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But those were long since managed, and now they didn’t talk about it, because they didn’t have to.
But Ruby... Ruby was giving her big, sad eyes that made Lydia want to yell at her.
Because Ruby hadn’t been here for the last six months. She’d come for the funeral and gone back to school and then on to England, and now she was standing there expectantly when Lydia just wanted to have dinner after a long day.
“How are you?”
“Not fragile,” Lydia said, harder than she’d intended.
Ruby’s eyes widened a fraction. “Okay. That’s good to know.”
Ruby bent down and scooped Hazel up, kissing her dark hair. Hazel looked so joyous and carefree, and for a moment, Lydia was frozen by a deep sense of jealousy. Jealousy that her daughter could feel happiness like that.
Jealousy that for a moment Hazel didn’t have to feel burdened by reality.
Great. You’re a wonderful mother, Lydia. You resent your daughter’s happiness.Yoursix-year-old child’s happiness.
She walked into her parents’ house, and she did her best to leave some of her angst behind. She just needed to get her head on straight and to be in the moment, because all of her problems would still be waiting for her when she got back.
When she walked in, the scent of pot roast enveloped her, and her sisters were already seated at the table. And in that moment she felt alone in this room full of people because no one really knew her. Not anymore. No one understood this.
She didn’t even understand.
She took a breath and fixed a small smile to her face. “Is there something I can help with, Mom?”
“We have it all ready,” her mom said, waving a hand, which, as far as Lydia knew, meant that her mother wasn’t allowing anyone to pitch in.
So Lydia ignored her and elbowed her way into the tiny kitchen area, going ahead and stirring the pot of gravy on the stove. Then she transferred the rolls to a basket, and set them at the center of the table, pouring the gravy into her mother’s cream-colored gravy boat imprinted with geese wearing heart charms and blue ribbons.
She helped put a matching set of plates on the table, and by the time she was finished with that, dinner was served.
“Did you kill the fatted calf?” Dahlia asked from her position down at the end of the table, and Lydia’s lips twitched.
Ruby might not exactly be the prodigal, but it was a close enough approximation.
“Yes,” her dad said. “Afterward we will be gifting your sister a coat of many colors.”
“Wrong Bible story, Dad,” Dahlia said.
“Oh, so you do remember the Scriptures?” He shot a wink at Dahlia, who was giving him a mock glare.
And on that note, her father took hold of Lydia’s hand, and Marianne’s, which was the cue for everyone else at the table to join hands and bow their heads. He said a brief grace, and Lydia realized that she hadn’t been paying attention to it at all, and when he said amen, it didn’t echo inside her at all.
She wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with God at the moment.
She shoved that thought aside and busied herself fixing plates for her children, cutting up the meat and potatoes into small pieces, which earned her an indignant look from Riley.
Her niece and nephew, Marianne’s children, had dished out their own plates, and she could see the future right in front of her. When her kids would be a little bit more self-sufficient, and she felt guilty for wanting to speed up time.
You weren’t supposed to want that. You were supposed to enjoy these years. But these had just been some of the worst years. And it wasn’t her kids’ fault, but she was tired and she needed help.
You have help.
Well, it wasn’t the help she’d asked for. Or the help she wanted. Her husband had gotten sick and it had ruined everything.
Thankfully, with her entire family around the table, conversation flowed easily, and she didn’t have to contribute much to it.
“Do you kids want to get into the board games?”
