Low Battery
By the time we got all three wardrobe updates done for the kids, I was... exhausted. I had the uncomfortable realization that I had not spent this amount of time with anyone other than my kids in...
I couldn't even remember the last time.
Even worse, we still had the bonfire to go to... but by this point, I was well aware of the fact that as a mom, I had to go. Collin needed to see just how normal he was. He needed to see that not the entire world was against him for something he had absolutely no control over.
"What about you?" Ivy asked, as we were leaving the "Kids' Clothes R Us" store.
"Oh," I said, feeling horribly awkward. "I just need a new jacket."
Even with discounts and Jade's ability to hunt out a bargain, I was functioning off of just this first stipend. I hadn't started work yet, and my funds hadn't been great to begin with. Additions to my wardrobe just weren't in the cards.
"Come on," Ivy said, looking skeptical. "I saw what was in your closet. You need a refresh."
I shrugged. "Maybe next time. My jacket's the thing that needs to be replaced the most."
"But you should look nice for the bonfire," Ivy pressed. "You know, first day back and everything."
"Just a jacket," I said again, feeling my anxiety rising in my chest.
Ivy opened her mouth to argue with me, but Jade came to my rescue, suddenly grabbing her shoulder and squeezing. She smiled at me.
"We can always do more retail therapy next time," she said. "We'll come together. It's not therapy if we're doing all of the shopping in one day- then there's no reason to come back."
"Wha-" Ivy started, but I quickly took her lead.
"Yeah, exactly," I said. "Just a jacket, or a sweater. This'll be much more boring, honestly, if you guys want to take off."
"No, we-"
"Yeah," Jade said, squeezing Ivy's shoulder again. "We've got some setup to do, anyway. Aegis doesn't have a Luna, so you know, a lot of that stuff tends to fall on my shoulders." She rolled her eyes. "Guy's a brick when it comes to his own needs."
"But-" Ivy tried again, deflating.
"We've got to go," Jade said pointedly, already dragging her back toward the cars. "We have stuff to talk about, anyway."
Ivy gave me a look that was heavily reminiscent of a kicked puppy, but said nothing as Jade led her away. Despite the fact that Ivy could probably bench press my car now, Jade was likely still three times stronger, even in her fancy outfit and her paper-thin stilettos. She was tall, she was wiry and lean, and she was a werewolf, after all.
"You okay, mom?" Dylan came up on one side of me.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Yeah. Just tired."
"You could go shopping some more, if you want," Lucy said, though she rubbed at her eyes. "I don't wanna keep you from your friends, Mama."
"No, no, it's not that, honey bun," I said, smiling down at her. "I'm out of practice when it comes to socializing."
"We don't have to go to the bonfire," Collin suggested, and there was unmistakable hope in his voice.
"No, we do," I groaned. "I wish we could just stay home, maybe make some popcorn, watch some old movies... but we can't. This is something we have to do."
"Maybe Annie'll be there," Dylan said, grinning and elbowing Collin in the side.
"Dude, shut up," Collin snapped, and there was an undercurrent of growl in his voice. He immediately looked dismayed.
"It's fine, honey," I tried to remind him. "Come on. I think this thrift store had something I could use. I just want to get home, before we have to go be social again."
----
I ended up going with a surprisingly cute bomber jacket, one of those ones with faux leather and faux fur that made it the perfect amount of warm. It was stylishly oversized, and had intricate, beautiful embroidery on the back to look like fall leaves.
Perfect.
Even if the rest of my wardrobe couldn't be updated, I now had this larger piece to make up for it.
"That's actually pretty cool," Dylan commented, watching as it got packaged away.
"And for like, a quarter of the cost you'd pay for it brand new," I said happily.
"Will you ever be able to buy stuff without having to save?" Lucy asked. "You never get new stuff. It's always us."
I felt the twins looking at me, and I shrugged. "I don't need new stuff," I said. "I stopped growing ages ago. If anything, I think I'm shrinking."
"Cuz you never eat," I heard Dylan mutter, but I chose to ignore that.
"Come on," I said. "Back to the car. We can get home, get changed, and relax for like two hours before we head out. Might even take a nap," I added, liking the idea more and more.
"We can play video games," Lucy sang happily. "Or play dolls. I have stories to tell."
"Honey bun, I shudder to think what will happen in Dollville."
"I'm afraid to ask," Dylan said, actually shuddering.
The drive back was almost peaceful. The relief of the outing being over was weighed down by my guilt. When did I change so drastically? Ivy was my best friend, and now I feel like I barely know her... and she barely knows me. We aren't on the same wavelength anymore. Every time we talk, it feels like we're butting heads like a couple of rams...
I knew she was disappointed in me. There was a sense of bitter relief in that, knowing that I'd at least gotten the one failure I'd feared the most out of the way. Now everyone else can find out just how far I've fallen, I thought bitterly.
It was hard not to think this way, even if I knew it was very doomsday/self-fulfilling. I wasn't stupid; I was my own worst enemy right now. I was digging a hole that I couldn't climb out of.
