Book Lover, The

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Book Lover, The Page 28

by McFadden, Maryann


  “You’ve never really told me about your husband.”

  Ruth looked out the window, hesitating. It was nearly dark again, rain still trickling down the glass. “I know I never really spoke about my husband. That was deliberate, to you and to everyone else. The truth is I couldn’t stand to. Because to talk about it would be to think about it and…oh, Lucy, I feel like a liar of grand proportions.” She shook her head. Why was she doing this now? Why didn’t she just keep her mouth shut?

  She pulled the book to her nose again, inhaling deeply, wondering at the power of a scent, the visceral feeling of a moment in time it could evoke.

  “I gave this book to Bill on our fifth anniversary. When I still had a bit of hope that we could make things work. When I was still…trying.”

  “Listen, Ruth, you don’t have to go into this now, maybe it’s not—”

  “No, I want to. I think it’s time.” Then she added with a little laugh, “And after all, Lucy, haven’t we told each other pretty much everything?”

  Lucy looked uncomfortable for a moment and Ruth hesitated, wondering if perhaps she was taking their honesty too far. Maybe Lucy didn’t really want to hear all this. But then Lucy gave her a kind smile, pulled her chair closer and put a comforting hand on her arm. And Ruth continued.

  “It wasn’t until months after Bill and I were married that I realized he didn’t read. At all. I couldn’t believe it, you know? To be honest, when we were dating, I hadn’t even noticed, we were always so busy doing things. But at night, I was always buried in a book, especially if he was working late. And he worked all sorts of odd hours on the railroad.

  “Saying it out loud, it doesn’t seem so awful. Big deal, he didn’t read, except maybe the sports pages. I kept telling myself that no other woman would care about such a thing. I was a lucky girl to have him. But I began to realize more and more as time went by and then children came, that we had nothing in common, really. That without the excitement of dating, in the day to day reality of marriage, we were horribly mismatched. And Bill was bored. Bill needed a lot of fun, a lot of stimulation. Once I was his, I guess I wasn’t so much of that anymore. So he would go out at night when he was off, to see his friends at the bars, play pool, who knew what else. Pretty soon, he didn’t come home much. It wasn’t long before I started hearing the rumors.”

  The hurt, the shame, she could feel it even now, roiling inside of her, turning her stomach.

  “We started to argue, terrible fights. He’d promise to stop. He’d say that if I gave him half the attention I did to my books…” She closed her eyes, leaning back against the pillow at the force of those cruel memories.

  You’re frigid, he’d yell when she wouldn’t respond to him. And if she couldn’t give him what he needed, he’d just keep getting it elsewhere. Frigid, a word from another era. A label that had scarred her. Who ever heard it now? Looking back at herself, so young, navigating the difficult waters of motherhood, betrayed and exhausted, she thought now: of course you couldn’t respond, he was cheating on you. Of course you began to hate him, who wouldn’t?

  But she couldn’t say those things out loud, even now, not even to Lucy. For so long she’d been afraid he was right. That she wasn’t enough of a woman and failed him somehow.

  She lifted the rose from the book and bits of petal disintegrated onto her lap. “Today it would be so easy to walk away from a marriage like that, you know? People would think you were crazy if you stayed. But back then, I didn’t work. I was a mother, with young children. There weren’t many jobs for women anyway, it was all so different. Besides, I kept thinking if I tried harder, somehow I could get it to work. Because I just felt like I wasn’t enough for him.”

  “Please, Ruth, don’t…”

  “One night I was so distraught, I couldn’t take it anymore. It was this time of year, and he was supposed to be getting everything ready for a big bonfire up at the lake before the kids went back to school. He didn’t come home and I finally got my neighbor to come over and sit with the kids. I drove up to the lake, shaking all the way, knowing in my gut what I would find. And I did. It was awful, the worst moment of my life. She ran out in a hurry, half dressed. I stood there and I swear I thought my heart would explode with rage. I screamed at him over and over, that I wished…he was dead.” There, she’d said it out loud. She looked up at Lucy, who was looking at her not with horror, but with a look of such sadness.

