Why is the Sky Sad?
Silence
“Mister Dumfrey.”
Bea’s voice sounded nervous, a slight Texas twinge coating her words. She referred back to her roots when she felt anxious or was drunk, and sometimes, when it was really bad, she’d even say ya’ll. Her foot was tapping on the ground, tapping…tapping…. Her eyes trying to find a place to land. And No matter what she did they wouldn’t stop. Her feet just kept tapping…tapping and her eyes, searching…searching….
She wanted to say more, some word or phrase that’d keep the uptight man from hating her. But the cat had her tongue and she couldn’t say more than his name and she couldn’t stop her foot from frantically hitting the floor and she couldn’t be his daughter’s perfect friend and-.
“Beatrice.”
Mister Dumfrey, in turn, smiled at the girl- also unsure of how to proceed. He’d only seen her a handful of times in the past two years and all of them had been awkward to say the least. They hadn’t said more than three words to each other, and now that the normal ones had already been exhausted, he couldn’t think of any more.
Bea started tapping her foot to the tune of her favorite song, picking at her nails. She hated Emma for leaving her here; she hated her for putting her in this situation but at the same time she couldn’t blame her.
“Sorry,” she blurted suddenly, much to the surprise of both of the room’s occupants. “Sorry, I- Emma dropped me off and she- as soon as she comes- I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
She looked down at her hands, feeling pathetic. She was so annoyed at herself, with the way she was so awkward with words and still hung over and an utter failure. She was nowhere closer to coming up with a way to distract Emma, nowhere close to helping resolve any issues in anybody’s life. She was an awful friend and an awful person and just overall awful.
Before she knew it, she was sobbing. Bea was not a silent crier. Her shoulders shook, heavy tears streaming from her eyes. She tried speaking over the loud heaves her body made, but Mister Dumfrey couldn’t understand a word she was saying.
“It’s alright,” he mumbled, standing off to the side, arms stiff against his body. “It’s alright.”
It took him a minute to move closer, to put a warm hand on her shoulder, generic words of comfort leaving his cracked lips. And when she was all dried out, he let her hug him, no explanation needed.
It was 7:40 before Bea had the guts to talk again, sitting across from both of Emma’s parents. She stuffed her face with the eggs they had made her, nodding when they asked if it was all right. In truth- she couldn’t even taste it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “It’s just I don’t even know. I feel awful that I haven’t been able to help Emma- and actually be there for her but I don’t think anyone can. I know I’m not the best friend a person can have, I do mean well though. It’s just Marisa’s a touchy subject and I miss Marisa so much, and I know Emma misses her more but-”
Bea noticed that they both froze at their youngest daughter’s name, Mrs. Dumfrey’s hand still on her orange juice glass. Great, excellent, Bea loved when things Marisa tried what she did. This family really sucked at being a family. Emma deserved more.
“Look- I know that Marisa is a sore subject. Believe me I do, and-”
Bea never had a chance to finish her thought out loud, Mister Dumfrey jumping up from his chair, the table clattering, Mrs. Dumfrey’s glass falling on it’s side. He grabbed the keys from the counter.
“C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”
The car ride was silent.
Maria hated being alone.
Richard had left with James over an hour ago and she wasn’t being dispatched until the day was over. She was perfectly fine- only a minor concussion- but she had to wait a full 12 hours until she could be released. They didn’t want her falling asleep. But it didn’t help that she was all alone.
“Maria.” Some nurse poked her head in the door. “Someone’s here to see you, want me to send ‘em in?”
Maria enthusiastically nodded, hoping it was James. Their reunion hadn’t been exactly what she had expected it to be, and he hadn’t welcomed her with completely open arms. She knew he probably wouldn’t, but that didn’t stop her from being extremely disappointed. She was heart broken even though she knew she had no right to be. She had broken his heart- shattered it- and all he was doing was returning the favor.
But, nonetheless, she prayed it was him. She wanted to start somewhere, even if that somewhere was just a few awkwardly spoken words.
“Mrs. MarKent?”
Definitely not James. Maria blinked at the redheaded girl she recognized but couldn’t place.
“Yes?”
She was trying her best to be polite but the disappointment was shared through her eyes. It wasn’t James. He didn’t love her. He didn’t want her to be his mother. It took every ounce of her pathetic strength to keep her tears at bay.
“You’re James’ mom, Richard’s wife right?”
Maria nodded. The girl looked scared, twiddling her thumbs, her eyes flickering from the window to Maria to the bed and back again.