But I was nearly thirty. I had three kids. Maybe two of those were because of the untimely death of my sister, but Lucy... Lucy was the product of my own foolish stupidity. I didn't regret her for an instant, but I did regret now being more discerning about the guy I'd been with. My pregnancy had been such an exciting moment for me, the future opening up with possibilities... and while I fervently believed I was meant to have her, I just... wished I'd been smarter about who I'd had her with.
I was so eager to prove to myself that I didn't need Werewolf Hollow. I wanted so badly to be able to make a life outside of my childhood home, to prove that I never had to come back here and try to be someone I wasn't anymore, to never have to see things moving on without the people I'd loved the most... and I failed. I failed hard. Now, Lucy had no father, and I was struggling to get by with three kids. All three of them should've had the world.
I knew I wasn't giving them everything they deserved, either. Gifts from Rudy helped fill in the gaps, but some birthdays had been horribly baren, compared to their friends... and I'd felt it. The pain of wanting so badly to give the world to your kids, who would only be kids for so small a percentage of their lives... and not being able to...
It hurt. It hurt worse than even losing my family.
Maybe that's what I didn't want anyone to see. I didn't want them to see how badly I was failing my kids. My choices, my stupidity, my foolishness had cost them the happy home they all deserved...
"Mom," Dylan called out, and I startled out of the deep, depressive hole my thoughts had become.
"Yeah?"
"We're home," he said, and I realized we were parked in the driveway.
"You okay?" Collin asked, frowning.
"Yeah." I rubbed my face and unbuckled myself. "How's Lu?"
"Passed out cold," Dylan commented. "I can get her out of the car, Mom, you go lie down."
"No, I-"
"We got it," Collin added, hopping out and moving around. "I've got a higher body temperature now, dude, let me carry her."
"Hang on, hang on," Dylan insisted. "You're also a clumsy idiot with knives for fingers, so let me get her out, and then you can carry her."
"Tell me how you really feel," Collin muttered.
I watched them for a moment, my heart twisting. Dylan was very carefully unbuckling all of the sleeping Lucy's belts, even if she looked like not even the second coming of Christ could have woken her up.
"Go," Collin said, realizing I was still there. "Go sleep. Seriously."
I chuckled and turned, walking into the house. A small part of me was proud; a larger part was guilty. I wasn't hiding things as well as I usually did.
Rudy was seated on the couch, looking as deeply pensive as I felt. He looked up when I walked in.
"Enjoying your vacation?" I asked jokingly, though it came out more strained than I'd intended.
"Somewhat," he sighed, leaning forward. "You look tired."
"Turns out, I'm not so good at socializing anymore."
He grinned. "Like everything in this world, it takes practice, kiddo. You'll get there."
I looked at him for a second, and it seemed like every time I did, he got older. More lines, more care, more exhaustion.
Had he always looked like this? Surely not so, although the last time I'd really seen him was... a decade ago. It was hard to remember that period of time, when the twins were newborns, and I was struggling to get all my T's crossed and my I's dotted...
"Rudy," I asked, coming to stand next to the couch. "What happened to you?"
A strange, cool mask fell over his face. He turned to look straight ahead.
"What do you mean?"
"It's been ten years," I said quietly. "I know you've been looking out for us. I know you've been following along, to make sure we're okay. I know you've been filling in, where I wasn't able to make do."
"That was never the point."
"No. But something happened, didn't it?"
He looked ahead, stared with unseeing eyes, before giving one great, big shudder. I knew exactly what it meant.
Something terrible happened to him.
"Maybe later," he said, pushing up. "You need sleep, and this is a conversation that won't help." He smiled at me. "I'll make some food for the kids. They like mac and cheese?"
"Dylan does, Collin doesn't," I said, somewhat disappointed. "Lucy's asleep, but she'd normally wipe out an undead army for a chance at some mac and cheese."
Rudy chuckled. "Say no more. I'll get some ready for them. I'm sure they're all tuckered out, too. You go get some rest."
I hesitated, but decided that it was time to go. I walked on, but turned to look back at Rudy one last time. He was standing in the kitchen, staring out the window into the world beyond, and there, written on his face, was an expression I knew all too well.
Grief.
I have had my head in the sand, I thought, turning to walk up the stairs. I probably missed signs... so many signs. I was drowning; too incapable to look past the next five minutes to see the people around me. Even the invisible ones.
I just hoped that Rudy wasn't trying to tie up loose ends with my family, because if he was... if he was...
I resolved to keep a closer eye on him.
As I climbed into bed, I slipped out my broken phone to set an alarm- three, even, because I was determined not to miss the bonfire. I saw, much to my surprise, a single text from Aegis, whose number I had saved earlier.
I sat up, frowning, and unlocked my phone to take a look. There were only a few words, but they stirred up a whole void of memories I wasn't ready to face yet.
Aegis: You're doing just fine. You'll be okay.