Ruby Among Us

by Tina Ann Forkner

It was Dr. Larimer—Matt.

  “Lucy?” he asked again.

  “Hi.” The word caught in my throat. I knew what this call was about. The rest of my life hinged on the answer. I would either have a father, or he’d been lost to me because I’d already decided I would never contact George Fields. It was either Matt Larimer or I didn’t want to know.

  “Lucy.” Matt’s voice was gentle. “The results were inconclusive.”

  “Inconclusive?” I never imagined this. “Does that mean yes or no?”

  “Yes and no. What it means is that our tests didn’t prove or disprove anything. We can have the tests run again if we want. Maybe by a private agency with technicians who specialize—”

  He paused, but I kept quiet. My head was spinning, and more tears began to surface. The new emptiness in my chest was so barren that I felt another asthma attack coming on, and I fumbled once more for the inhaler. “I so wanted to have a father,” I whispered.

  “Lucy?” Matt was concerned.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You expected the results to be positive?” He sounded hopeful.

  “I was hoping for a yes.”

  I heard him sigh. “Me too.”

  “You said we can have them taken again?”

  “Yes, if you want. So… how is your day?”

  Now it was I who took a deep breath before answering.

  “I’m in La Rosaleda.”

  “Lucy, that’s great! Is Kitty with you?”

  “No. She knows I’m here, but she didn’t want to come.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure she’s terrified if you’re there.”

  “I wish she wouldn’t be that way. She’s usually the bravest person I know.”

  “Me too,” he said, and I smiled at how well we knew her.

  “What’s she doing today? Do you know?”

  “Gardening.”

  “Ha! Why did I even ask? Are you coming back tonight?”

  “I’m not sure yet. It was our plan, but I don’t know. I haven’t exactly felt like knocking on my grandfather’s door. In fact, the gate is locked.”

  “I should have warned you. Blake got tired of the tourists. And some tour guides have been making up sensational stories in order to get the tourists excited, so he was definitely tired of dealing with that.”

  “We heard firsthand the rumors being passed around town,” I said dully.

  “Ignore those. As for Kitty, maybe I’ll stop by and see if she’d like to take a walk this evening, just in case you aren’t home by then. I don’t think she’s spent a night without you since you were little. She must be lonely.”

  “I’m sure that would be nice.”

  “Lucy,” he said softly.

  I pressed my ear into the phone.

  “I’m sorry the results didn’t come back the way we wanted.”

  My heart stretched toward his. I’d never wanted a father more, and Matt was the one I wanted, the man who had loved my mother even after death, someone who could share who she really was with me. Someone who knew her as Kitty never did—not as a daughter but as a woman with dreams and plans. I breathed deeply, trying to fill that place in my lungs that would never be full no matter how many inhalers I tried.

  “Me too.”

  I hung up. Max couldn’t help but hear, and I whispered apologies as we pulled back up to the square.

  I covered my eyes with my hands, embarrassed to be crying. Again. But Max leaned across the gearshift and pulled me into an embrace.

  Max pulled away and looked me over. I was a mess, like a child with a teary face and mussed hair.

  Again he asked if I would like to go home. His voice was filled with compassion, and for a moment it made me feel angry. Tears didn’t make me an idiot or some breakable thing. Why did everyone think I was too weak to handle the truth?

  “No,” I said, a speck of the irritability in my voice.

  He frowned.

  “I really don’t.”

  “I just thought it might help you to be with Kitty right now.”

  “It would help me tremendously,” I agreed, my voice softening. “But it wouldn’t help Kitty at all. I haven’t even told her about the blood tests yet.”

  She would react with anger pure and simple. She would feel betrayed, and we would argue. A stab of guilt hit me again at the thought of our recent unkind words. I was so ashamed of some of the things I’d said to her out of my desperation to dig up the past.

  “Do you want to stay all night in La Rosaleda?” Max blushed, suddenly aware that he might have sounded inappropriate.

