A flower rides the crest of a small wave breaking in the distance. Where is she? What could have happened? The crowd thins out around me. A few families linger in the surf, a girl—about seven—chases the tide as it flows from land to sea. Her laughter is out of place on a day like today, but it’s sorely needed here.
Beyond the memorial site, near public beach pavilion, the media is still set up on the boardwalk—talking to anyone willing to give them a sound bite. Gram remains under the shade of the white tent where we sat through the short service. In a few years, a permanent monument dedicated to the victims of the crash will be erected there. I overheard a few men in suits discussing the granite wall they wanted erected and the bench seating around the area. It sounds nice, I suppose.
I scan the beach and tented area searching for Cole or Amber. My eyes catch sight of long brownish red hair and my heart leaps. Ruby? The girl turns, she’s too young. Not pretty enough. I bury the disappointment. Something is wrong. Ruby and her dad should he here. Something happened.
Worried, I hurry through the sand, making my way toward the tent when I finally see Cole. From here he looks angry—or concerned—about something. I change my direction and head to him.
He’s having a conversation with a woman dressed in a simple dark sundress. She reaches out, touching Cole’s arm, before she disappears into the public restroom facilities. Cole turns, his hand running through his hair.
“Brett,” he calls, waving me over. “Something upset Amber and she hightailed it into the girls’ room and won’t come out.”
“She what?” I quicken my pace, intent on getting to my sister no matter what’s in my way.
Cole’s hand catches my elbow as I blow past him. “Hey, you can’t go in there. I got help. Hang on.”
“What happened?” Amber was fine when I wandered off not twenty minutes ago. Wasn’t she?
Cole shakes his head.
“Here she is,” a calm voice speaks up from the shadows of the women’s restroom. The girl—woman—Cole was talking with a moment ago steps into the waning light with Amber in tow.
“Am?” I wrap an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m okay, I’m fine.” She sniffles. Her blonde hair is braided back today, and her face is nearly clean of make-up. She looks young. She lowers her head, but not before I catch her red rimmed eyes and running nose. I steer her back toward the tent and Gram as her hands swipe at her cheeks. Cole thanks the woman for helping retrieve our sister. I smile. Our sister. He’s finally comfortable with the labels, with who we are to each other. I continue walking.
“You still haven’t found her?”
Amber’s speaking to me.
“Huh?”
“Ruby. She’s not here?” She runs a finger under her bottom lashes, dabbing at the moisture. “You looked everywhere?”
Typical Amber, evading me again. I’m not letting it go this time. “What happened?”
She shrugs me off and veers away from Gram and toward the beach. I follow, checking over my shoulder for Cole. He’s still talking to the woman who helped Amber. Cole says something and her dark head falls back as she laughs. Interesting.
My shoes sink into the soft sand once again, and I return my attention to Amber’s back. She’s roughly ten paces ahead of me now, walking in the direction of the surf. Stopping, she kicks off her sandals. A small wave washes ashore, the water lapping at her toes, and she shivers, her hands rubbing her forearms.
“I fought with Daddy before they left.”
Her face is turned away from me, making her voice is smaller than normal. As though her words were carried away on the slight breeze, but I was lucky enough to catch a small note of the sentence she uttered without preamble.
I move closer, but not too close. Amber is like a skittish puppy when she’s vulnerable. It’s why she evades my questions so often.
“You weren’t home. I think you stayed at Mike’s the night before or something. He caught me sneaking back into the house Tuesday morning.”
I had no idea. My mind attempts to recall the days before the crash. Nothing stands out. I slip my hands into my pockets and listen.
“He was so mad at me, and of course I yelled right back at him because he’d come into my room. That’s how he knew I snuck out. He was going for a stupid run that morning, and I’d borrowed his walkman because I broke mine.”
That I remember. She’s notoriously bad at keeping her things in one piece.
“So, he’d peeked into my room to grab the player and guess who wasn’t in bed?”
My head shakes in pity, against my will. “Where were you?”
“A party.” She fiddles with the bracelet on her left wrist. “With Bo Odom.”
“Bo?” What the— “You hooked up with Bo Odom? Seriously, Am.” Man, he’s lucky he’s away at school already. “What happened to the sacred ‘Don’t hook up with my sister’ rule?”
“I’m sorry. He is so fine, and after he graduated we decided he didn’t have to abide by your rule anymore.” She sends me a ridiculous grin. We, huh?
“Nice.”
“Whatever, that isn’t even the point. The point is Daddy was livid and starting asking me if I was sleeping around and what kind of girl I was. He even threatened to buy me a ticket to Gram’s while they were on their trip because he didn’t think he could trust me.”
A lightbulb flips on in my head.
“It was bad, B. We both said things we didn’t mean, like anyone who’s in a fight does. I didn’t mean them.” She shuffles back as the tide rushes farther up the sand. The cold water seeps into the cracks of my shoes as the wave breaks over the toes. “He told me if I wasn’t careful, I’d end up pregnant. I was so hurt. He thought I was a slut. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t wrong. No girl wants her father to think that of her.”
