A Family for Jason

by Virginia McCullough

  “So he is. I probably shouldn’t do this,” Mike said slyly, “but I can’t resist.” He took hold of her pigtail and gave it a gentle tug. “I’m in third grade again and you were the new girl with the long braids.”

  “So I was.” What was she supposed to say? She kept her eyes on Jason to avoid Mike’s. “But you never pulled my braids. That would have been breaking Mrs. Cermak’s rules.”

  Mike laughed. “Right you are. Anyway, I’m glad you came. And Emma. I wanted you to see what a big success your costume idea turned out to be.” He patted the stuffed dog’s head sticking out of her bag. And you? You’re a perfect Dorothy.”

  Ruby held up her phone. “Dr. Jason is captured in here. He looks adorable. By the way, don’t leave without taking Toto with you. I only bought it so I could give it to him.”

  Mike’s frown lasted only a second or two. But Ruby understood. She debated if it was a good idea to give Jason that kind of gift. In the end, though, she decided it was a small thing and would be worth it to see the smile on the boy’s face.

  “And here he comes,” Ruby said.

  She reached out and squeezed Jason’s shoulder. “You look like a real doctor.”

  She and Mike laughed as Jason nodded solemnly, apparently taking his costume seriously.

  Mike ran his hand over Jason’s curly hair. “Take us to the candy, Jason. We’ll make sure you get one of everything.”

  She and Mike let Jason lead the way to the table, where he was given an orange bag decorated with black cats and bats. Then an older couple dressed as a king and queen filled it with miniature chocolate bars and bags of Halloween candy, along with a sheet of Halloween stickers and a puzzle book.

  “Okay, Jason, let’s go to the apple booth and get you one with lots of caramel and nuts.” Mike steered him toward the table, but a man tapped Mike on the arm and asked if he could speak to him for a minute.

  Mike glanced at Ruby, his expression asking a silent question.

  “Go ahead, Mike. I’ll take him to get one of the apples.”

  “Hey, Jason, we’re in luck,” Ruby said when they’d taken the few steps to the booth. “No waiting.”

  This volunteer was dressed as an old-fashioned farmer with bib overalls and a big straw hat. In a jovial voice he asked, “What can I get for Dorothy and the doctor?”

  Jason pointed to Toto.

  “Okay, and for the dog.”

  “One with caramel and nuts?” Ruby asked Jason.

  When he smiled and nodded, the guy said, “One apple with everything comin’ right up.”

  Ruby picked up Jason, who was surprisingly heavy in her arms. She held him around his middle so he could see the apple on a stick swirling into the creamy rich caramel. Then the man dipped the apple into the nuts and with a flick of his wrist gave it a spin and it came up covered.

  “That looks almost too beautiful to eat,” Ruby joked, when she took the apple from the man’s hand. “Why don’t I carry it for you?”

  Jason nodded and they stepped away from the booth. “I suppose we could look for your dad or for Emma. What do you think?”

  Jason shook his head. No? Hmm...puzzling. The pull on her pinafore got her attention. She crouched down next to Jason. “What is it?”

  Jason took his prescription pad and pencil from his pocket and wrote something on it. Then he turned it so Ruby could see the letters: HUG.

  Ruby had a bit of a struggle to keep her eyes from filling with tears. She managed to say, “That’s easy enough.” She opened her arms and he did the same, and when her arms circled him he rested his cheek against her shoulder.

  “What a nice surprise,” she whispered. She gave him an extra little squeeze. She relaxed her arms and drew back a little and looked into his smiling face. She then took Toto out her bag and tucked it under his arm. “He belongs to you now.”

  She straightened up and took Jason’s hand. She headed toward Emma and saw Mike on the way. Kristine approached from the other direction.

  “We got the best apple they had,” Ruby said, keeping her voice even. But she wasn’t on an even keel inside. She wanted the special moment back. She glanced down at Jason. “It was a wonderful party.”

  Kristine patted her arm. “I’m very sorry I won’t be seeing you again, Ruby. But good luck wherever you go.”

