Little Red Gem

by D L Richardson

  “Oh. If you don’t mind me asking, how long were you and Mr. Upton married?”

  “Fifty years.” Her smile quivered in wariness. “If there’s something you want to ask me, just ask. One of the disadvantages of being old is you no longer have the time or energy to beat around the bush.”

  “Sorry. I’m just sorting things out in my head.”

  If only she’d stop staring at me like she had accusations ready to leap out of her mouth. I must have been imaging it. This was Mrs. Upton, the nice old lady who liked us to sing songs that reminded her of her departed husband. Not my judge and jury.

  “How did you know that you and Mr. Upton would be together forever?”

  She reached for a spoon and the sugar bowl, and took her time to stir through two teaspoons of sugar. After an eternity, she turned her gaze to me. “I guess we didn’t know, but we worked hard at our marriage. It wasn’t like today where you can get divorced the moment you discover too late that your husband has issues. Back then, you had to live with your choices.”

  Mrs. Upton’s shoulders slumped and I suspected she was divulging something very personal about her past. A chill settled on me. I’d only wanted to ask the secret to a lasting relationship, not open what now appeared to be old wounds.

  She took a sip of her tea and talked over the rim of the cup. “You asked me before about children. Now that you’ve opened that door, I’ll let you in. People these days think nothing of telling everyone they suffer from depression. But in my day, it was seen as a sign of weakness. Mr. Upton was a good man, but he was not a good provider. Couldn’t keep a job due to his mood swings. We would have been out on the streets if it wasn’t for the inheritance he’d received at twenty-one. But the money didn’t last long, especially not after the drinking began. I was forced to return to my job as a secretary. I resented him for deceiving me.” She set the cup down and her voice suddenly raised a notch. “You shouldn’t present yourself as something you’re not.”

  I realized too late that I shouldn’t have brought up the subject. It wasn’t like I knew her well, or at all, except as a member of a small audience that my friends and I sang to for thirty minutes most Saturday mornings.

  She regained her composure. “I resented it so badly I did the only thing I could think to do to punish him. I refused to give him the children he desperately wanted. It wasn’t until he died that I realized the only person I punished was me. That’s why I ask you girls to sing Amazing Grace. Not to remind me of Mr. Upton. But to remind me of the terrible sin I will never be able to repay.”

  I stared at her, speechless, knowing I’d never again label her as a sweet old lady. And to think, I’d come close to considering her a substitute grandmother. She was as bitter from love as the next woman.

  Natalie arrived seconds later to tell me we were ready to leave, and I was glad to go. Mrs. Upton’s confession had only succeeded in troubling me further.

  When we pulled up in front of my house I counted three cars – one in the drive and two on the front lawn.

  “Wanna come to my place instead?” Shanessa whispered into my ear.

  “Tempting, but I’ll be fine.”

  Mom’s book club luncheons could get a little rowdy and I was rarely in the mood to tolerate this bunch of ladies, however, Mrs. Upton’s confession had managed to cast my mother in a new light, almost super-nova-like by comparison. I opened the front door and their laughter cracked as loud as a gunshot, yet it never failed to warm my heart to hear my mother laughing.

  She and her friends were out in the garden, but as usual a loud screeching noise prevented me from getting any deeper into the house. Our house didn’t need a burglar alarm. It had one in the shape of a peach-faced parrot called Elf. One of my mother’s infrequent ex-boyfriend’s had given the parrot to me as a birthday gift a few years ago. The bird had grown on me. The man had not. I was relieved when Mom and he had broken up. Not long after the breakup, my mom had decided to start a book club instead. I couldn’t complain, even if the gatherings were little more than an excuse for a group of thirty-something-year-old women to vent about their problems, mostly men, but at least it brought a smile to my mother’s face.

  Elf screeched at me to come over and give his beak a rub. He hopped along his perch and the moment my fingertip rubbed his beak he settled down. The laughter outside grew louder.

  “Don’t drink anything they give you,” I warned Elf, and then I headed outside.