“Amber, Dad loved you so much.” I close the distance between us. Her chin trembles as tears spill over her red cheeks.
“I know he did, but it didn’t matter back then. I told him if I did get pregnant I would be sure to raise my kid, unlike him.” A sob tears from her throat.
I have no words. Her reply was hateful; no wonder it hurts her so much today. Dad’s conversation with me the day they left takes on new meaning in light of Amber’s revelation.
“I’m going to trust you to watch out for your sister while we’re gone, okay?” Dad looks at me as I help him load their suitcases in the car.
I shrug, merely half-committed to his order. “Yeah, sure.”
“Brett.” I stand after dropping the heavy bag in the trunk. His face is serious and pinned on mine so intently, sweat breaks out on my forehead.
“I’ll keep her out of trouble, I promise.”
“She’s too high-spirited for her own good.” He shakes his head and I want to snort. High spirited, is that what we’re calling it these days? “No parties, no guys—or girls—in the house. I’m trusting you.”
He trusted me. I promised I would watch her and keep her from trouble. “I failed you,” I admit, hugging her as she continues crying out her pain.
“Oh stop,” she mutters between bouts of tears. “Stop blaming yourself. When they left, I barely hugged him. He told me he loved me, though. At first, I didn’t reply, but he wouldn’t release me until I said it back.”
“I remember. I had no idea why you two were so tense with each other.”
“I hate myself, B. I hate how I wasted those last two days being angry at him. And saying what I did about Cole? I know he had no control over that situation, but I said it anyway. To hurt him. I’m a terrible person.”
“You are not a terrible person. You’re human. It’s what we do. We hurt people when we’re hurt.”
“You’re too nice to me.” She removes herself from my embrace and swipes at her face. “It’s getting dark, we should find Gram and Cole.”
I force her to take my hand. “Amber, they died knowing how much we loved them, you know that, right?”
“I know.” D
oes she believe it, though?
Gram and Cole walk toward us when we’re halfway to the tent. We’re some of the last people here. My eyes search around one last time, as though Ruby will magically appear. She doesn’t.
My disappointment is tangible. My heart crushed. And worried.
“I’m sure she’s okay.” Amber’s hand squeezes mine. “Something must have happened. Maybe weather delayed their flight.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
SOMEDAY I SUPPOSE
Ruby
FRIDAY, JUNE 18
Brett,
I can only imagine what you must think of me right now. I promise I didn’t show up in New York for a good reason. First, I want you to know how badly I wanted to be there. I’d much rather be there and see you than be where I am.
As we were saying goodbye to my nana at the airport, she had a stroke. I’m writing to you from her hospital room. Hopefully they have a mailbox I can use so you’ll understand sooner rather than later why I couldn’t be at the memorial. We’ll be in the hospital for a few days. Thankfully, she’ll pull through, but it was scary. The thought of losing her too has been replaying in my head over and over. I don’t know what I would do.
I don’t want you to worry about me, so if you can’t get ahold of me or don’t hear from me for a little bit, this is why.
I feel awful. I hope you can forgive me. I so desperately wanted to see you in person.
Maybe someday we’ll get this figured out…
“I just spoke with the doctor,” Dad whispers as he walks in and sees Nana sleeping. “They’re about to come in to run some more tests this morning, so we’ll have to move to the waiting room.”
I get up with my letter to Brett and follow Dad. When we sit, I sign my name with a heart and fold up the paper.
“That a letter for Brett?”
I nod and hold it carefully in my hand so it won’t wrinkle. A nurse was nice enough to take pity on me and give me a piece of copy paper to write to him. She probably saw the distress in my eyes and thought it was a matter of life and death. In a way, it is.
“He’s pretty important to you, isn’t he?”
“You could say that.”
Hopefully the nurse will take pity on me again and find me an envelope and a stamp so I can mail the letter. I hate that Brett’s going to spend days not knowing. He’s going to be so worried. How long will he be in New York? We talked about spending time exploring the city together, but we never talked about how long he’d be there. He could be there for one day. He could be there for a week. This letter needs to be waiting for him when he gets home.
“Were you going to meet him at the memorial?”
I nod, but I don’t look up. I don’t want to cry. Not about this. Not in front of him.
“I’m sorry, Roo.”
“It’s okay. Maybe we’ll meet someday.”
“If it’s important to the two of you, you’ll make it happen.” He pauses. “Otherwise, you doing okay?”
I spare him a glance. “Me? I’m fine. How are you?”
He runs his hand down the length of his face. “I’ll be okay.” He offers a smile. It’s not forced, but it’s clear he’s only smiling to stay strong for me, to comfort me. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m really sorry we’ll have to postpone this trip to New York—”
“Dad, it’s fine. Don’t worry about that right now. That’s not what’s important. Nana is. New York can wait.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me into his side, planting a kiss on the top of my head. “How did I get so lucky to have a daughter like you?”
“I dunno. I think I got pretty lucky to get a father like you.”
He squeezes my shoulder in his hand. A sheen of tears coats his tired eyes. He blinks and looks away. “We’re going to be okay, you and I.”
“I think we’ve done pretty okay so far.” All things considered.