  “Stop, Ruth, please.”

  “He actually started to cry,” she went on, unable to stop now. “And it threw me. I expected him to defend himself, like he usually did. To yell and make excuses. But he knelt at my feet, wrapped his arms around my legs and told me he never deserved me. Then he got up and left.”

  “Look, Ruth, I know what it’s like to be cheated on, maybe not in this same way, but I was so full of rage at times it scared me.”

  “But he did die.” She saw Lucy’s eyes widen. “I went home and three hours later the police were at my door. His car hit a tree and he died instantly. So did she. She was Hannah’s older sister.”

  She could hear Lucy’s soft gasp. Ruth’s body shook now as it had when she’d opened the door, the kids asleep upstairs, their world changed forever. Her knees had buckled and she’d slid to the floor, unable to get up.

  “The police knew us. This is a small town, you know, and everyone loved Bill, he was so full of life. They stood in my house with tears in their eyes. The condolences over the coming days were heart wrenching. The worst, though, was the children.”

  Lucy took both of her hands and held them tightly.

  “He wasn’t all bad, of course. He loved the children and was always doing fun things with them when he was home. They had lots of campouts at the lake. I began to realize he was so much like them, always wanting to play, to find the fun in life and I…I was so serious.”

  Lucy handed her a tissue. Silent tears were spilling from Ruth’s eyes and she hadn’t even felt them. She wiped her face then blew her nose.

  “Afterward, I thought I would die of the guilt, every time I tucked my kids in bed at night. Every time they cried. I felt like I was to blame.”

  “But you don’t still think that, do you?”

  She shrugged. “After a while, I just refused to think about it. It was easier that way. I buried my memories with him. Now over these past months, it seems like everything’s been coming to a head. Maybe it’s my age. Maybe it’s sitting here wondering just how many days I have left on earth. None of us knows, really. And I keep thinking about what Jenny says, that I’ve been hiding in the store. I wonder if she isn’t right.”

  “You know what I think? I think you held this in for too long and it had to come out. Come on, Ruth, you’re not a hateful or vindictive person. Anyone who knows you knows that. You didn’t mean what you said.”

  “But do we ever really know another person? I thought I knew Bill. You thought you knew your husband. I never imagined I was capable of the things

  I said to Bill. How do we ever trust again?”

  “Are you talking about Thomas?”

  She turned and looked out the window again. One by one the houses and stores and street lights came on, as they had last night. Already there was a rhythm to this, and she wondered if a new phase of her life had begun.

  “I never told you, but a while back Thomas came to see me at my house.”

  “He’s out of prison?”

  “Yes. And he told me why he was in there. He was trying to get back money that was stolen from his mother. What he did was stupid, crazy and…I think I believe him. But could you imagine Jenny finding out I’m seeing an ex-convict? And who knows what my sons would say?”

  “Ruth, I don’t think this is about your kids or anyone else. This is about what you want.”

  “I’ve thought about almost nothing else since I’ve been in here. I’m not sure I have the courage to try again. Maybe it’s been too long. Lucy, I haven’t been kissed, much less intimate with another man since I
was married to Bill. As much as I want to…I’m not sure I can. It’s not just that. This sounds so shallow, but what if…I’m ashamed of him in public, you know? Oh yes, this is my new boyfriend, who spent the last ten years in prison. I’m not sure I can completely get beyond that. And the funny thing is that it made me realize some of what Gloryanne went through. The stigma of being with a man who people will always look at differently.”

  She paused a moment, exhausted suddenly.

  “But Ruth, didn’t you say yourself a little while ago that just because Colin is different doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve to be loved? Maybe the same could be said for Thomas.”

  She looked at Lucy for a long moment. Then she held out the leather bound book of poetry.

  “Here, put this back on the shelf in the cabin. That’s where it belongs.”

  JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT THERE WAS A HUGE COMMOTION as a drug addict was admitted in the bed next to hers. When the night nurse came in, Ruth was surprised to see it was Larry Porter’s girlfriend, Angela, who apologized, explaining it was the last bed and they had no choice. While the woman moaned and thrashed, Angela sat in the room, and she and Ruth chatted for a while about books, reminiscing about how she and Larry had met in the store by chance. Ruth lamented the shift change, when Angela said goodbye.

  She alternately slept and wrote until the sun rose over Warwick and by then, as her breakfast tray was wheeled in, she’d come to two decisions. She was going to sell the store. If she couldn’t-which was highly possible—she’d shut it down after the anniversary.

  And as soon as she got home, she was going to call Thomas.

  She left the tray untouched, got dressed, and then signed herself out of the hospital, stopping to mail her essay, “Why I’m a Bookseller,” on her way home. She couldn’t come up with just one explanation, so instead she’d spent the night listing all of the reasons she had loved what she did for the past thirty-five years. It seemed like a fitting farewell.

  37

  MUCH TO MEGAN’S CHAGRIN, LUCY PITCHED IN at the bookstore, organizing the bills and paperwork that Ruth had apparently never let Megan touch. She also spruced up the bathroom/storeroom where she’d fallen apart all those months ago.

  Before she knew it, she was locking the door of the cabin and heading to LaGuardia Airport. Driving around the lake, she took one final look in her rearview mirror, and felt a shiver run up her spine, though she wasn’t sure why. Colin had promised he wouldn’t try to swim to the island and back alone. Yesterday, when she was at the store, she’d reminded him of that promise. He nodded, then handed her a CD. “I thought this might help with your research on eagles.”

  “Thanks, I’ll watch it on the plane.”

  “When you come back you can tell me what you think.”

  She’d looked at him, realizing what he was asking. “I’ll even take notes,” she’d joked.

  But for once he didn’t smile. Since that kiss a few nights ago, he’d been looking at her differently. The wanting was right there, in his eyes. How had she not noticed it before, or her own growing attraction to him? She’d responded to him instantly when he’d pulled her onto his lap, and since then it was hard to get him, or that moment, out of her mind.

  “I’ll see you in two days,” he finally said and she nodded.

  In two days, she would be free and he’d want to take things to the next level. She had to be very careful. She did not want to hurt him. Or Ruth.

  On the plane her anxiety grew and she began to laugh. It was her old fear of flying, of course, and nothing more, that’s what was unnerving her. And this was the first time since she’d met David all those years ago that she was flying alone.

  Lucy hoisted her bag into the overhead compartment and took her seat. She bit a Xanax in half, enough to relax but not make her loopy. Then she closed her eyes and waited, saying a small prayer. It was funny how it came automatically when she was in fearful situations. The last time she’d really prayed was when Ben was born. And that night in front of David’s office, when she’d thought he was dead.

  As the plane backed out of the gate, then bounced across the tarmac, her heart began to race, despite the Xanax. Gripping the seat rests, she closed her eyes and thought of David, that first time she’d done this very same thing, but grabbed his warm hand instead. How he’d always made her feel safe.

  The plane turned, the engines firing up to full throttle, and then they were hurtling down the runway. She waited for that moment they left the earth, praying they wouldn’t fall, as it seemed they should from the sheer weight of the jet. Her stomach dropped as the plane lifted and she counted Lamaze breaths over and over until finally they were at cruising altitude and everyone began to chat and relax. She immediately opened her tote bag and pulled out the research material she’d printed over the past week from the internet, enough pages to distract herself for three flights.

  As she leafed through the enormous file, she remembered the CD from Colin. She got out her laptop, opened it on the tray and slid the disc in, pressing earphones into her ears. A moment later, the screen filled with a panoramic shot high above a glittering blue lake and in the distance, mountains dotted with snow. Classical music began, a gorgeous piece that tugged at her emotions immediately, and a woman began telling the story of the struggle for independence that led to the newly formed United States. How the founding fathers searched for a majestic symbol of their hard-won freedom, finally choosing the bald eagle.

