Ruby's Misadventures With Reality

by Samantha Bohrman

  Of course, the O’Deares’ white column wealth wasn’t much stronger than their home’s Styrofoam facade. Sure, they had a decent income, but their lifestyle was financed almost 100 percent by Visa, Mastercard, and Maurine’s Bed, Bath, & Beyond card. They were American enough to believe that next month would always be better than the last.

  When Ruby, Ming, and the dogs walked in, her mother greeted them with mock annoyance, glaring out from under a dramatic sweep of freshly dyed hair. “Ruby Bird O’Deare! You are an hour late for dinner. We are all starving waiting on you, Miss. And where did these dogs come from?” Maurine was Spanxed into an hourglass figure and wearing a white shirt with the collar flipped up. From a distance, she could be mistaken for Sharon Osbourne.

  Ming started snickering, as she did every time she heard Ruby’s mother call her Ruby Bird. “Maurine, I’ve always wanted to ask you where you came up with that middle name.”

  Maurine forgot the dogs when asked to recount her story. “Oh no. It was my pet name for Rubes while I was pregnant. I called her ‘my Lil’ Bird’ so much, it felt like her name. I thought I might as well put it on the certificate.”

  “That’s sort of sweet,” said Ming, whose family wasn’t the type to acknowledge sentiment. Ming’s family was of the “no Santa Claus, no Easter Bunny, and no free lunch” school of thought.

  Still fixated on the name conversation, Maurine said, “I started calling her Lil’ Bird because there were some mama birds nesting right across the street when I was pregnant. They were so sweet and I felt a sort of kinship with them, us all being mamas.”

  “You mean where the Biomall is?”

  “Yep, it used to be a marsh over there and the birds loved it. They were some kind of sweet little bluebird. In the 1800s, settlers shot most of them and made them into hats.” Like many of Maurine’s statements, no one knew exactly the right response, so after a moment, she embellished the story. “I don’t just mean the feathers. I saw pictures of the hats at the museum once. They must have had taxidermists mount the whole bird. The poor little things died for fashion.”

  “Sounds like an honorable death to me,” said Ming.

  Maurine ignored Ming’s statement. “Believe it or not, I was president of the bird-watching club in those days.” Ruby took her mom’s tears for what they were. If given the choice between a really great hat and the continued existence of birds, her mom would choose the hat any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Not that Ruby wouldn’t.

  Shaking off the remembered bird drama, Maurine breathed in and squared her shoulders. “Ruby, someone special is dropping by a little later.” Her voice dripped with suggestion.

  Ruby let loose a multi-pitched squeel of protest. “Ugh, Mom. Are you serious?”

  “Oh. You’re not going to complain when you seem him. He’s just dropping by for a minute. I have his briefcase. He left it at a meeting I was at today.” Maurine tittered in a self-satisfied way and fluffed her Sharon Osbourne ’do.

  Ruby’s dad, Ray, laughed. Without looking away from the TV, he said, “More like she ran away with it while he wasn’t looking. I’d say she stole his briefcase.” Ruby noticed that her dad’s hair was also freshly dyed. Between the jet-black hair and sideburns, he looked like a man dressed up for a part in a play. Ruby wasn’t sure which play, but her mother was the costume designer.

  “I did no such thing, Ray.”

  “Most people don’t take their briefcases to the rest room during a meeting,” he said under his breath.

  Maurine raised her penciled-in eyebrows at Ray and shook her head. “Well, at any rate, he’s coming by to pick it up. Ruby, you might want to go freshen up a bit.” She stared for a fraction of a second too long at Ruby’s bloated tummy and unbuttoned leather pants.

  Thinking, Oh my Gaawd! (teenage inflection brought out by mother/daughter dynamics), Ruby looked at Ming and said, “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Yes, please,” Ming said. She already looked like she was second-guessing her decision to tag along for the family dinner. As Ruby started walking to the kitchen to pour Ming a glass of wine or maybe just disappear for half an hour, the doorbell rang.

  Like Mrs. Bennet on ’roids, Maurine snapped, “Ruby, I’ll answer the door. Go button your pants.”

