What is Trudy thinking, slumped there against the front door? She is thinking that she doesn’t want to hear a word from any of them.
Not from her mother, not from her sister, and not from her so-called father.
Whatever they say will hurt.
None of it will be right and none of it will be enough.
She is thinking that it is much better to be around people you don’t care about because they can’t hurt you. Not really. Only people you love can tear you apart by just saying the wrong thing. Or not saying the right thing. Or saying the right thing at the wrong time. They can just hurt you by being themselves.
Ugh. Love.
And speaking of love, where is Jules? What is the point of him? What is he for if he isn’t here with her right now? Why does she have to go through this alone?
Speaking of love, who in God’s name is that guy with Tammy? He looks like he’s been taken apart and put back together wrong. He looks under-done.
And, finally, speaking of love, can her mother’s years of stupidity really be rewarded so lavishly? Is a dream coming true at the end of the driveway? It is impossible for Trudy to know how to feel about this. Has her father even looked at her?
Because she can’t help it, Trudy is also thinking about how everybody else might hurt everybody else. How Darren will hurt Claire and Tammy. How Tammy will hurt Mercy. And how Mercy will hurt Tammy right back.
And because no one else will think about it, she can’t help thinking about dinner and sleeping arrangements and about how she will get her car out of the driveway to get to work.
Trudy is thinking all of these things when Mercy calls to her and she looks up to see Tammy’s companion collapsed on the lawn like a crumpled up old tissue.