I rest my head on his shoulder and look at the clock. 7:00 AM. We’ve been here since yesterday. I tried to catch some sleep last night in the chair in her hospital room, but it was really uncomfortable. I hardly slept. I couldn’t stop worrying about Nana and thinking about Brett. I wish I could call him, but he’s not even home, and who knows when he will be? Why didn’t we talk about this?
Exhaustion hits, so I let my eyes close. I need to sleep for a few minutes.
***
“Mr. Kaminski?”
I startle awake. Dad and I look to Nana’s doctor, standing in front of us. “You can go back in now.”
For as long as I can remember, Nana has been the life and light in every room. She’s the loud one, laughing and cracking jokes and giving everyone grief, keeping us on our toes. She’s like a human magnet and everyone gravitates toward her.
When I walk back into her room, my eyes find an unrecognizable woman. Today, she drowns in her hospital bed. Her makeup is smeared. Her skin is pale. Her salon-styled hair looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Tears threaten to pour, but I hold back.
She notices us coming inside and smiles weakly. Only one side of her mouth turning up. My face must give my worry away, because her eyes soften as she explains, “It’s just a little paralysis on the left side of my face. It’ll go away.” When she talks, her speech is slow, and it appears to be taking a lot of effort.
Will it go away? Or is that what she’s saying, so we won’t worry?
“But you’re talking this morning. That’s a good sign,” Dad says. “Dr. Neely says it was only a minor stroke. You got lucky.”
“Apparently, your father isn’t ready for me yet. I must still have some work to do here.”
With those two short sentences, she’s struggling to get through every word. She’s trying to be herself, but it’s not right.
“Mom, how about you rest your voice. Ruby and I will let you sleep some more. We’ll get the house ready so you can come stay with us for a little bit.”
Nana slowly opens her mouth.
“Nope—” he cuts her off. “I know what you’re going to say. I’m not letting you go back to your house alone. You’re coming to stay with us. Dr. Neely made it clear you shouldn’t be alone for now.”
Nana sighs and sinks farther into the bed. “We’ll talk later about this.”
“Good plan. Ruby and I will be back.” He bends down and kisses her forehead. “Get some rest.”
“I’m glad you’re okay, Nana.” What would Dad and I do if we lost her? I bend down and give her a hug.
“Me too, aniołku. Me too.” She kisses my cheek before I let go.
***
As we freshen up the guest room for Nana, I stare at the floral comforter we spread across the top of the bed. Nana moving in with us makes the most sense. As soon as Dad told her what was happening, I agreed it was the best plan. It’s the only way for us to keep an eye on her. She’s stubborn enough to think she can do it all on her own. The woman is seventy-three years old. While she seems like the youngest seventy-three-year-old to me, this stroke changes things.
We’re stuffing pillows into fresh pillowcases, and I watch as Dad struggles with getting the pillow inside. I step in next to him and show him a trick Mom taught me.
“Turn the pillowcase inside out and stick your hands inside, grabbing the top corners by the seam,” I explain, “then grab one end of the pillow by the two corners and. . .” I shake the top of the pillow. “Voila!”
“Mom taught you that, didn’t she?”
I nod and situate the two pillows side-by-side at the headboard.
“I could never remember how she did it,” he says quietly, more to himself than me. “I tried, but I always forgot to turn the pillowcase inside out.”
How will Dad take care of Nana when I’m gone? Juggling work, cooking terrible meals, driving her to doctor’s appointments and her weekly bunco night. How will he manage to keep his own sanity?
It’s obvious. He won’t.
She’ll take over the TV, and his lack of housekeeping will dri
ve her up the wall. They’ll drive each other insane without a buffer. Not to mention no one will be here with her during the day. It’s going to take time for her to regain her strength and motor skills. What if she has another stroke and she’s all by herself? No one would be here to get her to the hospital in time.
Leaving Dad in the care of capable Nana was the reason I declared my acceptance to NYU. He wasn’t going to be alone. And I know he’ll have Nana here, trying to take care of him the best she can, but she needs him now. She can’t care for him the way she would’ve been able to before.
It’s all becoming so clear.
“Ruby?”
I drag my eyes away from the window. Clearly, I zoned out. Has he been talking to me?
“You in there?”
“Yes, sorry.”
He stands by the walk in closet. “Will you help me clear these boxes from here, so she’ll have a place to put her stuff?”
I clear my throat and stride toward him. “Yeah, of course.”
I know what I have to do.
WILL YOU BE THERE
Brett
SATURDAY, JUNE 19
“You have no messages.” The electronic voice on our answering machine mocks me.
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll get the bags,” Amber calls sarcastically as she nudges the front door open with her foot. “She didn’t call?”
“No.” I was a nervous wreck all night and morning in the city until Gram agreed to come home early so I could find out why Ruby didn’t show yesterday. Relieving Amber of my duffel, I head for the stairs. “I’m going to call her.”
“Good luck.”
Dialing her number this time around isn’t any easier than the first time. What if she chickened out on meeting me? What if her dad disapproved of the situation? Oh shoot, maybe her dad doesn’t even know about me. What if—
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