  Ruby, who was standing around the corner on the way to the kitchen, rolled her eyes and made a show of gagging and choking herself for Ming’s benefit. When the door opened, she heard a male voice say, “Hello. You called about my briefcase.”

  Noel.

  Holy bejeezus!

  She flattened herself against the wall and tried to button her pants. She could barely suck in anymore.

  Her mother blabbered, “I’m so glad I found it before some hooligan ran off with it!” as if the Zoning Commission was a hangout for gangsters. “Come in while I fetch your briefcase. Why don’t you sit down? My daughter is here, too.” Ruby didn’t see the wink, but she was sure it had happened. “Ruby, come meet Noel.”

  She just managed to button her pants and smooth her hair before Noel caught sight of her. “Ruby! What are you doing here?”

  She took a deep breath and confessed. “This is my parents’ house.”

  Maurine practically squealed with delight, “Oh! You two already know each other. How nice! Why don’t you come in for dessert and a nightcap?”

  Even though he looked a little confused, Noel gave Ruby his adorable half smile, the one that made her feel like the only girl in the world. To her mom he said, “Thanks so much, but I really can’t.”

  Ming whispered, “You realize your mother is going to claim the baby was all her doing now regardless of the timing.”

  Maurine feigned deafness and began pouring Noel the drink he’d just declined.

  Louder, he said, “Thanks, but I really can’t stay.”

  Maurine redoubled her efforts. Still pretending not to have heard Noel, she said (too loudly), “Ruby, do you remember when you won that beauty pageant?”

  Ruby looked at Noel and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  “Isn’t she a doll? None of the men she dates are good enough for her. For instance, that boy who is living with you girls.” Maurine just shook her head.

  Ruby seethed through her grin. Her mother always did this, made up fake boyfriends, sort of like a realtor dropping hints that multiple buyers were interested. It made her feel like a desperate floozy. She smiled harder and took the drink from her mother. “Noel can’t stay, Mom.”

  “Really? Well, why don’t you walk him to the door?” Maurine’s tone was unmistakable. She wanted Ruby to walk him to the door and close the deal now that she had pitched her as a high-end property with multiple bidders.

  Ruby, who simply wanted to extract Noel from her mother’s company as soon as possible, said, “Feel free to start dinner. I’ll be right back.”

  She opened the door and ushered Noel outside, mainly so her mother couldn’t eavesdrop. Standing on her parents’ front step with Noel, she had a flashback to high school, something that had been happening way too often recently. She started to apologize, “I’m really sorry my mom—”

  “Don’t worry about it. It was good to see you.” He pushed a few wisps of hair out of her face. Then, with a voice that was as much inquisitive as joking, he asked, “So seriously, you’re not seeing anyone else?”

  “No, I’m not.” She paused for emphasis and said, “I’m really excited for our date.” She didn’t bother to explain her mother’s blathering about men. Her best strategy, she figured, was to pretend like it didn’t happen.

  “What about that other guy your mom mentioned?”

  Ruby waved dismissively. “No worries.”

  “Well, how about seven o’clock on Friday? We can go out to the Biobar and then catch a concert.” The Biobar was the Biomall’s fanciest bar. It only served things like barrel-aged martinis and handcrafted liquors. Because it was on the main floor of the mall and only enclosed with James Bond-style aquarium walls, Biomall shoppers tr
eated the bar like a zoo exhibit. It rarely disappointed.

  “That sounds perfect.” Ruby smiled brightly, but she was thinking, I can’t put it off much longer. I’m going to have to tell him I’m pregnant. She pushed that thought aside to enjoy the moment. Standing before her was her dream man. He was asking her, Ruby O’Deare, out for a romantic evening—even after meeting her mother. She was standing on a step and he on the ground, which left them staring into each other’s eyes. Well, she couldn’t see his eyes too well. A car dealer had parked a bunch of luxury cars right across the street in the Biomall parking lot and lit them up with a dozen high-powered spotlights. A wayward light was shining into her eyes at an angle that left her squinting into Noel’s face, obscuring his features and outlining him in a halo of light. Even though she couldn’t see his face, she filled in the details with her mind’s eye: heavy lidded blue eyes and lips slightly parted to whisper her name… Perfect.

