A Bride by Summer

by Sandra Steffen

  Good grief, she thought, halfway around the dining room table. Had he really just asked Nanny McPhee’s double if she’d ever been spanked?

  Ruby had arrived three minutes ahead of the first interviewee. Operating under the assumption that Ruby had never seen a baby, let alone held one, Reed had asked a gazillion questions about her capabilities. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that being his friend didn’t exempt her from careful scrutiny where Joey was concerned. She’d been only too happy to put his mind at ease, but all right already. Time was a-wasting.

  “Reed,” she’d insisted loud enough to be heard over the baby’s earsplitting wails. “I bought my first car with babysitting money. It was this sweet cobalt-blue SHO—well, it had one green door and an orange fender, but everything else was blue. Do you know how many babysitting jobs it takes to save enough money to buy a car?”

  Seeing his eyes narrow speculatively, she’d added, “That was rhetorical. Suffice it to say I was in great demand. I love babies. I love politicians who love babies. Some of my best friends used to be babies. I’m good with them. They like me. They do.”

  Joey had cried on.

  Gesturing to his little head and then to his equally little bottom, she’d said, “This is the end you feed and this is the end you diaper. See? I’m practically an expert.”

  She’d held out her hands in silent expectation. And still Reed had been reluctant to hand him over.

  “I’ll guard him with my life. I promise.”

  Magic words, evidently. The doorbell had rung while Reed was transferring the fitful baby to her arms. By the time she’d completed her second circuit through the sprawling house with its decidedly masculine furnishings, Joey’s cries had lost their vehemence and the interview for a nanny had begun.

  The first candidate of the day had been youngish and slender and not very tall. Wearing navy slacks and a white blouse befitting nannyhood, she had been as perky as Mary Poppins herself. While Ruby had walked and swayed and softly patted Joey, the young woman had recited an impressive work history for someone her age.

  Apparently the baby knew something Ruby didn’t. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and, still fussing, settled in for the ride.

  Reed had seemed impressed with the young woman’s credentials, too. In fact, he’d sounded very friendly in the interview, warm and understanding and cordial, as if he was going to be a wonderful boss. Things were going super, which apparently was Nanny Number One’s favorite word.

  A few questions about where she’d received her education led to more about where she liked to hang out and who she hung with, her favorite movies and her favorite sports team. The personal questions had turned out to be her downfall, for she developed collywobbles of the mouth, and soon she was telling Reed about her mother and soon-to-be ex-stepfather and how her boyfriend wanted to move in with her but she just wasn’t sure because she might get a dog instead, and besides he was allergic.

  Ruby closed her eyes on the young woman’s behalf. Oh, boy. Too much information.

  By the time the next woman had arrived, Joey was doing that little hiccuppy thing babies did when their crying jag was over but the memory of it remained. Notoriously too nosy for her own good, Ruby had peeked out the window and watched as a heavyset woman ambled up the sidewalk. Looking very much like a headmistress or perhaps a monk, she had short frizzing gray hair and a square face and wore a loose-fitting gunmetal-gray sack dress.

  She’d told Reed she’d worked for the same family for fifteen years and was looking for another good fit. The spanking question had given the woman pause. Ruby imagined Reed must have been smiling benignly at her from across the kitchen table, because the grandmother of two confided that “her mama had done a little spanking in her day.”

  “Obviously she raised you to be a woman of strong character,” Reed said.

  “Why, thank you. It’s so nice to discover somebody your age on the same page in that department. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, believe you me. It’s like I tell my daughter. Sometimes a little swat placed just so really gets their attention, doesn’t it?”

  Ruby could hardly believe her ears. Who knew collywobbles of the mouth was viral?

  Reed was good, she thought. Sneaky good. If she hadn’t been holding the baby, she would have taken notes. Wondering if he’d learned those tactics in Basic Interviewing 101 or if he’d developed the skills on his own, she made a mental note to remember them tomorrow when she met with one of the applicants for the bartending position at Bell’s.