  Mom set her glass of wine on the table and hurried over. Her heels clicked on the pavers and I was positive the lace top she wore was mine. I was pretty sure the pants were mine, too, and I made a mental note to put a lock on my wardrobe. She wrapped her arms around me and we were lucky we didn’t fall over when she teetered slightly to the left.

  “Here is my darling daughter who spends every waking minute with her boyfriend and never has any time for her mother anymore. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company today?”

  I slipped out of her embrace and surreptitiously moved toward the crackers and dip platter. I was ravenous. “I don’t spend every waking minute with Leo. I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Aren’t the boys at the cabin this weekend writing songs?” asked a lady at the far end of the table – Thomas’s mother. It was barely one o’clock and her face glowed like Santa Claus’s, though in all fairness the garden setting had lost its umbrella in a storm so it could have been sunburn. Thomas’s mother went on to tell the group all about her son’s plans to record a demo. One lady started dancing in her seat only to be sternly told by Thomas’s mother that the boys didn’t write pop songs.

  “What book are you discussing this week?” I asked, changing the subject and shooting my mother a look of defiance. “Or is the book club really an excuse to bitch about men like I keep saying it is.”

  Mom picked up a book from the table and waved it in the air. “Hah, Miss Smarty Pants. We have read a book.”

  She looked at the cover, and her face froze. She quickly slipped the book behind her back. Lunging, I easily snatched the book from her. On the cover was a bare-chested man with a square jaw line and flowing dark hair. Beneath him was draped a stunning woman wearing a bodice as transparent as tissue paper. I opened a page and read aloud:

  “Travis pulled her roughly to him and he crushed her lips with his. She would submit or she would lose everything. Selana beat her tiny hands against his chest but nothing would sway him from this action. The King would want Selana for himself if Travis did nothing to convince her to love him and not his brother…”

  I stopped reading and shot derisive looks at each of the ladies sitting around the table. “I don’t believe it. You moan and groan about men, and all this time you’ve been reading trashy romance.”

  “It’s not trash,” cried one woman. “It’s The King’s Wishes.”

  Laughter erupted once more, probably over a joke I wasn’t in on, and I stood up. “I’ll leave you bookworms to it, then.”

  Mom caught me on my way out and planted a kiss on my head. “Don’t be angry. We’re just having a bit of fun.”

  I kissed her on the cheek. “I’m not angry.”

  “Liar. Are you all right? You look a little pale.”

  That was twice today someone had told me I looked pale. “I’m fine.”

  Mom frowned, suddenly all serious. “You’re not really pining over Leo, are you? Please tell me you’re not going to go up to your room and sulk just because your boyfriend has gone away for a few days. That’s not how I raised my daughter.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

  Up in my room, I did exactly what my mother didn’t want me to do. I sulked because Leo was up at Capers Cabin where there was no cell service, and as Natalie had callously reminded me no girls were allowed either. In the six months Leo and I had dated, there wasn’t a day where we hadn’t talked either in person or by phone. Saturday afternoons were usually spent hanging around Rock-A-Lilly’s, with music blasting in the background and Le
o fixing broken drumsticks and guitar strings.

  I realized I should have taken Shanessa up on her offer to spend the afternoon at her house. My room was too quiet. Turned out I’d gotten so used to doing stuff with Leo that I didn’t know what to do without him. And I desperately wanted to hear his voice, because earlier that morning I’d finally gathered up the courage to take the pregnancy test.

  ***

  At 3:00 p.m., I heard my mother’s voice in the garden calling for coffee orders. Even though listening to music on my cell phone hadn’t lessened my boredom any, I purposely avoided going downstairs in case Mom got it into her head that I’d enjoy playing hostess to her intoxicated book club friends.

  By 5:00 p.m., I’d relocated from my room, which overlooked the garden, to my mother’s room, which overlooked the front yard, to watch the party wind up. One by one her guests left until all the cars parked out front had disappeared. At once, the house was eerily quiet. Mom stayed downstairs and I guessed she was cleaning up. Once more I paced from room to room like a caged bear in case Mom got it into her head that I’d enjoy cleaning up after her intoxicated book club friends.