  The moment was tingly, exciting, and filled with promise. She moved a little closer to him. Then he to her, their attraction pulling them toward each other like magnets, the pull growing as the distance closed. Not able to stand it any longer, Ruby leaned all the way in. After she made the first move, Noel didn’t hesitate. He placed his hands gently on her upper arms and kissed her gently, but the kiss quickly turned breathless. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself into him. After a moment he picked her up and lifted her down to his level and she ran her hands up his arms feeling deliriously giddy. Not wanting the moment to end, she stood up on her tip-toes for one more kiss.

  In a husky voice tinged with amusement, he said, “I’m going to have to merge into the fast lane to keep up with you and all your boyfriends, aren’t I, Miss O’Deare?”

  The way he said “Miss O’Deare” made her insides tingle. She was going to laugh and tell him her mother made up all those stories about other men, but as she reflected on her history with Noel, she realized it might take a while to undo his assumptions and her mother’s insinuations. After all, the first time they’d hung out she blacked out and got pregnant. She’d have to tell him that soon, but for tonight she whispered into his collar, “I can’t wait for Friday.”

  With a smile, he said, “Me, either.”

  This time, when she looked up at his face, they had traded positions. The lights from the Biomall weren’t in her face anymore. With his features clear, she realized his eyes weren’t blue. They were brown. Ming’s comment hit her like a fly ball from left field. Am I seeing in Ken-Vision? If so, what else do I have wrong?

  With a final good-bye kiss, he left her standing on her parents’ stoop, thoroughly kissed, tasting of pumpkitini, and hoping that she wasn’t blinded by her infatuation.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Follow the Yellow Brick Road

  The next morning Ruby decided to take care of business. Since this didn’t happen often, she rode the wave of taskmaster energy until she’d exhausted her list. Not only did she schedule a baby appointment and an ultrasound, she called a contractor to install a fence in the back yard. Next, she found a neighbor kid to walk Debbie and Charmaine after school for seven dollars a pop. Debbie had been right to laugh at her. At sixty dollars a day, Doggie Daycare should provide Debbie and Charmaine with steak in a crystal dish and velvet beds. Instead, they got dry biscuits and cramped quarters, which they shared with Karma. As she ate dry cereal and anticipated seeing Destinee at work, Ruby decided it would be unethical to inflict her own life on her dogs. She wanted better for them.

  At work she kept it together, even for a meeting with Destinee. By two o’clock, Ruby needed a break, but from legal work, rather than the mind-numbing exhaustion of obliquely confronting the void of existence through meaningless social media interactions. “Hey, Liv. I’m going to stretch my legs. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

  “See you then,” Olivia said.

  As Ruby wandered out of the office toward the shops, she caught herself wondering if Noel would call or email while she was out. She could hope.

  She hit the Biomall’s Yellow Brick Road, or as locals called it, the YBR. Emerald didn’t pander to Wizard fans much, at least intentionally. The munchkin statues decorating every street corner had been nothing but a happy accident. Usually, the town tried to avoid the whole cliché, but in this one instance, Oz had caved, partially because the gold-tone tiles he’d picked out for the mall walkway happened to look yellow anyway. Instead of fighting it, he let it happen.

  The “Yellow Brick Road” meandered through the entire mall, looping past every store, and basically winding in a circle with no discernible beginning or end, just one big parade of high-end stores, expensive snack food, and the occasional water feature. Without really advanced spatial skills, the looping feature wasn’t immediately apparent. Ruby had a blind date once who suggested they meet at the end of the Yellow Brick Road. Ruby thought it ended at the Limited and her date thought Sports Authority. Only old folks realized it was basically a perfect 10K loop with no beginning or end, making it the Mount Everest of old-timer mall walking.

  Ruby never really thought about it, even after the blind-date mishap. She just put one foot in front the other and hoped not to bump into other shoppers while she gawked at the latest bags and shoes. Taking a “walk” on the YBR translated to strolling by the new Prada bags and Betsey Johnson baubles.

  Today she headed straight for Enzo’s, which was like Kansas’s version of Barneys. She closed her eyes for a moment and absorbed the aromas, letting the smell of perfume, the cheerful chatter, the obscenely early Christmas music, and the click-clack of heels on tile floors chase away her demons. She began her routine, spritzing on perfume, flipping through some sweaters, and scoping out the formal wear.

