|A small prayer
Author: planet p PM
Tomás is away again, and Lía, still in Manzanares Street with the children, misses him. Tomás/LíaRated: Fiction T - English - Lía S. - Words: 598 - Published: 01-28-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5701569
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Lía sighed. The house was hot and loud. The children, she thought. The children were always loud, always running around, making mischief; they could never settle down.
They miss their father, she thought. She missed him, too.
Tomás was always away on business, working; never home. No wonder the children missed him, no wonder she missed him: she was always wondering when he would be home, as she was doing things about the house and minding the children at the same time. She was always wondering: When will he be home? Is he alright? I hope nothing has happened.
And now this: Alicia's suicide. It wasn't any wonder she worried. What if it hadn't been a suicide after all, what if it had been something else; a murder?
There's no need to be ridiculous, she told herself silently, of course it wasn't something else. We're safe, we're perfectly safe. Isn't that how it has always been, with or without Tomás's presence? We know these people, our neighbours are all friends. None of them would ever do anything to harm us: me, Tomás, or the children. Sometimes you are a silly woman.
She thought about her friends: Gabriela, Vera, and Susana. She wondered what they were doing. Not chasing after four unruly children, she presumed. Vera's two children were already teenagers, and Gabriela, the former model, and Susana, had no children.
Her thoughts turned to Alicia's husband and son, Pablo and René. She wondered how they were holding up. Suicide was never a pretty thing, or a nice thing, and they had been family. She hoped that they didn't blame themselves for not having seen the 'warning signs' earlier and somehow stopped Alicia from taking her life.
Poor René, she thought. The poor boy. Suddenly without a mother.
She could not think about how her Tomás would take it were she to die, or how her four children would ever go on. As much as they were loud and unruly, she loved them, and she knew they loved her, too. Just like they loved their father.
She felt a sudden burst of anger in her chest. She knew that Tomás went away for work, and that it was the work that kept them all living comfortably in Manzanares Street, Pilar, a suburb surrounding Buenos Aires, but that didn't stop her from feeling lonely and abandoned and upset that he was always, always away – working. She was sure the children felt it, too, just as she did; maybe, even, that was the reason they acted out as much as they did.
Silly, she thought to herself, silly. You have no reason to blame Tomás, children are children, and always will be; boisterousness is a healthy part of their nature, as is rebellion.
Poor René, she thought. Without his mother, and with his father grieving the loss of his wife, life would probably be pretty low for him. She hoped he stayed okay, she hoped he didn't fall down on the bad comforts too hard: booze, drugs, any number of other, unsafe things; too many video games.
She would pray for him, she decided. Yes, just a small prayer.
The children's loud voices drew her from her thoughts, calling to her – mama – and she began to walk toward the kitchen door. The children needed her; she wondered what it was for this time.
A small prayer by planet p
Disclaimer I don't own Amas de Casa Desesperadas or any of its characters.
Thanks for reading.