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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.