  “Not so fast.” Emma rose and laced her arm through Ruby’s. “I’m keeping her around until Thanksgiving—at least.”

  Ruby’s and Mike’s eyes met for a split second. Then Ruby forced herself to look at Kristine, who wore an insincere smile as she glanced from Ruby to Mike and back again. They stood in silence. The energy around Ruby quivered as if something meaningful had happened, but no one could name it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WITH HIS FEET propped up on his desk, Mike flipped through the latest issue of the business weekly he’d recently subscribed to. It was unusual for him to have a quiet moment to himself. Jason was never far from his thoughts. Thankfully, the nightmares hadn’t surfaced lately, but the resistance was showing itself daily. He shook his head to refuse scrambled eggs one day, green beans the next. Mike would put out a blue T-shirt, and Jason would put it back and take out the red one. Like Ruby said, a little rebellion was a good sign. Right. But that didn’t mean it was easy to deal with.

  The phone rang and Mike eagerly answered it.

  “Are you in your office or at home?” Ruby said, dispensing with a greeting. Loud background noise told him she was outside.

  “In the office.” He put his feet on the floor and sat up straight. “Why? Where are you?”

  “I’m at the bridge. I just finished a long run back to that road behind your place. I have an idea about something. If you’re free, can I bring lunch to your office? I’d like to get your opinion.”

  Did he want vanilla ice cream on hot apple pie? Sunshine on a rainy day? Of course, he wanted her to bring lunch. “Uh, sure that sounds fine.” Did he sound cool and casual enough? “I was just about to start some notes for a client. Ha! Listen to me. It’s for one of my two clients.”

  She chuckled. “Two and counting, Mike. You want the usual roast beef?”

  “That’s it.” They ended the call and curiosity consumed him. That river trail had sure grabbed Ruby’s attention. He dropped the magazine on the stack and brought up Georgia’s file. He added a few notes.

  He could spend all day telling himself Ruby was just an old girlfriend, a first love, nothing more. But a devilish little voice deep inside belly-laughed and mocked him for the lies.

  He pushed aside his laptop. When he swiveled the chair, he faced the building next door and a slice of the gray sky. Against his better judgment, Mike closed his eyes and recalled the images of Ruby gently cupping Emma’s elbow to provide support as she gingerly walked with her cane. How Ruby had been close to tears as she shouldered the blame for her antibullying program going wrong. Or, laughing and shouting encouraging words to Jason as he threw sticks to Peach and had kept the dog’s tail happily in motion.

  The bell on the door jingled and Ruby called his name. The chair squeaked as he straightened up fast—but not fast enough.

  “Did I wake you, counselor?” An impish smile took over Ruby’s face.

  “Are you kidding? Couldn’t you tell I was pondering Lady Justice herself?”

  She tsked. “I think you’re better off pleading guilty.”

  “And throwing myself on the mercy of the court? Go for a plea bargain?” Only Ruby—and now Jason—could bring out his playful side.

  She sniffed the air. “I smell hazelnut coffee.”

  “I was pretty sure it’s your favorite.” He led the way to the back, where he poured coffee into the giant mugs he’d bought specifically to use in his office with clients.

  They set out the sandwiches on napkins. “I keep meaning to bring plates,” he said. �
�There must be five complete sets of dishes at the house. I had forgotten my mom had Thanksgiving dishes—she called it the harvest set. They have leaves and cornucopias and pumpkins. She used those in October and November. Then in December she brought out the holiday china.”

  “I remember those plates because they were hand-painted with snow-covered evergreens and stars and lights that almost twinkled.” Ruby lifted her mug high in the air. “I like the glazes on these. Prairie colors, the browns and greens and a touch of blue—it reminds me of the sky in winter. Your mom would have liked them.”

  Her voice had gradually become hoarse with emotion. Nostalgia. He knew it well. But he also knew to keep his distance and not scare her away with kisses and talk of her moving to town. He almost laughed out loud. Scared away because it all felt too good.

