingtocallCarmen...”

      “Shewaselated,Ruby.She'llbesogladtoseeyoualiveand well...evenifshecan'tseeMatty.”Histonewassomber,andIfought againstthegrowingsorrowhefelt.Wewereawkwardlyquietafterthatas wemadeourwaythroughthecemetery.Ieventuallylostmybattleand hisenergypenetratedme,addingtomycloudofgrowingsadness.Hehad lovedMattylikealittlebrother.Thatwasplain.

      Aswenearedtheplot,Inoticedtheseaofblackencirclingit.My heartskipped,realizingwhatwasinthecenterofthatsea,andtheendof mydenialwasofficial―tearsspilledontomycheekseffortlessly.

      Withoutskippingabeat,myescortofferedmeatissue,whichIgladly took.Ihadleftmypurseinthecar,notwantingtocarrythatandan umbrellainthelikelyeventthatIwouldfallandhavenofreehandsto catchmyselfwith.ItalsoleftmewithoutmystockpileofKleenex.

      “Thanks,”Isaid,sniffling.

      “I'vegottenreallygoodathavingthoseonme,”hesaidsoberly.

      “Therehaven'tbeenalotofdryeyesinmyhouselately.”

      Justthen,hewascalledawaybyhiswife,leavingmetodealwith themetaphoricalknifehe'djustplungedintomyside.Icausedthose tears.Ibroughtthatsorrowonhiswife.Hischildren.

      Iwantedtorunbacktothecarandhide,butinstead,Ifounda stationneartherearofthemassivecrowd.Mattyalwaysjokedabouthow expensivehisweddingwouldbeonedaybecausehisfamilywasso enormous.BasedonwhatIsaw,hewasn'tkidding;therewereeasilytwo hundredpeopleinattendance.Ididmybesttoblendintothebackground, butImadeapointedefforttobesureIcouldseehiscasket.Forsome reason,seeingiteasedmypainratherthanintensifiedit.

      ThesermonwasdoneentirelyinItalian,leavingmeunableto follow,butthebeautyofthepriest’swordswasapparent,regardless.The priestsangasMattywasloweredintohisfinalrestingplace,hiswords travelingsoclearlythroughtheair.Ifeltcarriedawaybythem,then realizedthatIwasactuallywalkingforwardtowardthegraveonguided feet.IsworeIcouldactuallyfeelMatty'sarmaroundmyshoulders, guidingmetowardshim―hisrestingplace.WhenIfinallystopped,Iwas standingrightnexttohismother,whosecriessnappedmebacktoreality.

      ForyearsIhadbeeninfluencedbytheemotionsofothers,but nothingbeforehadevercomeclosetotherawnessthatshefeltinthat moment.Mykneesbuckled,andIfelluponthembesideher,takingher handinmine.Physicalcontactonlyintensifiedourconnection,butitwas whatsheneededandthepunishmentIdeserved,soIstayedwhereIwas, weatheringherstorm.

      Ilookedupatthefacesaroundme,redandtear-stained,and reachedoutfortheirenergies―allofthem.Takingitallonatoncewas masochistic,butpainhadatippingpointforme,allowingittobecome welcomeandwarming.Inthatmoment,Iwas sothere.

      Therestofthefuneralwasablur.Someonehelpedmetomyfeetat theend,andIwasengulfedbytheswarmofpeopletryingtopaytheir respectstoMatty'sparents.Emotionallyexhaustedfromtheordeal,I triedtomakemywayoutofthemobandbacktomycar.Ihaddropped myumbrellasomewhereinmyjourneytojoinMatty'smombythegrave, soIwasleftexposedtothefreezingrainthatviciouslypeltedmewiththe gustingwind.

      Iwrappedmyarmstightlyaroundmystomachandtriedtoescape asquicklyasIpossiblycould.Myheelsrepeatedlysunkintothewetsod, eventuallyleavingmewithnochoicebuttotakethemofforsuffera sprainedankle.Myblack-stockingedfeetwerefrozeninstantly,causing metobreakintoajogthroughthecenturies-oldheadstones,barelyable toseethroughtheveilofprecipitationaroundme.

      OnceIlocatedtheentrancegates,Istartedtorunfullout,butIwas nolongerjustrunningfromtheelements.IwasrunningfromMattyand theemptinessIfeltwithouthim.

      Inaflash,Iwasnolongerrunningatall.Instead,Iwassprawledout ontheconcretewalkway,hosierytorn,coatripped,kneesandhands bleeding.Inmyhaste,Ihadoverlookedasmallgravemarker,snagging mytoeonit.ItwasaclassicRubymove.IhopedthatsomewhereMatty washavingachuckleatmyexpense.