  Lucy watched as a distant object on the screen slowly came into focus and she recognized an eagle, which then spread its wings and took flight above forests and woodlands, skimming treetops, gliding across frozen, snow-covered fields, as if surveying his world in all of its magnificent glory. It was a stirring opening and a sudden lump of tears grew in her throat. She couldn’t help but think of Colin and his wounded veterans who had all fought, just as those men fought centuries ago, to reinforce the freedom this bird represented. Something like this, she thought, might be a perfect opening for Colin’s program.

  The bald eagle is one of the largest birds of prey, the narrator went on. Its startling white head and penetrating yellow eyes make it the most recognizable raptor, but most people know very little about its difficult and inspiring life in the wild.

  The music changed and as the eagle flew back to its nest, another eagle soared into view. It was a female, checking out his home. Noticing her, he suddenly took off from the nest, following her across the sky for a long distance, growing ever closer until they began to circle each other over and over at a leisurely pace, the male just above the female. Lucy marveled at this intricate aerial ballet until suddenly he dove toward the female. Lucy thought he was going to attack her, but with just seconds to contact, the female suddenly turned upside down, thrusting her feet toward him. He grasped her talons with his own. They were locked together, unable to fly. She watched in horror as the two eagles plummeted toward the earth, bodies twirling as they held onto each other. This was the dance of courtship, although it seemed to Lucy as though they were destined for death. At the very last second the birds suddenly broke free, soaring off in opposite directions. But the bond was established. Hopefully, they would now mate.

  She paused the video and sat there, moved beyond words by what she’d just witnessed. The trust it would take for the female to be held like that, it was beyond comprehension. She pressed play, and watched as the male, back in his nest which he’d been tending all winter, began filling it with huge twigs, fish carcasses, and other goodies that had attracted her at first glance. Her arrival soon afterward was proof, the narrator continued, that mating had indeed occurred.

  It was a tentative beginning as they worked to improve the nest together. Eagles, like many birds, have “site fidelity,” meaning that each bird is drawn to the area in which it was born to build its own nest, sometimes flying back from several hundred miles away. She imagined Kit, working tirelessly in a nest, readying it for his own mate’s arrival, no doubt somewhere
near the Water Gap. Had Kit left a mate behind, or even worse, babies which she was then forced to care for alone?

  Once the female eagle laid her eggs, they took turns keeping them warm. He would bring her food, then sit on the eggs while she flew off, fishing with amazing accuracy, diving from great heights into a river, despite her blindness in one eye, then swooping up with a fish dangling from her talons as she flew it back to the nest to be shared. Then it was his turn to hunt again. It was grueling work. Lucy was amazed at the hardships these wild creatures endured to bring their young into the world. They were fierce predators, yet gentle parents. Their diligence and sensitivity touched her heart, especially as he carefully maneuvered his powerful talons over the eggs so he didn’t crack them when he sat to warm them. The eggs could freeze in a minute if exposed.

  It went on for weeks, as early spring turned cold again and suddenly a late blizzard blew in. The nest swayed and pitched as each eagle took turns sitting on the eggs, their feathers rippling in the cruel, gale force winds and blinding snow, yellow eyes ever alert. Soon they were all but covered in snow. And yet they never moved, never wavered, mother and father guarding their young with all their might. How difficult their lives are, she thought; how easily the nest could have blown away, or one of them freeze to death. But there they sat.

  She stopped the video suddenly, and closed her eyes. Thoughts of Colin and his program, or her book, had evaporated long minutes ago. Because as she watched this pair of eagles struggling to make something happen that seemed so against the odds, ironically even against nature, it was impossible not to think of her and David. All they’d endured, for nothing.

  * * *

  FROM THE MOMENT SHE GOT IN THE RENTAL CAR and headed toward St. Augustine, the familiarity of the roads came back instantly. For almost five years, this was coming home.

 

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