“Did Ruby pray for me?”
“Every day, from the sound of it.”
I couldn’t hide the small smile that played at my lips. I felt a wave of relief washing over me. I hadn’t expected it to matter so much, but it did.
“And what about Freda? Didn’t she pray for you when you were pregnant with Ruby?
“Yes.” Kitty nodded, lost in her thoughts. “She prayed for me, Ruby, my family…”
“So if she prayed for you and your family through the generations, would that include me too?”
Kitty sighed again. I wasn’t sure if she was only trying to humor me when she said it or if she meant it. “I don’t see why not, dear. I’ve heard the prayers of a mother are the loudest to God.”
“What about you?”
“I left my faith in La Rosaleda, Lucy. When I did pray for Ruby, it didn’t work, as you know.”
The wind caught the chimes and lifted them in a crescendo that gave Kitty a welcome pause. “So faith? I’ve never been able to get it back. I’m not sure God would even want me back.”
I wondered if that could be true.
“But, Kitty, aren’t prayer and faith the same thing?”
She sighed. “Child, shouldn’t you ask Max these things? He’s a minister—surely he would know more than I do.”
My insides grew warm at the mention of Max.
“What do you think of Max?”
She smiled then, her defenses coming down. “I think it’s wise not to blindly trust men, Lucy, but he’s a fellow I think you should definitely give a chance.”
I let a sigh escape my throat, relieved to know that Kitty approved of Max.
“Just remember,” Kitty said, setting her cup on the garden table between us. “People can put on a good front. Sometimes they can trick you. Make sure you get to know Max, and don’t trust him only because he is nice or because he says he has values.” She looked at me seriously. “Make him earn it. Make him show you his heart. Then wait and see.”
She sounded like a mother then. “Trust me, I know.”
I was learning that real life was seldom like the novels I read or the love songs I’d heard. Art was just a snapshot of everything that was good, sad, or bad about love; it rarely encased everything romance was all at once.
I suddenly had the urge to bring a canvas into the garden. I wanted to fill in the memory I’d had of Ruby during the picnic. “I think I’ll paint today,” I said, changing the subject.
Kitty’s face brightened. “That’s a girl. Be true to yourself.”
“Kitty.” I waved her wizened words away. “I’m still me.”
“Of course you are,” she said, but I wasn’t really sure what she meant. “But you are in love.”
My eyes widened, and I looked at where the roses bent low toward the ground. “I do really like him,” I admitted.
From the corner of my eye I could see Kitty smiling. “So do I.”
“What do I do?” I asked.
“Nothing, dear.” She reached over and grabbed my hand. “Just be yourself, and don’t ever feel the need to do anything different than what your heart tells you to do.”
“But how do I know it’s my heart speaking?”
“You’ll just know.”
“Kitty, did my grandfather have—?”
“Yes. A true faith. The real thing. If all Christians were like him…” Her thought trailed off, and we sat quietly then.
I thought of a lady in one of my courses who had told how her family became Jewish. Her grandmother, a Catholic, had fallen in love with a Jewish man, she said. But his family had refused to give their blessing to the relationship unless she converted to Judaism. Her grandmother began a long journey to learn about the Jewish faith, eventually breaking away from her past religion and embracing the faith of her fiancé. Theirs had a happy ending.
Could I—would I even be willing to—embark on such a journey? If not, could two people who loved each other give up their beliefs for each other?
As soon as the thought entered my mind I wanted to dismiss it. Asking Max to choose between me or a God I wasn’t sure of, a faith I wasn’t ready to leap into, would be wrong.
A breeze caught the chimes again, and I realized I was already exhausted and I hadn’t even had lunch. I needed to eat and get my paints.
“Grilled tuna and cheese?” I offered.
Kitty looked amused. “Of course! I look forward to your gourmet skills in the kitchen, dear. Let’s have your best meal.”
I laughed at her reference to the meal I knew how to cook best. We didn’t have full meals except on Friday and Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons, and those were only cooked by Kitty, with me, her lovely assistant, helping out.
“Well,” I joked, walking into the house, “it looks like there are some men out in the big world who like to cook, so maybe I’ll be okay after all.”
We both laughed, but I wasn’t completely joking. If I ever did get married, it would have to be to someone who liked to cook or who didn’t mind grilled tuna and cheese several times a week.
Kitty took her usual spot in the kitchen, and I soon had the sandwiches toasted and had heated two servings of leftover tomato soup Kitty had made from her garden tomatoes the day before. Just as we sat down, the telephone rang. We both stared at it. We were together, so who could be calling?
I got up to answer the phone, my heart quickening at the thought that it might be Max. My voice was disappointed when it was Susannah, even if I was glad to hear from her. And then I panicked as I remembered I’d never called her on Saturday.
When I hung up, I asked Kitty if she’d like to meet Susannah at the hospital to visit with Mary this afternoon.
“Absolutely. But why at the hospital?”
“Her surgery, remember? It was yesterday.”
“But she was only just diagnosed. I almost forgot,” Kitty protested.
“I know.”
We ate in silence, both of us lost in thought. There was so much to think about lately. I wondered where our simple, reclusive life had gone. Having friends kept people busier than I’d ever imagined.
