Strangely Normal - By Tess Oliver Page 0,72

it sound that way. “All right.” I took the phone, but as I pulled my hand away, Jude grabbed tightly hold of my wrist. He still hadn’t looked at me. Instead, he stared down at his long, thick fingers holding the frail bones of my wrist.

“You warned me,” I uttered quietly, but the words seemed to echo loudly through the vacant hallway.

He nodded and then pulled me into his arms. He held me for a long time without saying a word and then as quickly as he’d grabbed me, he released me and walked away.

***

Following the same routine as the last several days, Finley emerged from her room around noon still dressed in sweats. I was fairly certain she was sleeping in them. We walked silently downstairs, and I noticed that she didn’t even bother with her routine of tapping the banister.

The housekeeper, Tilly, met us at the bottom landing. “There’s a package for you, Miss King.”

I looked over at Finley, but even news of a package did not unfreeze the permanent frown that now marred her pretty face. I picked up the package that she seemed to determine to ignore and followed her to the couch where she immediately turned on the soap operas she’d been watching all week. I placed the package on the table in front of her.

“Coffee and cereal?” I asked. She was eating only tiny amounts, and cereal seemed to be the one food she would agree to. As usual, she didn’t answer, so I walked into the kitchen to get some. Some Pig followed and I scooped some of his food into his bowl.

We sat there for several hours. Finley stared at the television, and I read a stack of magazines. I’d grown weary of the mundane articles and pages of advertisements. I glanced at the unopened box. “It’s from your dad. Aren’t you curious what’s inside?” I asked hoping to spur her into a conversation.

She shook her head. “Go ahead, open it.”

I pulled off the strip of packing tape. There was a small handwritten card on top. “I’ve heard these herbs are good for when you’re feeling down. Love Dad.” I read it to her but got no reaction. There were several fragrant boxes of expensive looking tea inside, and I lifted them out and looked at them. Now I knew what Jude was talking about. Her dad was in denial. Tea? He thought flowery smelling tea was going to snap his daughter out of a darkness that had swallowed her so completely, it was as if only the shell of Finley existed.

“Do you want me to brew you a cup?” I asked.

She shook her head. And that was the end of the conversation.

After six hours of a soap opera marathon and two bowls of cereal, Finley stretched out on the couch and fell asleep. I covered her with a blanket and went back upstairs. There was a computer in my room that I’d barely used because I’d never had internet at home and hardly knew where to go online. I decided to do a little research into depression. There wasn’t much else to do.

One hour into my search, I realized you could talk yourself into any disease or malady if you read enough about it. And the volume of information floating around on depression was confusing, overwhelming and, well, depressing.

I drifted around in the bottomless world of information for awhile. It made me drowsy enough that I got up and climbed onto the bed to take a nap. I’d just fallen asleep when a slamming door jarred me awake again. Heavy footsteps plodded down the hallway and staircase.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed, fished for my sandals, and headed downstairs. Deep, angry voices sparked off the walls of the hallway leading to the kitchen area where Finley had been fast asleep on the couch. Obviously, she wasn’t sleeping any longer.

“I don’t know why the fuck you’re blaming me for this.” I’d rarely heard Cole angry, and it sounded strange to my ears.

“Max is your friend. You should have warned him or told him to stay the hell away if it was going to be too much for him to handle,” Jude answered.

A breath of fear caught in my throat, and I picked up my pace and sped toward the kitchen. I could only assume that Finley had left the kitchen area. There was no way they were having this conversation in her presence.

Jude slammed a beer bottle on