  Back in my room for the hundredth time I picked up my cell phone and stared at it, silently cursing Leo for so masterfully avoiding my growing anxiety. The pregnancy test I’d taken earlier that morning indicated I was pregnant. And I had no one to talk to about it. I’d sort of tried talking to Mrs. Upton, hoping a complete stranger could provide some insight into true and everlasting love, but that had backfired. I couldn’t trust talking to Natalie, not after the one time I’d skipped school to hang with Leo and she had inadvertently blabbed. I couldn’t trust talking to Shanessa because she and Natalie had formed a secret alliance when I’d started hanging out with Leo, one I didn’t know about until Natalie had inadvertently blabbed. And no way was I going to talk to my mom about the subject. At all. Ever.

  Night crept in and my anxiety grew to enormous heights. I knew that if I was to get any peace at all I’d need to go to the cabin and see Leo.

  Mom sometimes liked to curl up on the sofa and have the TV send her off to sleep, and a quick check of her room told me she was still downstairs. Hopefully she was asleep, and when I got down the stairs I saw she was. Out of habit I did a quick inspection of the kitchen and the patio. Good. All clean. I didn’t mind my mom having friends over, so long as she cleaned up after herself.

  I found the keys to her Jeep on the side board, slipped a throw rug over her sleeping body, a cloth over Elf’s cage, and left the house. I told myself that the test might not even be accurate, but what if it was? Lately I’d had trouble gauging Leo’s thoughts, and I really needed to know how he felt about becoming a father. Before it became obvious, preferably.

  The drive to Capers Cabin took twenty minutes. By the time I arrived it was fully dark and my nerves were frayed beyond repair. I shouldn’t have driven in the dark. Not that I could have driven in daylight either; I only had my learners permit. Already I regretted coming here, and Mom would make my regret eternal if she woke up and found the car missing.

  Sitting in the car should have given me time to practice the imminent conversation with Leo in my head, but it didn’t. The silence only served to give me the creeps.

  A few minutes later I knocked on the cabin door, and scowled when Simon opened it.

  “Oh, hi,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

  “I’ll get Leo,” Simon said. Then, after a shake of his head, he closed the door in my face.

  Leo opened the door seconds later, but it was closed quickly behind him. I hadn’t been inside the cabin before and I was peeved about not being invited; Leo had told me the cabin had a hot tub and I was dying to check it out.

  “Hey, babe. What’s up?” he said.

  Leo steered me away from the front door toward the wooden love seat on the patio. With each step I felt my bravado shrink, as if my heart pounding faster was the cause.

  Leo sat down and pulled me onto his lap. His lips quickly found mine.

  “I’d love to stay out here all night,” he said after we came up for breath. “But the guys are probably counting the minutes.”

  “Oh.”

  He titled his head to the side. “What’s up, babe. You didn’t come all the way out here to give me a goodnight kiss, though I’m glad you did.”

  No longer sure about my decision to demand he prove his undying love for me, I knew I had to say something. But what?

  “I don’t want to end up like Mrs. Upton,” I said.

  “Who’s Mrs. Upton?”

  I nestled into Leo’s arms, struggling between telling him everything and telling him nothing. Right here and now with Leo, that was all that mattered. Suddenly all my problems, even the problems of the entire world were insignificant when compared to this moment.

  He nudged me. “Who’s Mrs. Upton?”

  “She is a bitter, spiteful old woman at the home. Her husband wanted kids and she refused to give him any.”

  Leo stroked my hair. “You don’t know their situation, Ruby. Maybe she did the right thing.”

  I sat up. “Are you saying you don’t want kids?”

  He fidgeted beneath me. “I don’t know. I guess. Maybe. Maybe not. I really don’t know.”

  As if he was on fire, I jumped out of his arms. The unexpected anger rose and took control. “So you would put your career first?”

  “What career? Ruby, I’m still in school.”