“I-I’ve got to talk to you about something.”
Bea’s voice sounded nervous, a slight Texas twinge coating her words. She referred back to her roots when she felt anxious or was drunk, and sometimes, when it was really bad, she’d even say ya’ll. Her foot was tapping on the ground, tapping…tapping…. Her eyes trying to find a place to land. And No matter what she did they wouldn’t stop. Her feet just kept tapping…tapping and her eyes, searching…searching….
She wanted to say more, some word or phrase that’d keep the uptight man from hating her. But the cat had her tongue and she couldn’t say more than his name and she couldn’t stop her foot from frantically hitting the floor and she couldn’t be his daughter’s perfect friend and-.
“Beatrice.”
Mister Dumfrey, in turn, smiled at the girl- also unsure of how to proceed. He’d only seen her a handful of times in the past two years and all of them had been awkward to say the least. They hadn’t said more than three words to each other, and now that the normal ones had already been exhausted, he couldn’t think of any more.
Bea started tapping her foot to the tune of her favorite song, picking at her nails. She hated Emma for leaving her here; she hated her for putting her in this situation but at the same time she couldn’t blame her.
“Sorry,” she blurted suddenly, much to the surprise of both of the room’s occupants. “Sorry, I- Emma dropped me off and she- as soon as she comes- I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
She looked down at her hands, feeling pathetic. She was so annoyed at herself, with the way she was so awkward with words and still hung over and an utter failure. She was nowhere closer to coming up with a way to distract Emma, nowhere close to helping resolve any issues in anybody’s life. She was an awful friend and an awful person and just overall awful.
Before she knew it, she was sobbing. Bea was not a silent crier. Her shoulders shook, heavy tears streaming from her eyes. She tried speaking over the loud heaves her body made, but Mister Dumfrey couldn’t understand a word she was saying.
“It’s alright,” he mumbled, standing off to the side, arms stiff against his body. “It’s alright.”
It took him a minute to move closer, to put a warm hand on her shoulder, generic words of comfort leaving his cracked lips. And when she was all dried out, he let her hug him, no explanation needed.
It was 7:40 before Bea had the guts to talk again, sitting across from both of Emma’s parents. She stuffed her face with the eggs they had made her, nodding when they asked if it was all right. In truth- she couldn’t even taste it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “It’s just I don’t even know. I feel awful that I haven’t been able to help Emma- and actually be there for her but I don’t think anyone can. I know I’m not the best friend a person can have, I do mean well though. It’s just Marisa’s a touchy subject and I miss Marisa so much, and I know Emma misses her more but-”
Bea noticed that they both froze at their youngest daughter’s name, Mrs. Dumfrey’s hand still on her orange juice glass. Great, excellent, Bea loved when things Marisa tried what she did. This family really sucked at being a family. Emma deserved more.
“Look- I know that Marisa is a sore subject. Believe me I do, and-”
Bea never had a chance to finish her thought out loud, Mister Dumfrey jumping up from his chair, the table clattering, Mrs. Dumfrey’s glass falling on it’s side. He grabbed the keys from the counter.
“C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”
The car ride was silent.
Maria hated being alone.
Richard had left with James over an hour ago and she wasn’t being dispatched until the day was over. She was perfectly fine- only a minor concussion- but she had to wait a full 12 hours until she could be released. They didn’t want her falling asleep. But it didn’t help that she was all alone.
“Maria.” Some nurse poked her head in the door. “Someone’s here to see you, want me to send ‘em in?”
Maria enthusiastically nodded, hoping it was James. Their reunion hadn’t been exactly what she had expected it to be, and he hadn’t welcomed her with completely open arms. She knew he probably wouldn’t, but that didn’t stop her from being extremely disappointed. She was heart broken even though she knew she had no right to be. She had broken his heart- shattered it- and all he was doing was returning the favor.
But, nonetheless, she prayed it was him. She wanted to start somewhere, even if that somewhere was just a few awkwardly spoken words.
“Mrs. MarKent?”
Definitely not James. Maria blinked at the redheaded girl she recognized but couldn’t place.
“Yes?”
She was trying her best to be polite but the disappointment was shared through her eyes. It wasn’t James. He didn’t love her. He didn’t want her to be his mother. It took every ounce of her pathetic strength to keep her tears at bay.
“You’re James’ mom, Richard’s wife right?”
Maria nodded. The girl looked scared, twiddling her thumbs, her eyes flickering from the window to Maria to the bed and back again.
“I-I’ve got to talk to you about something.”