  “We could,” I said. “But…in two rooms.”

  “Of course.” He let out a relieved breath. “We could drive to Santa Rosa, get a couple of hotel rooms, and come back tomorrow morning. That way you can take a little break from all this.”

  “But…” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the key Kitty had given me. “We haven’t seen the loft yet. I’d really like to take a look at Kitty’s first home, where Ruby lived when she was a baby.”

  Suddenly I was sweating and panicky. I surprised myself at how afraid I felt to walk into that loft. I couldn’t explain it, but the thought nagged at me that there might be something in there to cause Kitty or me more pain. And I had a very strong feeling that once I stepped into that world, where pieces of Ruby surely would surround me, there would be no turning back. Unlocking that loft meant no more secrets and no more feeling lost, and I was surprised at how I’d become so used to living with both.

  “Whatever you want to do, dear.”

  Was he teasing me by calling me dear like Kitty?

  “I’m just the chauffeur,” he added.

  I laughed softly, and then we both were laughing together, neither one of us sure what was so funny. By the time we took deep breaths and tried to quiet ourselves, the world seemed better. It had felt good to laugh instead of cry. Max reached out and tousled my hair as if I were his kid sister instead of the girl he had a crush on, and I realized I’d laughed more since I’d met him and Susannah than I’d laughed my whole life. Kitty and I had plenty of fun, but we’d found our joy in music, art, her feeble attempts at teaching me to quilt, summer walks, and old movies. We weren’t chucklers or belly laughers like Max and Susannah.

  And like Ruby. I remembered my mother’s laughter on the last day she and I were together. Ruby laughed loud, a laugh that rang through the house and still filled my mind. I grinned, wishing I could go back and be little again, hanging out in my Barbie nightgown until late morning, playing in Ruby’s things, giggling and laughing so hard as she tickled me that I couldn’t handle the happiness in my belly anymore.

  “A nice memory?” Max asked. He’d grown quiet and was staring at me inquisitively.

  “Yes. A really good one.”

  We shared a smile, and I took a mental picture of the way his thick eyebrows raised and lowered. Another really good memory I wanted to keep.

  “So shall we go up now? Or tomorrow?”

  I wasn’t afraid anymore. But I also didn’t feel the need to rush to the loft all of a sudden. What could be so scary about visiting an old, dusty loft anyway? I wanted to see where my mother had lived once and why Kitty had loved it so much.

  “You know, I really want to go up now, but let’s wait. I think I’ve had enough surprises.”

  I didn’t say it aloud, but I also wanted to be able to savor the moment when I walked into the loft, whether I’d meet gloom or joy. It would be like on Christmas morning, when I would go straight to Kitty’s bedroom and wake her up instead of going to the Christmas tree like most children.

  I’d ask, “What do you think is in there?”

  And she’d sleepily smile, get into her fuzzy blue robe, and join in the game. “I don’t know, dear. What do you think is under that tree?”

  “Maybe a doll with clothes and a stroller.”

  “You think?”

  I’d nod my head vigorously, and she’d take my hand in hers. “Wel
l, let’s go see!”

  And after five or so minutes of savoring what was to come, we’d shuffle into the living room where the tree stood lit. The lights would brighten with what seemed a glowing orb around each one and where I imagined the Christmas fairies themselves lived.

  Kitty never got to sleep in on Christmas morning like some parents did. She was my only playmate, my best friend; she’d always been so patient about my need to savor the moment before I jumped in, and I’d wanted her to share every special moment with me.

  If only Kitty could be here too when we first go into the loft. It was hers. She should be able to experience her homecoming before I made my own entrance into the past.

  “Well,” I said finally. “I think I want to wait until tomorrow to be fresh and awake when I experience this place for the first time.”

  Max nodded. “I agree. Besides,” he grinned widely, “I know this great Mexican restaurant in Santa Rosa that would cheer up any senorita. You’ve never had enchiladas like theirs. I guarantee it.”

