𝐑𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬

𝟑𝟗 | 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝

I don't know how long I was at the treehouse when Luke found me. I was still scribbling away in my notebook. I looked up when I heard the whoosh. His whoosh.

"Ruth, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"You shouldn't have," I said, closing my notebook and tossing it aside. "And I shouldn't have said everything would be okay, because it's not and it won't be."

When I started to tear up, Luke sat down beside me and put an arm around me.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Luke said, placing a peck on my head. "Don't ever be sorry. You always make things better."

"Not always," I sighed, my eyes wandering over to my notebook. "Actually ... maybe I do."

"What?" Luke questioned.

I lurched forward for my notebook, only to cuddle back into Luke as I scribbled down an idea. I could feel him mouth the words I had written, his chin bobbing up and down on my head.

"This is really good," Luke said. "Does it have a melody?"

I looked up at him with squinted eyes. My second hit of deja vu that day.

"It did," I replied slowly. "But I forgot it."

Luke laughed a soft laugh. "How could you forget it?"

"Doesn't matter," I stood up, shaking myself off. "I've been sad here all day. Where do you want to be sad?"

I already knew the answer.

———

We reappeared outside Luke's parents' house.

"Luke? Ruth?"

We looked over to see Julie with one hand hovering over the doorbell and the other holding a piece of paper.

"What are you doing here?" Luke asked, confused.

"Okay, look," Julie began. "I ... I just wanted to know more about you, you know, just curious. Um ... "

"Julie it's fine," I said turning to Luke. "We brought her here last week to show her you weren't the asshole you were ... being."

"You were spying on me? Even after all your speeches on boundaries? You were spying on me?" Luke asked, hurt. "Wait, we?"

"I know," Julie said. "I'm sorry. It was wrong. But I'm worried about you. We all are."

"You don't have to be."

"I get it," Julie frowned. "I know how hard it is when you want to speak to someone you love and can't. I feel that way everyday."

I stepped away for a moment to stop myself from crying. I lost my best friend, but Julie lost her mother. I knew my mother wasn't dead, but I knew the feeling all too well.

"I don't know what I'd say to her," Luke shrugged. "Even if she could hear me."

"Yes, you do," Julie said. "You've already said it. Trust me."

I turned around to see Luke pressing the doorbell. Julie stepped forward and he stepped back, letting her take over. Not that he had a choice.

I made my way over to him and took his hand. I felt the cold of his rings overtaking the warmth of his hand. The door opened.

"Hello. Can I help you?" Mitch asked.

"Hi. I'm Julie. Um ... I believe you had a son named Luke?"

"Yes, that's right. And you are again?"

"Julie Molina. Your son's band used to play in my family's garage?"

When Mitch didn't recognise the name, Julie handed him the piece of paper she had been carrying.

"I came across this song that he wrote," Julie explained. "And figured you might be interested?"

"Um ... well, yes," Mitch stuttered, taken aback. "Please, please, come in. I'm Mitch."

"Nice to meet you," Julie said as she followed him inside.

Luke froze, so I gave his hand a squeeze.

"I can't believe she's doing this for me," Luke said.

"I can," I thought of her mother.

Luke must've seen Rose through my eyes, because he simply nodded and gave my hand a squeeze in return. Something felt different as he looked down at me. I thought he was about to say something, as he had opened his mouth, but he decided against it and gestured toward the door. We walked through together and made our way into the lounge to see Julie and Mitch chatting. That was when Emily walked in.

"Did I hear the doorbell?"

"Hi, hon. Um ... this is Julie."

"Hello, Julie," Emily smiled. "Oh, that's a beautiful sweater."

I wondered if she would've greeted me with such kindness, in another universe where we hadn't died. Would she be happy for us? Would she fuss over her son and say she only wanted the best for him? Was I the best for him? Would she like my - Luke's - sweater?

"Thanks. It's my mom's," Julie replied.

"Julie lives in the house where Luke and the band rehearsed," Mitch explained. "You know, Sinclair's place."

"Of course," Emily remembered. "Poor Tom, such a shame."

"What's a shame?" I exclaimed, before brushing it off with a laugh. "Right, the future. Everyone is dead."

Emily turned to Julie. "He had to sell the house after the divorce. I think he's in Chicago now."

"Chicago?!" I exclaimed. "That's even worse!"

"She was just telling me she found a song that Luke wrote," Mitch explained, getting us back on track.

"It's a song about a girl named Emily?" Julie questioned, concealing her knowledge.

"I'm Emily."

"Then I think your son may have written this song for you."

Mitch and Emily read through the lyrics on the page. As I remembered them, I started to tear up. We watched in silence as they read and remembered. Next thing I knew, everyone was crying.

"Thank you," Emily sniffed.

"You have no idea ... ," Mitch failed to find the words.

"I write music in the same room that he did," Julie explained. "And I can tell you that it is a magical, happy place."

"That's so nice to know," Mitch smiled.

"I know he was only seventeen when he ... ," Julie paused. "But he ... "

"But he lived doing the one thing he was born to do," I offered. "And not many people find that."

"But he lived doing the one thing he was born to do," Julie repeated. "Not many people find that, but Luke did. He was lucky."

I turned around and watched the tears stream down Luke's face. As I went to wipe them away, he took my arm and poofed us out of there before I got the chance.