"Not in the front room, but the rest of the house wasn't burned," I said a little defensively. "Let's check her room and see."
"Leah, you do understand that the whole house was affected, don't you?" he said in a condescending tone that put me on edge.
"Of course, I do," I muttered. "I'm not stupid, you know."
"I didn't say you were," he replied as we climbed the soot covered stairway.
I peeked into my bedroom and quickly realized that the damage to the house was far more extensive than I'd imagined. The firefighters had sprayed the entire house with water and had pulled apart the walls in my room and Riley's room, the ones over the living room and closest to the actual blaze. My closet was now a wet mass that contained the beginnings of mold and rot, and it stunk terribly. I knew I wouldn't be able to recover much from the mess. I took a deep breath, opened the top drawer of my dresser, and pulled out the small metal box I kept a few keepsakes in. I tucked it into my purse.
I checked Riley's room and found it in a similar condition. I opened her dresser drawers to see if she'd kept anything like I had and found nothing but a small pillbox that contained an old high school photo of Molly and a locket that she'd worn when she was a kid. I tucked it in my purse and followed Patrick down the hall to Mama's room.
Light streamed in from a window that hadn't been broken and, combined with the water that had flooded everything, it made the room seem even dingier and like more of a dump than I'd remembered. I told myself that living at Betty's house was the reason all of this seemed worse, but I didn't believe the lie.
"Do you think Mama wants any of this?" Patrick asked as he kicked a pile of clothing that lay on the floor. "What a dump."
"Shut up," I said as I looked around. "You got out, so just shut up."
"What? You think it didn't affect me?" he shot back suddenly hostile and angry. "You think that just because I left, I forgot what it was like living with . . . her?"
"No, I don't think you forgot, I think you just put us out of your mind and moved on!" I shouted. "Quit acting like you're the only one who was affected by all of this, Patrick. You might be a priest, but you make a lousy martyr."
"That's what you think I'm aiming for?" he said staring at me in disbelief. "You think I want to be a martyr? Well, let me tell you something, little sister, I never ever wanted to be a martyr. I think that was your goal."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I shouted. "I'm the one who stayed!"
"My point exactly," he said looking away. "You stayed and tried to fix everything, but instead you made it all worse."
"I made it worse? How in the hell did I make anything worse than it already was?" I yelled. "You walked away and left us behind! You just checked out of the family and left me to clean up the mess that was left! You are my older brother! You were supposed to protect me!"
"I know, and I'm sorry that I didn’t do that," he said bowing his head. "But I didn't know how else to survive."
Patrick looked at me with tears welling up in his eyes. I shook my head, trying to maintain my self-righteous anger so that I wouldn't go down the path that would invariably lead to self-pity and sadness. I was angry at him for leaving me alone with Mama.
"Leah, I didn't know how I could survive if I stayed here," he said quietly. "She hates me. She's always hated me."
"Mama does not hate you," I said.
"Yeah, she does," he nodded. "She told me so. Numerous times. She said I remind her of him and that she hates us both."
"Patrick, that's crazy talk," I said waving him off, but knowing deep down that he was right. Mama hated our father more than anyone on Earth, and she had been very vocal about that fact all our lives. He'd abandoned the family and then died before he had a chance to find peace.
"It's not crazy talk, Leah," he said as he dug through the closet looking for anything that might be salvageable. "It is what it is. I've accepted it, and I've moved forward with my life. I found peace in the priesthood, and I'd advise you to move forward with your life, too. Don't you want something more than just scraping by?"
"Of course I do," I said, coming dangerously close to spilling my feelings about Jack. "I just haven't met anyone who I like enough to consider making a life with. Besides, I'm busy raising a twelve-year-old, in case you didn't know."
"I know," Patrick said quietly. "I'm sorry I left you to raise her all alone."
"You did what you had to do," I said, steeling myself against the feelings that threatened to overwhelm me.
"I miss her, too, Leah," Patrick said as he moved across the room and stood holding his arms open to me. I bit my lip, and then burst into tears as I fell into my brother's embrace. He patted my head as I sobbed, "I know, I know. Let it out."
"I miss her so much, Paddy," I said calling him by his childhood nickname. "I don't know what to tell Riley, and I want to know what happened to her! Where did she go? Is she still alive? Did she just forget about us?"
"I know, Leah," he said as he rocked me like a baby. "For years I've tried to track her down, but she didn't leave much of a trail. The detective I hired said that when the trail goes cold, it's usually because someone is dead."
"I know she's probably dead," I choked out. "But I just want to know for sure. I want to know what happened so I can move on. I'm sick of looking over my shoulder and scanning every face in the crowd for Molly."
"I don't know what to tell you, sis," he said taking a hold of my shoulders and pushing me away so that he could look at my face. "But we're the only ones left, and Mama needs some serious care. She's a mess."