  Then she saw them. If this were a movie, the director would cue backlighting and choral music. Brown leather, western tassels, cowgirl style. She had never liked cowboy boots, until now. Ruby felt like a cowgirl—alone, but capable. She also liked horses. The boots reminded her of her quarter horse, Pansy, a beautiful chestnut mare with a mild manner and a flowing mane. Ruby missed Pansy. Her parents had sold the horse to the neighbors when Ruby graduated from college and her mom had converted the stable to storage for extra clothes and all that Mary Kay she never sold. Ruby preferred Pansy.

  Ruby flagged down a cute red-haired clerk. “Excuse me, Miss, could I see these boots in a size eight?”

  “Aren’t they cute? We just got them in,” the clerk gushed.

  Ruby didn’t think they were cute at all. They represented the next phase of her life as an urban cowgirl, a cowgirl who could manage to have a real conversation with Noel and tell him they’d already skipped past the dating phase. If she had some cute boots, that’d be easier.

  She put the boots on. They kind of pinched her pinky toe a little, but Ruby didn’t care, assuming she could break them in. “I’ll take them.”

  “They look great on you! Totally badass.”

  “Thanks. I think I’ll just wear them out,” she said, throwing caution to the office dress-code policy. Dworkin certainly wasn’t paying attention, and Destinee, well, if Destinee had a problem, they could just have it out once and for all over a pair of cowboy boots. When Ruby had told her mom how Destinee was such a bitch, her mom had offered some insight. “That’s got to be about my 1990 nose job. I asked for the Jane Pauley and her dad gave me the Deborah Norville. Our families never spoke again after that.” Ruby figured this theory offered more insight into her parents’ debt problems than her boss’s vendetta against her.

  As she was about to stand up, Ruby saw a pair of outrageous red, high-heeled, plastic ankle booties. She flipped open the tag, which said, “High fashion PVC shoes only worn by supermodel. Very popular in Asia, Middle East, Europe, and so on.”

  Ruby was sold. “Wow! Those things are unbelievable. Are they jellies?”

  Mistaking Ruby’s tone for sarcasm, which it definitely wasn’t—Ruby would have worn those things to Burger King without blinking—t
he salesgirl said, “I know. They are so over-the-top, especially for Kansas. So far only one Judy Garland impersonator tried them on.”

  Not surprisingly, Emerald had the highest per capita number of Judy Garland impersonators. “The Judies” and Ruby always shopped at the same stores. Ruby had fought over a pair of shoes with more than one Judy.

  Ruby would have bought them on the spot, but one glance at the price tag and she said, “Whoa. Two thousand is a lot for jellies. Maybe if they go on sale.”

  On her way out, Ruby walked past the baby section. She paused for a moment. She had never seen anything sweeter than the baby snowsuits and plush blankies decorated with furry little duckies and bears. The fabrics blew her mind. She watched a fashionable mom stroll a chubby little baby through the racks of onesies. She stepped into the baby area and started flipping through some sweaters.

  On impulse, she purchased a pair of tiny footie pajamas. They were soft as a teddy bear and the color of a daffodil. While she purchased the item, she wondered about Noel and what he would think of the tiny outfit. She needed to stop being a chicken and just tell him. When she got back to her office, she slipped it under her desk. She’d tell the people at work when she felt good and ready. For the moment, the little pair of pajamas made her happy, a tangible reminder that she had something to look forward to in life besides finishing her document review project.

  Before getting back to work, she decided to indulge in her usual stroll through Facebook. Facebook, though, had nothing. She picked up The Emerald Rag from Olivia’s desk. To her shock, her picture was on the cover. With Eric. She was walking out of the police station and he had his hand on her ass.

  The headline of the article was, “Emerald’s Bad Boy Cop.” The caption under the photo said, “Eric Peterson and Ruby O’Deare leaving the police station hand in, ahem, (that’s not her hand).” The article discussed Eric’s use of the DMV and other official government databases as his own private dating websites. Ruby vaguely remembered seeing a photographer outside the station. She had assumed there was a press conference. But no, he’d been snapping a picture of her getting groped in a pair of leather pants.