  “Oh really?” I countered. “Is this a place where you take all your senoritas?”

  “Absolutely!”

  I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “No, just the worthy ones, like you and my mother.”

  I chuckled, wondering if I should believe him but not really caring in the least. I was, after all, the only senorita holding his hand at the moment.

  After dinner, clutching our bags of hurriedly purchased toiletries and clean shirts, we said good night to settle into our own rooms at the hotel in Santa Rosa.

  “Thanks for driving me around,” I whispered. “Thanks so much for bringing me here and spending the day with me.”

  “I know this is an important weekend for you.”

  “Maybe the most important weekend in my life.”

  “So far.” He grinned.

  I blushed. I couldn’t pretend anymore that he wasn’t alluding to some kind of a future together; it made me feel elated and nervous at the same time.

  “Will you be scared by yourself? Have you ever spent the evening alone before?”

  “No, but I do sleep in my own room now instead of Kitty’s,” I joked.

  He leaned forward.

  I found myself hoping this would be the moment, but I think the whole hotel room atmosphere made him nervous. Instead of the kiss I expected, an end to the evening like in one of Kitty’s old movies, Max gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

  Nervous myself, I backed up a few inches.

  Max smiled wryly. “Lucy, I really care about you a lot. But if I stay in your room another moment, I’m afraid I’ll open doors that will be impossible to shut.”

  He tried to laugh nervously as he swallowed hard and looked down at me.

  “How do you know the doors are unlocked?” I surprised him by saying.

  He grinned, looking put in his place.

  “I see what you’re saying. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that you…”

  He shook his head as if he realized at that moment that he’d blown it. But he hadn’t.

  Max leaned forward and pressed his forehead against mine. I noticed that his breathing was warm and shaky, the moisture of it floating around my face, and I realized I was sharing his air when I took a shaky breath of my own. He leaned even closer and brushed his lips on my cheek, and I felt what it meant when romance novelists said people could sprout wings and fly straight to the heaven that Max was so sure was up there.

  How in the world could I fall for this Cinderella fairy tale stuff?

  Kitty had always called it silly, but now I think she had been dishonest. Surely she’d felt like this with Blake.

  I never knew a kiss could be so awkward and flawless at the same time, his lips so warm and light on mine.

  He held me at arm’s length.

  “Not bad for a youth pastor.”

  He laughed, that loud belly laugh I so loved, and pulled me into a bear hug.

  “Good night.” He pecked me on the nose.

  “Good night.” The door clicked shut; I turned and threw myself across the bed, my heart bursting with a sudden happiness I hadn’t felt since… well… never.

  32

  We’d agreed to wait on breakfast until we were in La Rosaleda the next morning. Nothing was open around the square when we got there except the B&B we’d visited the day before and a small breakfast café sandwiched between two souvenir shops: Carlos’s diner.

  I looked through the windows at the folks seated around the room, and it was obvious from the casual atmosphere that we were at a joint for locals. A bell above the door jingled as we walked in, and everyone glanced up from behind newspapers and over steaming cups of coffee. Some folks were dressed in what I presumed to be church clothes, and a few of the men looked ready for work with wrinkled, faded blue jeans and baseball caps lying beside their plates of half-eaten eggs and bacon. I smiled to myself as Max quickly pulled off his own baseball cap.

  A man behind the counter nodded and pointed to a table near the window. Conversation soon resumed, and a perky waitress dressed in a blue dress uniform and an old-fashioned lacy apron approached us.

  “I’m ravenous,” Max said to me. “Will you think I’m a pig if I order the big enchilada breakfast?”

  “No. But I will think you’re a Mexican food fanatic since we just had it last night.”

  “I am,” he confessed.

  The waitress winked. “There’s no better Mexican food in the Valley than here.”

  I had to smile at the faith she had in the little restaurant with its fifties-style furniture, sparse décor, and mustard-colored seat cushions.