At the hospital, Susannah, Kitty, and I all sat around Mary’s bed talking. Mary had responded warmly to Kitty, and the two had hit it off immediately. Susannah seemed happy I’d brought Kitty with me.
I hadn’t gone through anyone’s death since Ruby’s. I didn’t know Mary that well personally, but I felt I did through Susannah, and I hoped Mary wouldn’t die.
After a while I patted Susannah’s hand and got up. She started to follow, but I shook my head and whispered, “You need to be with your mom.”
She nodded and sat back down as I headed out the door. I didn’t know where to go; I just knew it had to be away from seeing Mary’s sad face. It reminded me too much of Ruby and the day she died. And I still remembered Kitty’s pain more than my own, how it had surrounded us both like a thick mire of blackness.
15
I found my way into the cafeteria, ordered a latte from the café cart, and sought out a table in a quiet corner where I could be alone. I let the hot liquid seep into my bones even as it scalded my throat. I didn’t care. The pain kept me in the moment, where I wanted to be, instead of back in Mary’s room or back even further in Ruby’s room. I bowed my head and allowed my eyes to close, willing myself to relax. I needed to relax; I could feel the familiar tightening in my throat and chest, but I’d forgotten my inhaler at home again.
So much like your mother, Kitty had accused before.
I needed to concentrate on taking deep breaths.
“Excuse me.”
I looked up. The familiar voice belonged to Dr. Larimer.
“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
I realized it had been nearly six months since I’d had a checkup. “I’m sorry, Dr. Larimer, Kitty has been trying to get me to go, but I’ve been so busy with school…”
He sat down beside me and patted my back.
“How are you
, Lucy?”
“Oh, fine.” I smiled weakly.
I recalled Kitty’s comments about Ruby’s connection with Dr. Larimer. I hadn’t had time to follow up on it with all the excitement about Max and the other new revelations.
I shook my head. “It’s so hard to sit in a hospital room. Do you know Mary in room 215?”
“I do. She’s in good hands.”
“I’m glad for that.”
“She’s your friend, right?”
I nodded. “She’s my friend, but it’s so much more, Dr. Larimer.”
“So much more of what?” he pressed.
I felt awkward. “You’re my doctor—you don’t have time to hear my personal problems.”
“Not true,” he said. “You’re a special patient, Lucy. I’ve been treating your family for years. In fact, did you know it was my father who helped Kitty during your mom’s birth?”
I raised my chin. The unspoken was finally being said.
“Yes.” I felt relieved. “I mean, I didn’t know before, but I’ve been asking Kitty questions. It’s all just too… crazy, you know? That Kitty never told me who you really were. I’m not sure what to believe.” I coughed and he patted my back.
“Where’s your inhaler?”
I looked guilty and didn’t answer.
He smiled knowingly. “Come with me. I’m on a break and have a half hour.”
We made our way to the pharmacy, and I waited outside. He came out with my prescription filled, and I wasted no time inhaling the passage-opening medicine. We walked out to the hospital garden and sat down by some rosebushes that were showing off deep pink and red blossoms.
“When I was a resident, sometimes your mom would come meet me here. We’d talk.”
“About…?”
“About you,” he said.
I tried to imagine Ruby, sitting here by what might have been those very same rosebushes. I caught a trail of their sweetness in the air.
“She liked roses.” A sudden memory flashed through my mind, how we would pick roses in our garden and put them on the kitchen and coffee tables. I thought of the vase on the table the day Ruby died, where she normally would have left her inhaler. Roses were one flower variety that didn’t bother her too much, not that she ever would have gone without flowers anyway. She loved them too much.
“You still have the garden?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s beautiful. Kitty takes such good care of it.”
“Your mom did too.”
I glanced at him. “How do you know?”
“Do you really want to know?” he asked.
I nodded, relieved that this unspoken tie between us was finally being acknowledged. I had a feeling that even Kitty might not know everything that had gone on between Dr. Larimer and Ruby.
“Do you remember when I came to visit you at your house, Lucy?”
Surprised, I shook my head. “I still barely remember anything before…”
“That day,” he finished.
I nodded.
“Did you know I was friends with your mom when we were children?”
I smiled at the thought of him and Ruby being childhood playmates. “I know that you were friends until she and Kitty left La Rosaleda, when Ruby was really young. You were her best childhood friend.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “It was strange. Years after she left La Rosaleda, we ran into each other at Pier 39. That’s where she and her friends liked to hang out on Saturdays. I recognized her right away. Even though she’d turned into a woman, a very beautiful woman.”
“Did she recognize you?”
“No. She was busy watching and talking to the seals.”
I smiled, the story Kitty had told me about Ruby talking to the seals when she was little still fresh in my mind.
“I watched for a while. It had been more than ten years, maybe fifteen. Then I couldn’t stop myself. I strode up, meaning to say hi, but I was so nervous I couldn’t say anything.”
I smiled at the thought of Dr. Larimer being at a loss for words. He’d always been so professional and well-spoken. Of course, I’d only known “Doctor Larimer,” not Matt.
“What did she say?”