  “That’s what drew me to them.” A long-forgotten memory surfaced. Ruby in the small makeshift art studio at the high school showing him a bowl. “You made pottery bowls, Rubes. I remember.” He’d been all thumbs, or that’s how he thought of himself. He and Neil acted like Rubes and Em taking extra art classes was a girly thing. Talk about being dumb guys.

  Ruby nodded. “I was thinking about that the other day. In the last few years, whenever I’d wanted to expand my life—you know, do something besides work...and work out—I’d think about taking a pottery class. But somehow, I never got around to it.”

  He studied her face, deep in reflection as she spoke. A mesmerizing face, with distinctive light brown eyes revealing the depth of the woman she’d become. Her rich red hair looked dark against the white headband that held it in place. “You’re already a really good photographer.”

  Ruby grinned. “I like it, just like I had fun working with clay as a teenager. And Emma was always such a good sketch artist.” She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed. “Speaking of sketching, Emma loaned me one of her notepads. So, have your lunch and you can see for yourself.” She patted her backpack sitting next to her.

  “This is getting interesting. What are you going to draw?”

  “Eat first. You’ll see.”

  It didn’t take long to recap the Halloween party while they finished their sandwiches and coffee.

  After he scrunched up the bag and napkins and threw them in the trash, she pulled a good-size tablet out of her pack.

  “You really are going to draw,” he said.

  She sent him a self-deprecating glance. “An embarrassing and no doubt way off-scale map of the river trails and the roads I took on the day I ended up at your house.”

  “You’ve got my attention,” Mike said.

  Ruby opened the sketchbook and took out a box of colored pencils. “I told you I brought art supplies with me.” She laughed. “I have a feeling Jason could do a better job with what I’m about to do.”

  “Ah, c’mon, Rubes, show me what you got.”

  Ruby chuckled at his teasing and in the bottom corner, she drew the bridge in red and, flashing a smile, exchanged her red pencil for a blue one and made a squiggly line up the page to indicate the river. Then she held up the green and brown pencils. “Okay, using these for land, here are the river trails.” She looked up. “What I’m doing here is part of a bigger vision, for lack of a modest word. The other day, I noticed there’s no sign anywhere that points visitors to those trails. There should be one of those posts with arrows pointing to the park and bridge and trails.”

  Good point, Mike thought, watching her fill in the trail and underpasses. “When we were kids, that area along the river wasn’t cleared,” he said. “The actual paved trail wasn’t put in until about a year before my dad signed over our land.”

  “Which helps explain why no one figured out that the road behind the old gas station could be connected to the sanctuary. It’s an extra mile, or a mile and a half, and could have been part of the trail system.” Ruby circled the end of the trail at the parking lot, and then drew a line to create a back road to the dead-end T. “If you make a right turn you’re at the rear boundary of the sanctuary. Why not extend a trail through the woods? It would come up here.” She drew a rectangle and labeled it the office.

  Mike pointed higher. “And the front entrance—that’s way over here and the winding road into the parking here.” He picked up the blue pencil. “And this would be the lake that’s more or less off the paper.”

  “I’m no civil engineer,” Ruby said, “but how much could it cost to create a gravel trail, if not a paved one?”

  “A new extension would provide walkers and cyclists a route from one nature site to another. The covered bridge to the bird sanctuary. There’s even a marshy area that could be covered with a boardwalk.”

  Ruby used a brown pencil to draw a line down the road to the left of the dead end. “When Emma and I were out the other day, we looked for the turnoff to the back road from the other direction. Near as we could tell, it’s off Miller Road, where there are two very large farms. Emma said there used to be six or seven farms in that area.”

  “Likely part of Bluestone River’s sad tale of decline,” Mike said, tapping what Ruby had drawn. “My dad predicted bigger farms would gobble up the smaller ones. He was right. They’re more like factories now.”

  “Not much we can do about that,” Ruby said, “but allowing a trail from that road to the main building in the sanctuary would give the owners something to brag about. Taking their civic duty seriously and all that.”