  “I’ll just have the buckwheat pancakes and fruit,” I said.

  Max peered at the menu. “And they’re made with organic ingredients. Kitty would be proud.”

  I grinned. “Do you have something against organic food?”

  “No,” he teased. “I’m just jealous of you and Kitty’s discipline. You’d think as a youth minister, I’d be the one worried about taking better care of my body, a temple of God, you know.” He winked.

  I rolled my eyes and snickered at him, starting to get used to his wry sense of humor. The waitress was laughing, so somehow she got it.

  “You probably shouldn’t encourage him.”

  The man behind the counter, who I guessed was Carlos, delivered our food a few minutes later.

  “What brings you around these parts?”

  I let Max answer for us.

  “Oh, just bringing my friend here to show her the roses.”

  The man, an elderly gentleman who looked to be of Latino heritage, said with an accent, “This is why we call it La Rosaleda. We are a city of roses! A beautiful place to bring your senorita.”

  I blushed.

  “Yes,” he continued, “a wonderful place to bring your sweetheart.” He must have noticed the way I was staring down at my plate because he said, “You are sweethearts, no?”

  I looked up and smiled. “Yes.”

  Max’s hand slipped across the table and squeezed mine.

  “A nice couple. I’ll leave you two to enjoy your breakfast then. Enjoy your day in La Rosaleda too.”

  “Oh, we will, won’t we, Maria?”

  “I’m sure of it,” I said, smiling at Max’s use of my first name. It sounded familiar on his tongue.

  The man turned back around. “Your name is Maria?”

  “Yes,” I said, a warning signal suddenly going off.

  “Ah,” he said. “The name Maria brings back so many memories. There used to be a little girl who would come here with her abuelo and mama, a young single mother.”

  My heart leapt.

  “You don’t say?” Max said.

  “Sí!” said the man. He smiled to himself. “And they usually sat at this very table so the little girl could see the ducks. Precious child. But that was before the poor niña’s mother passed away. We called her little Lucy.”

  A scene began to unfold in my mind. Ruby’
s laughter. The bell at the door tinkling when we walked in. My grandfather waiting for us at our table. Grandpa’s lap, his kind face and gentle smile.

  “The little girl and her abuelo always had the same,” the man was saying. “Pancakes and strawberries. Same as you’re having now, miss.”

  I looked up at him, and for a moment I thought there was recognition. He gazed out the window toward the fountain. “Sí…Lucy made everyone in La Rosaleda smile.”

  “What was the grandfather’s name?” Max asked.

  The man pulled his gaze away from mine. “Oh,” he said. “The gentleman still comes in here occasionally. I don’t want to spread his business to out-of-towners. You understand?”

  “Definitely,” Max said.

  He looked back at me. “The little girl always looked like her mama. You kind of have the same look, senorita. Are you Mexican?”

  “Somewhere back in my history, I am.” I nodded, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many questions. “It runs through my maternal side.”

  “I can see that. Anyway,” he said quickly. “I’m holding you up from your breakfast.”

  “It’s fine,” I said.

  He nodded and walked away.

  Max and I leaned toward each other.

  “I think maybe he recognized you. Or at least he might have been thinking something.”

  “I do look like my mother and Kitty, though not quite as dark in coloring.”

  He reached out and brushed one of my stray curls out of my eyes.

  “What should we do?” I asked.

  “We can’t be paranoid. You aren’t a criminal, and we aren’t exactly in hiding. I just don’t want you to be forced into being the lost granddaughter until you’re ready. Let’s just enjoy our breakfast.”

  Max didn’t look as relaxed as he sounded. I followed his eyes across the room, where the man was on the phone.

  “He could be on the phone to anyone, right?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  But I thought about what Max had said the day before, about possibly stirring up the town and those who might want to exploit my arrival. Or maybe those who might just want to let my grandfather know I was in La Rosaleda, especially if they thought I had been lost. Maybe the man knew my grandfather personally; if so maybe he would call.