  It wasn’t long before Joey was humming in his sleep and Reed was seeing the second woman to the door. Joey remained nannyless. No surprises there.

  * * *

  Reed stared out the window over the sink as the abrasive old bat flounced out the door. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes. Joey’s last crying jag had left his right ear ringing and that second interview had left a bad taste in his mouth.

  Both women had been highly recommended by the agency, and he’d had high hopes that one of them would live up to her reputation. He could have overlooked the older one’s chin hairs and even the grating sound of her voice, but her philosophy on discipline was not acceptable to him and it wouldn’t be to Marsh, either.

  The first interview had gone better. He’d been willing to give her a chance despite her tardiness. A flat tire was a plausible, understandable excuse. The fact that she’d handled it and hadn’t canceled the interview was even commendable. He could have excused her drama-queen prattle, too. If only she hadn’t failed the most important criterion of all. She hadn’t asked to meet Joey.

  He couldn’t allow someone so disinterested to care for his—for Joey. He wouldn’t.

  The pad of footsteps sounded behind him. “Are Mary Poppins and Nanny McPhee both gone?” Ruby asked.

  He let out a breath and turned around.

  Ruby had arrived an hour ago in the nick of time in faded jeans, a Red Wings T-shirt and tennis shoes. Her curly hair was even more mussed now, her head tipped a bit to the left. Joey was sound asleep at her shoulder, his favorite position in the world.

  Missing a sock again, the baby didn’t look as if he had a care in the world. Now, why on earth did Reed suddenly feel as if an invisible fist had him by the vocal cords? He cleared his throat, swallowed. “You really do know a thing or two about babies,” he finally said.

  “Told you.”

  She did this little thing with her nose, wrinkling it slightly in a show of pained tolerance. It shouldn’t have sent an electrical current through him.

  He was becoming accustomed to Ruby’s Florence Nightingale generosity, her uncommon kindness and good nature. She probably offered the same open helpfulness to all her friends.

  Friends.

  Cliché or not, friendship really was the means and the solution here. Win-win. His own words replayed through his mind. Skip the frenzy, skip the marathon and go directly to the finish line. Running metaphors, he thought. Not his most profound work, but it was the best he’d been able to come up with on the fly.

  Crossing the room in four long strides, he said, “Here, I’ll take him before your arm goes completely numb. It’s amazing how heavy he can get when he’s asleep.”

  Transferring a sleeping baby was never smooth. In this instance, it resulted in a yelp from Ruby. “Wait,” she said. “He’s tangled in my hair.”

  They stopped halfway through the switch, four hands holding one small baby. Joey’s head was turned in his sleep, his arm extended, his fingers squeezed tight around a thick lock of curly hair.

  “Sure,” she said quietly, “now he’s out like a light. Do you think you could get him to loosen the stranglehold he has on my hair or should we just yank that section out?”

  Reed found himself smiling. Carefully shifting Joey back to her, he went to work unt
angling chestnut strands of spun silk from one unbelievably small and strong fist.

  He and Ruby stood close together, her slender hand resting along Joey’s back, her head tipped slightly in order to give Reed better access to the hair spilling over her shoulder. It was almost a relief when she started talking.

  “My brother’s little girl used to get her hands tangled up in her own hair. The more upset she got, the more she pulled, and the harder she pulled, the more she cried,” she said.

  “You have brothers, too?” He worked as quickly as possible, focused on the task.

  “Just one. Rusty, well, his name is Connor but everyone calls him Rusty. He’s my twin brother, actually. We’re not identical.”

  He laughed because obviously a brother and sister could not be identical. “One unidentical twin brother and one niece? How old is she?”

  “Kamryn is five. For an entire year we all believed she was Rusty’s baby. No one knew the truth except his fiancée, who turned out to be a slut in disguise. His ex-fiancée now. I’m not sure if she’s still a slut, but she probably is. We all really miss her. Kamryn, not the heartless ex.”