  “The extended trail system would definitely draw more tourists—and local use,” Mike said.

  Ruby paused and then traced her finger down the page to the bridge. “Imagine a sign pointing the way to the Hidden Lake Bird Sanctuary here at the bridge.” She held up her hands to form a rectangle. “I can see the photos in a brochure for the town.”

  “Millie doesn’t care for many injured birds. The place isn’t really fulfilling its mission as a sanctuary. But that could change.”

  “It was odd the other day to see cabins all boarded up.”

  “Neglected, probably not opened in years. My dad sold off the equipment and the freezers in the ice-cream shop to a guy over in Clayton.” He rolled his eyes. “Naturally, Bluestone River’s loss was Clayton’s gain. The building is still there. Only two or three of the cabins have been torn down. Probably because the wood was rotting.”

  “So, what do you think about proposing the trail expansion?” Ruby asked. “Emma still has some pull in this town.” She pointed to him. “So do you?”

  “That’s iffy,” Mike said, wistfully. “Emma maybe. But no one is inclined to listen to me.”

  “Yet. Give it time, Mike. The Abbots were a big part of things around here.”

  Mike had his doubts, but it didn’t matter. “How about this? I’ll find out who owns the land where the farm road is. It’s a start. Maybe they’d do a long-term lease or even sell it for public use. Could be a couple of ag-equipment companies that could use the PR.” With the brown pencil he made a shoulder area on the side of both roads and curved a line through the grass and gravel for a path. “Unless whoever owns the land is willing to cover the cost, the project needs funding. I’m sure the tax base is lower now.”

  “You could argue the sanctuary is missing out, too. It’s barely mentioned on the website.”

  “But it’s so nice and quiet. Exactly how I like it. The birds probably would vote to keep it that way, too.” Pretending to scold her, he said, “And now you, and probably Emma, want to encourage people to come here.”

  Ruby laughed. “Hey, it’s your civic duty. Supports the environment, too. A good credential for you.”

  “Hey, isn’t Emma on the board of the conservancy?”

  “She used to be,” Ruby said, “but that was before she fell and was so badly hurt. She had to give up most of her volunteer work. But she kept funding the two part-time salaries for Millie and a seasonal groundskeeper. Even after she and Neil
decided to split up, she promised him she’d keep up the funding.”

  The image of his old friend Neil talking with Emma about divorce agreements tore at his insides. Even worse, it forced him to face the way he’d let his friendship with Neil slip away. Why couldn’t he and Neil have been more like Emma and Ruby? Best friends forever. Neil had pulled away first, though, as Mike remembered. But he hadn’t challenged him. Just like he’d never gone after Ruby. Now he realized Neil probably didn’t want to confide his marriage troubles, they’d all been close.

  Ruby leaned forward. “It hurts to imagine them having that kind of conversation, doesn’t it?”

  “Were you reading my mind?”

  She shook her head. “Remember, I saw Emma a few times a year. With me, she had a chance to drop her defenses a little and admit how hard it was between them.”

  What if he and Ruby had ended up that unhappy? He couldn’t stand even thinking about it.

  “He and Emma were sad more than angry,” Ruby said. “They parted when they were still friends who hoped they’d each get a second chance at finding the right person.”

  They sat in silence. The hum of the camper-size fridge was the only noise he heard.

  When he started to jump back to the conversation, so did Ruby, so they were both talking at the same time. That lightened things up and Mike gestured to Ruby to go first.

  She tilted her head and smiled smugly. “I’d like to brag a little.”

  “Well, then, be my guest,” he said with a laugh.

  “You don’t know this, but I happen to be a champion grant writer. If I hadn’t been, a couple of the crisis centers I worked for would have folded. I can put numbers together, statistics, budgets and cost-benefit analysis.”

  Mike found this side of Ruby easy to imagine. “I bet you’re good. I would have liked to have done more pro bono work in Cincinnati.”

  “So, then you know what I’m talking about. We could do a proposal for the town council. Emma can talk to the conservancy and to Millie and get some figures.”