      Imanagedtoprymyselfoffthegroundandlocatemyshoesthat hadflownthroughtheairduringmyfall.Soakingwetandcompletely disheveled,Idecidedtowalktherestofthewaytothecar.Itseemedthe safestgameplan.

      AsIapproachedthegates,Iheardavoicecallingmynamebehind me.IturnedtoseeMatty'smother,Carmen,hurryingcarefullytowards me.Myheartsankinstantly.Offeringhersupportwasonething,having tofaceherdirectlywasanother.Eveninmyfrozencondition,Icouldfeel thesweatbeadalongmyneck,rollingslowlyintothebackofmyblack cashmeresweater-dress.

      “Ruby!”shecalledonelasttimebeforeIacknowledgedher.

      “Carmen...,”Istarted,unsureofwhattosay.“I'm...I'msosorry.”

      Thatwasallittook.Ichokedonthelastword,unabletospeakfurther.

      “Iknow,Ruby,”shesaid,pullingmeintoacrushinghug.“My baby'sgone.He's gone. Butyou'restillhere...Mattywouldbesohappyto knowyou'reallright. ” Hersobscameviolently,bodyconvulsingwiththe purgingemotions.“MygirlsareallIhaveleftnow,”sheeventually addedaftergainingsomeamountofcomposure.“Howdidthishappen?

      HowcouldsomebodytakemyMattyfromme?Fromyou?”sheasked, hereyessearchingminewildlyforanswers.

      Ifeltfaint,thinkingthatIwasgoingtopassoutforcertain,right thereinfrontofher. Ihadtheanswersshesought.

      “Helovedyou,Ruby.Morethanyouprobablyevenknew,”shesaid softly.“Youwereallhetalkedaboutfromthemomentyouwalkedinto thatfirstclasswiththecompany.Hemarveledateverythingaboutyou forthelongesttime.Wejokedthathehadacrushonyou,whichseemed tobeexactlywhatitwasinthebeginning,butthensomethingchanged.It becamemorethanafascinationwithsomebodywhowasmoretogether thanthegirlshe'ddatedinthepast;heknewyoutwowererightforeach other.Afteryourfirstperformancetogether,hecamehomeandtoldus allthathe
    hadfoundthegirlhewasgoingtomarryoneday.Shejust didn'tknowityet...”

      Shetookmybleedinghandsinhers,herexpressionbecomingfar moreseriousagain.

      “Thenewsreportsaidthatyoucouldn'trememberanythingabout thatnight,Ruby,aboutwhathappenedtoMatty,”shesaid,movingin dangerouslyclosetomyface.Icouldn'tbreathe.Iwassoafraidofwhat shewasgoingtosaynextthatIstoodfrozen.“Regardlessofwhat occurred,Iamcertainthathewouldbegladtoknowthathislast momentswerespentdefendingyou.”

      Mykneesweakened,butthankstomygriponCarmen,Imanaged tostayupright.Isawtherestofherfamilyoffinthedistance,headedour direction,andIpanicked.HavingallofthemengulfmewasmorethanI couldbear.

      “Carmen,I...Ihavetogo,”Isaid,chokingbackasob.

      “He lovedyou,Ruby,”sherepeated.“Pleasedon'teverforgetthat.

      Hewantedyoutobepartofourfamilyoneday.”

      Itriedtopullmyhandsfree,butthemiddle-agedwoman'sgripwas likeavise.Istartedtobackaway,butsheresisted,pullingmecloser.

      “You arefamily,Ruby.Youhavebeenfromthefirsttimewemet you,”shesaid,huggingmeonelasttime.“That'swhatMattywouldwant.

      Weloveyoutoo,Ruby.”

      Itriedtoreturnhersentiment,butitcameoutsostrainedand strangledthatI'mnotsuresheunderstood.Ididn'tstickaroundlong enoughtofindout,turningtofleetheinstantsheletmego.Ittookonly secondstobreakthroughtheentrancegatesoutontothesidewalkinmy stockingedfeet.MomentarilyforgettingwhereIhadparked,Iscanned thestreetfortheTT,whichwasvirtuallyuselessgiventhedensityofthe sleetfallingrapidlyaroundme.

      OnceIdeterminedwhereIneededtogo,Icontinuedrunningdown thestreettomycar.Ineededtogetoutofthecold,outoftheelements, andawayfromMatty'sfamilybeforetheycouldunknowinglyinflictany morepain.

     


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