Aunt Ruth Loud House Novels & Stories

I twist the doorknob of the main door, but to my surprise, it’s unlocked. The memories of my childhood and highs school days make my emotions tender. I remember everything happened in this very living room. Photographs of the Wright family and my photographs are proudly hanging on the wall. Auntie must have bought new sets of couches which are now a cranberry red from the old weathered wood brown. Oddly, the living room is empty, but there are muffled voices from the kitchen. I cautiously saunter towards them to let them acknowledge my presence.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?" As James walked up, Sean's face twisted into a sycophantic grin, and he scurried over. "Uncle, some lowlife swiped your stuff and is wearing a fake heirloom of the Clarks, saying you're gonna marry her. We're just giving her what she deserves." Mandy chimed in, eager to please, "Mr. Clark, she's been hounding Sean to tie the knot. No way can we let trash like that into the Foster family."

He thought for a few seconds and continued, “I heard that your aunt met the Acker family. She’ll be back on the day of the wedding, right?” Ruth replied, “Of course.” Notus’s interest was piqued. “Are you very close to your aunt?” Ruth smiled and said, “Mr. Lovehart, you’re absolutely right. The only elders in the Lockton family are my aunt and Grandpa now. If I don’t get close to her, who else can I get close to?” “No, I mean, were you close to your aunt in the past?” Ruth did not say anything and just looked at him indifferently.

This is a thread. And I’m going to pull it until the whole thing unravels. The next day, I visit my mother’s sister, Aunt Ruth. She’s the only one in the family who ever told me the truth straight up—even when it hurt. Ruth lives out in a trailer past the county line, surrounded by overgrown weeds and windchimes made from silverware. She looks surprised to see me. “You look just like your mother when she was scared of something,” she says, opening the screen door. “Come in.”

Why is something so simple the hardest to say? When she arrived back home, the sky was quickening with darkness when she walked through the front door. The living room light was finally on and aunt Ruth was in her usual spot in the chair, her grey hair pulled back in a messy bun. She wore a light blue nightgown, her slippers halfway off of her feet when she makes eye contact with her. She grimaced at the sight of her before removing her gaze and focused back on the TV in front of her. Even my family is disgusted by me.

Currently, the fog was beginning to recede as it often did in the later morning. The couple, my aunt and uncle, I reminded myself, had disappeared into the kitchen to fetch some snacks. They were polite, and as un-intimidating as my neighbor's Yorkshire terrier, although I certainly wasn't feeling like giving either of them a belly rub. Ruthie's grip on my arm had downgraded from "I'm so scared, I'm going to puke" to "calm but ready to bolt at any moment." Wincing, I tried to peel her fingers off me while mouthing the words "chill out." I didn't want to speak out loud because I suspected that our hosts could hear every word we said. When she squeezed tighter, I realized she hadn't understood

He nods his head and stood in the threshold for a minute and walk away from closing the door. I walk down the stairs dreading the dinner. Aunt Ruth would try to talk with me as much as possible and I would reply with a one-word sentence or nod my head. Being a teenager with a family full of debts is a hard life, full of insecurities and fear. "Hey dear, come here, I cook your favourite fried chicken, "Aunt Ruth says beaming widely when she sees me. The gesture somehow warms my heart making me smile back at her. I look over to Liam gazing at me softly smiling lightly when he sees me staring at him. The moment reminds me of the past making me feel empty inside.

✓✓✓✓ MARK MANSION The whole family was eating at the dining table, including their mother, Mrs. Ruth, who had just returned from a few months' trip to the State. "Finally, Mom, you are home," Rachel said happily. Mrs. Ruth's expression turned warm, her eyes smiling. "Yeah, your aunt refused to let me go," she said. "And you missed my birthday party," V. said, feigning a frown. "Sorry, dear, I promise to make it up to you," she said, and they smiled at each other.

~Little Ruby’s POV~ The house felt weird that night. It was too quiet. Even though the lights were still on and the TV played some show nobody was really watching, it felt like something heavy was sitting in the air, making it hard to breathe right. Mom was sitting on the couch, looking tired, and Aunt Helen had her arms crossed, staring at nothing. Rhett and I sat near the stairs, not really sure what to do. Usually, there’d be talking or laughing, or maybe Aunt Helen would be telling Mom one of her long stories that didn’t make sense. But tonight? Nothing.

I had too many things on my to-do list to get caught up in debilitating guilt because I’d never even met or gotten to know the last living relative I had before she passed. I pulled the earbuds out of my ears and entered through the back door of the house set on ten acres of untended vineyards. The peeling paint on the outside was a warning for what awaited inside. Everything was clean, of course. Aunt Betty wouldn’t have stood for anything less, according to Mom’s old rants. But dang, Aunt Betty had been living in the 70s, and they wanted their pea green ‘fridge back.