“Nothing, she and her friends just laughed at me.” He chuckled. “It was pretty embarrassing. But finally she asked who I was, and as soon as I said Matt, she threw herself into my arms.”
I tried to picture Ruby wearing one of her worn pairs of jeans and a few colorful tank tops layered on top of each other, the way she would be in our memories forever, throwing herself into young Dr. Larimer’s arms. I couldn’t say anything. Hearing about her, like she was a real person and not just Kitty’s ghost daughter, was… glorious.
“After that we spent every day together, at least every day we could until I had to go back to school. It was the best summer of my life.”
“But you were just friends, right?”
“Did Kitty tell you that?”
“Ruby told Kitty that.” I wondered at his expression.
“That explains a lot.” I waited for him to say more, but he seemed finished.
“Please,” I said. “I need to know.”
“Okay, but Kitty probably won’t appreciate my telling you.”
“It’s okay.”
“We were in love,” he said somewhat shyly. Since he was now married with children of his own, I wondered if it was embarrassing for him to talk about a past relationship.
“I was away at medical school, but every free weekend, I flew back to see her.”
“Really?” This new bit of information amazed me. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected.
“I stayed with some friends of mine, but they hardly saw me because Ruby and I spent every minute we could walking along the shore, going to the wharf, and of course eating, especially at Mexican restaurants.”
I smiled, not surprised. “She had my grandmother’s taste for good food?”
He glanced at his watch. “Look, Lucy. I don’t want to leave you hanging, but I’m running out of time. Promise me we’ll talk more later if I don’t get to finish?”
I nodded.
“There were several weeks when I couldn’t go see your mom. I had finals, and well, some other things I’ll have to explain later, but Ruby had a really hard time. We got into a fight, and while she was mad at me she started hanging out with this older man she’d met.”
I nodded. “Kitty told me about George Fields. He’s my father, right?”
He looked hurt. “Is that who she said he was?”
I nodded.
“I’m sorry to say he wasn’t a very nice man to Ruby. I’m sure he would have made a terrible father.”
His words stung.
“It’s a really complicated story, but…” The sound of the beeper made us jump, and he looked regretful. “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk more about this later?”
“I do.”
“You’re a good kid,” he said, ruffling my hair like he had when I was twelve. “Listen, I have most weekends off, and maybe after church on a Sunday I could get my family settled and we could meet at that coffee shop—Martha’s, is it?—down the road from your mom’s.” He paused. “I mean down the road from your and Miss Kitty’s house.”
He winked and ran off while I sat feeling dejected and insignificant. Everyone knew so much more about Ruby than I did. How could I have seen him for years and not known? It made perfect sense as I thought of many comments he’d made about knowing Ruby, how he’d been so affectionate with Kitty.
I wondered if he knew the whole story of how Ruby died—and if he too blamed me for her death?
16
I was painting near the patio doors when the doorbell rang the first time. I leaned in closer to the canvas, trying to finish the last few strokes needed to fill in an area of a backyard garden. The second time I took a breath and hoped it was just a salesman who would go away.
But when the bell rang a third time, I gave up, put the lid on my paints, and flung open the door
.
My hand flew to my chest as a spray of deep red roses materialized—the fragrant kind, tied together with a silk ribbon.
“Oh my goodness!” I called to tell Kitty to come see but remembered she was at the museum. When I turned back I caught sight of the deliverer’s footwear. Jesus sandals. “Max!”
The roses now hung by his side. “Guilty.”
He opened his arms. “A hug?”
I only hesitated a moment. I raised myself on tiptoe till his arms were snug and warm around me and his breath on my neck sent little shivers crawling down my spine.
“Are you going to invite me in?”
“Oh! Yes!”
I rushed to the kitchen to get some scissors and a vase, and we took turns clipping the ends of the roses and arranging them in the vase.
“Breathtaking!” I exclaimed, setting them on the coffee table in the living room.
“Like you.”
I was amazed at how he could make my insides bubble and pop like I’d swallowed a Mexican jumping bean. I sat on the couch, where Max sat beside me and took my hand.
“Susannah and her husband asked me to go to a food festival with them in Old Town this evening.”
“Oh really?” I asked, surprised at how stiff my voice sounded.
He nodded, seeming more nervous than the Max I was used to.
I hesitated. “Are you asking…?”
He seemed to come to his senses then, and I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.
Turning toward me he said, “I’m asking if you want to go too. It sounds fun. And… we could invite Kitty too.”
“Or maybe Kitty doesn’t need to come along this time.”
“That would be great. I mean, not great that she isn’t going, but…”
I needed a moment to collect my own nerves, so I excused myself to go change; when I returned, Max was looking through the photo album Kitty kept on the coffee table. “You were a cute kid,” he said.
“Thanks. Not hard to do when you’re a little girl.”
“You still make it look easy.” He kept turning pages.
I took a breath, promising myself I wouldn’t hyperventilate in front of him. I sat down beside him to view the album even though I’d thumbed through it nearly every day and already knew the details of every photo without even looking. Then, as Max turned the final page, I noticed one of the pictures coming loose from its holders. I reached over to push it back into place, and it popped up from the page and flipped onto the floor.
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