Light in the Shadows

life could be so cruel.  Ruby didn’t deserve the grief she was feeling.  There were millions of people who lived their fucked up lives, never lifting a finger to help anyone else.  But a woman who had put her life on hold to save mine was suffering.  It made me want to hit something. 
                  “Sorry,” Ruby murmured, finally getting into the car.  She sat numbly, looking out of the window as I pulled into beltway traffic.  We didn’t talk.  Not a word.  I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be than with Ruby right now.  But God, that selfish part of me wanted to run for the hills.
                    The weight of our mutual grief was suffocating.  “Have you eaten any dinner?” I asked, trying to prod some sort of conversation out of my silent aunt.  She shook her head.
                    “I’m not hungry,” her deadened voice replied.  I was starving but I thought it was a better idea to just get to Davidson and start dealing with everything that was waiting for me there.  I wanted to ask how she was doing.  But I could see with my own eyes exactly how she was doing.  And it wasn’t good. 
                    Ruby was hollow and I wasn’t sure how well I was going to handle all of this.  I merged onto I66 and headed south.  I tried several times to start a conversation and even though Ruby attempted to engage, we ended up dropping off into silence.  After a while, I gave up and turned on the radio.
                    Two hours later, I drove into Davidson and it was like my entire world shuddered around me.  I drove down the familiar streets and felt intense and overwhelming panic.  I couldn’t do this!  I needed to get the fuck out of here! 
                    The mellow edge brought on from my medication blurred into the freak out rising inside me.  The roads were pretty empty.  Not surprising considering it was almost midnight on a Wednesday evening.  And what did I expect?  A mob greeting me as I rolled into town with pitchforks and torches shouting, “Get the nut job?” 
                    I fought an internal battle that urged me to drop Ruby off at home and run away as fast as I could.  I pulled into the driveway at Ruby’s and parked behind my car.  It still sat there as though waiting for me. 
                    “You didn’t have to hang onto it, you know.  I told you to sell it and to keep the money,” I said to Ruby as we climbed out of the car.  Ruby shook her head and gave me a ghost of a smile. 
                    “There was no way we were going to sell it.  It’s yours,” was all she said as we walked to the front door.  Turning on the hallway light, I dropped my suitcase in the living room and froze. 
                    Lisa’s glasses and book still lay on the coffee table.  Her favorite mug half full of cold coffee sat beside them.  Lisa’s slippers kicked half under the couch as though she had just taken them off. 
                    The air in here was oppressive.  Lisa had always been the housekeeper and that was very obvious.  The place was a wreck.  Going into the kitchen, dishes piled up in the sink, the trash overflowed onto the floor.  The counters were sticky with spilled tea.
                    There were flowers everywhere.  The sickeningly sweet smell of decaying food mixed with the scent of flowers made me want to puke.  One particularly huge arrangement sat on the kitchen table.  I noticed distractedly that someone had to have spent a lot of money on that particular bouquet.
                    The rest of the house wasn’t any better.  And worse than that, Lisa’s things had all been left just as they were.  Like she could be expected to walk in the door at any moment.  “Sorry everything is such a mess.  Lisa was the one…she always…” Ruby choked up and covered her mouth with her hand.
                    I hugged her and rubbed her back.  I felt like I couldn’t breathe.  The tightness in my chest was too much.  But I tried, for my aunt’s sake, to hide my discomfort.  “It’s okay.  I’ll take care of it in the morning,” I assured her. 
                    Ruby nodded and without another word, walked up the stairs.  Her shoulders drooped and head hung low.  She looked years older as she made