  Reed’s fingers stilled for a moment, his gaze going to hers. She looked back at him, her eyes wide and green and guileless as she said, “Collywobbles of the mouth is contagious. I knew it.”

  He laughed. And he swore the house sighed. Perhaps that was his vocal cords unfurling. Ruby’s affability, her easygoing outgoing loquaciousness was almost contagious, too.

  Almost.

  “It’s nice that you don’t hold grudges,” he said.

  “That’s what I always say.”

  “So no husband or kids of your own yet?” he asked.

  She tapped her foot. “No kids, no husband, not even an ex-husband. I know, right? I’ll be thirty in a little over a year. I was almost engaged once, but alas, we were too young. I told him we needed to finish high school, or at the very least the ninth grade. Now he’s a priest. Tell me he didn’t take the breakup hard. I mean, seriously, a commitment to a lifetime of celibacy speaks for itself, don’t you think?”

  Reed didn’t know when he’d met a woman with a drier sense of humor, but decided it might be best to bypass any discussions about celibacy for the time being. “There, you’re untangled.” He took Joey back into his arms, tucked Joey’s arm to his side and smoothed the hair he’d just freed off Ruby’s shoulder away from the sleeping child.

  His fingers stilled. He hadn’t meant the contact to be anything more than...anything, really. And yet it felt like...something. She must have felt it, too, for her eyes darted to his and just as quickly away.

  They both recovered with about as much subtlety as the refrigerator clanking on. Taking a giant step backward, she gingerly rubbed her scalp and said, “I told Marty, Father Marty now, that if he happens to reconsider the whole priesthood thingy before I leave my childbearing years completely behind, we can still have our little Madison and Montana. Probably not the best thing to tell a man at his ordainment.”

  Reed laughed again. The momentary awkwardness between them gone, he said, “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “That’s what all my friends say.” He noticed she was smiling, too.

  Her phone made the same sound his made when a text was coming in. She disappeared into the next room for a moment and came back with her phone and her keys.

  “Did you think of anything yet?” he asked, his arms tightening around Joey.

  Absently checking her message, she said, “Have I thought of anything about what?”

  “Have you thought of anything I can do to help you for a change?”

  “Oh, that. Not yet,” she answered on her way to the door. “I need to get back to Bell’s. Work on the renovations has begun. If you’re in the neighborhood in the next couple of days, stop by.”

  “I’ll do that,” he said. He walked her to the door, held it with his free hand. “Thanks again, Ruby.”

  She did that thing with her nose once more. “That’s what friends are for, pal.”

  He watched her go, and saw her dash off a text on her way to her car. The last thing he heard through the screen before she got in her vehicle was her rich, luscious, sultry laugh.

  * * *

  Ruby reread Amanda’s latest text while she put her seat belt on. Ran into Jason. Asked about you. Bet he’d be your date for the reunion. C U @ said event.

  Jason Horning had had a crush on Ruby since kindergarten. She’d been a head taller than him then, too.

  I’d rather go with Father Marty, she typed back.

  Not acceptable. I’ll think of something. C U @ the reunion.

  Can’t talk, Ruby typed. Trapped under something heavy.

  She’d barely started her car before the next text arrived. a. Person b. Place c. Animal or d. Thing? If it’s a. spare no details. C U @ the reunion.

  Ruby shook her head and backed around Reed’s Mustang. Her best friend in Gale had a one-track mind. It was only one of the reasons they got along so well.

  Friends, she thought, adjusting her rearview mirror—now, why on earth did she turn it so she could see her own eyes?

  She’d called Reed pal.

  Pal. Buddy. Comrade. Chum. Amigo. Bro. All were synonyms for friend, which was what he was, what she was, what they were. Friends.

  She checked for traffic and pulled onto the paved road. Friendship was...peaceful. It may not have been as invigorating as the frenzy, but it was nice, pleasant, enjoyable, even. Safe. Being friends beat resisting, hands down.