  “You really have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? I’m talking about our future together, Leo. You, me, you know, the future. Beyond Prom. Beyond high school. Beyond college. Leo, how much do you love me. And I mean really love me.”

  Leo stood up. “Babe, now isn’t the best time to have this discussion.”

  “I need to know.”

  “You do know.”

  Just then, Simon stuck his head outside. “You coming inside or what?”

  While Leo moved toward the door, I barged past him and started down the steps.

  Behind me, the floorboards creaked. “Ruby, come back.”

  I stopped on the bottom step and grasped tightly onto the railing. As a mistress of the furtive glance, I snuck a quick peek over my shoulder. With the door now partially open, Leo was a shape on the porch silhouetted by the glowing fire. Even immersed in shadows he captured my breath. If I’d thought I was irate before, when I spied two dark shapes skulking behind him – Simon and Thomas – my blood boiled.

  “Fuck you, Leo. I deserve better,” I hissed.

  I launched myself off the bottom steps and charged over to where I’d parked Mom’s car. Leo’s hurrying footsteps crunched on the twigs and dried leaves. He reached me and grabbed me by the arm, swinging me around to face him.

  “Ruby, I didn’t mean it.”

  “If you said it, you must have meant it.”

  His voice came out shrill. “I don’t even know what I said.”

  I kept my gaze on the night sky. One smoldering look from him and I was likely to surrender. Then the notion that I was just like the gullible heroine in the books my mom read incited my rage further.

  “What’s up, Little Red Gem?” he said. “And tell me the truth.”

  How unfair of him to resort to pet names. My resolve broke; hysteria bubbled over and escaped as a croaking sob. “You’d rather spend the rest of your life with those two than with me.”

  Leo ran his hands through his hair. “I said no such thing. You’re putting words into my mouth and I have no idea why you’re acting crazy all of a sudden.”

  “I am not crazy.” I stabbed a finger in his face. “Don’t you dare say I’m crazy.”

  His mouth widened, snapped shut, and then it settled into a grim line. “Stop putting words into my mouth. I didn’t say you’re crazy.” He shook his head and it did the trick of softening his features. “Why don’t you come inside and sit by the fire while we write songs?” He reached for me, but I took a step back. “Babe, come on, you know you’re m
y muse.”

  The way frost crunches under foot, my insides crusted over to warn me that Leo’s earlier words and my mother’s years of warnings against falling in love with the wrong man wouldn’t die so easily now that they were planted and had taken root inside my head. I had believed that Leo and I would be together forever. I still wanted to believe it.

  Badly. So why was I running away?

  I told myself to forget about this silly argument and go inside the cabin with Leo. The other boys might not like it, but I needed Leo more than they did.

  When I next blinked, instead of picturing Leo’s eyes – deep pools of chocolate, warmer than the flames hungrily licking the logs in the fire inside the cabin – what I visualized was my mother sitting on the floor in front of her closet, crying and sorting through the secret box of Dad’s stuff she thought I was clueless about.

  “Babe, please,” Leo begged. “It’s cold and the middle of the night. Come inside and we’ll even break the rule about spending the night together and continue this conversation in the morning. Did I tell you the cabin has a hot tub?”

  Through half-closed eyelids I snuck another look at him. Dammit. He was even more gorgeous this way. And then I smelled it.

  Faint, but at this close range I detected the sickly-sweet scent of alcohol. At once, I took him in with a fresh set of eyes. His lopsided grin, his messy hair, the gentle way he swayed as if he was floating on the wind…

  “Leo, have you been drinking?”

  He took a hasty step back. “What? No.” He quickly lowered his voice to a normal octave. “No. Absolutely not, babe.”

  “You’re lying. You said you were here to write songs. You said the cabin was a great place to work uninterrupted because it didn’t get cell service. If I go inside and see bottles of alcohol—”

  I took a step sideways and Leo staggered in that direction to block my path. “Babe, let’s not fight. I haven’t been drinking, okay? Simon found an opened bottle of red wine in one of the cupboards. As he poured it down the sink, he clumsily spilled some of it on my sweater. See.”