  She neared the four-way stop on the corner of Old Orchard Highway and Orchard Road, both named by early Dutch settlers who reputedly squandered nothing, not when naming roads and city streets or even their children, for that matter, who quietly and unobtrusively went their entire lives without middle names. An old woman eating by herself at the Hill had shared that particular gem of folklore only yesterday. Ruby enjoyed hearing about legendary people and myths and memories. She always had. She had one of those faces people talked to, she thought as she coasted to a halt at the corner. It was a good barkeeper’s face.

  A friendly face. Waiting her turn, she glanced in the mirror—nobody was behind her—and met her own gaze once again. Choosing the friendship route with Reed was turning out to be exactly what they both seemed to need. A few minutes ago she’d been standing statue-still a foot away from him, his breath warm on her cheek and his fingers gentle in her hair. Her toe had been on its best behavior.

  Friendship definitely cured the zing. Her hand went to the tendrils he’d touched. Well, for the most part, anyway.

  * * *

  Two days later, Ruby stood in the middle of her tavern and viewed the renovation’s progress, although lack of progress would be a more fitting description. Work had come to a screeching halt yesterday—some problem with the authenticity of a temporary permit, which had turned out to be a perfectly legitimate piece of paper. By the time she’d gotten that verified in writing from the correct city servant twenty-six hours later, the drywall hangers had started their next remodel and wouldn’t be able to squeeze Bell’s back into their schedule until Friday, at the earliest.

  Ruby had many fine qualities. This she knew for a fact. She was kind, helpful, nonjudgmental, socially tolerant, accepting and generally quite friendly, not to mention a lot of fun.

  Patient, she wasn’t.

  She stomped around the cavernous room where the jukebox and tables and chairs had been. The billiards tables were covered with tarps, as were the old, ornately carved bar and all seven attached stools, which was good. Once the renovations were completed and the protective plastic was removed, a little tung oil and elbow grease would bring out the bar’s best features, mars, scratches, scars and all. The plumber had finished his work in both restrooms. Again, that was a good thing. The
mountain of broken pieces of the yellowed, disgusting drop ceiling had been shoveled into buckets and carried out to a rented Dumpster. The positives were adding up.

  Friday at the earliest? Were they kidding?

  All right, she told herself, her hands in her back pockets, the curls around her face springing free of the knot high on the back of her head. This wasn’t the end of the world. As long as the drywall crew returned when they said they would, Bell’s would still be ready to open on time. It wasn’t best-case scenario, but it was doable, and doable was fine.

  Fine wasn’t elation, but, she decided as she turned out the lights and locked the door, there was nothing she could do about it. Friday at the earliest.

  Oh, brother.

  * * *

  Wandering around her new apartment hours later, she was still clenching. She’d gone over the beer, wine and liquor order with a fine-tooth comb and would place it first thing in the morning. She’d come across an advertisement online for a restaurant liquidation sale, and chose her top-ten favorite one-of-a-kind drink titles. She even began designing the simple menu. She’d invited Abby and Chelsea to see a movie playing at the newly reopened theater downtown. But Chelsea was in Grand Rapids at a bridal show and Abby was meeting somebody she met online. Ruby hadn’t felt like going alone.

  Her mother had called, and her brother and Amanda, too. Even though she didn’t ask for their opinions, her mom said she was PMSing and Amanda said “this too shall pass” and her brother suggested she should either get drunk or laid or both.

  She should have known better than to complain. Hormones, idioms, booze and sex. They’d certainly covered everything. Unfortunately, it didn’t make her feel any less like chewing glass.

  Finally, she’d taken a shower and changed into yoga pants and a tank top she’d washed so many times it was as soft as a second skin. Feeling refreshed and comfortable, if not happy-snappy, she thought about grabbing a bite to eat and considered going to bed without it. She looked at her phone. Gosh, it was only nine o’clock. Seriously?