“This place is fantastic, even better than the photos,” Ruby called out as she glanced around the great room and the open kitchen and dining room.
The log home sat on twenty-five acres on the edge of town and only a half mile or so from Bluestone River’s landmark covered bridge. Emma’s late husband had designed this grand house with its stone fireplace and large windows, but Neil died not long after he and Emma had moved in. Everything inside, from the simple lines of the modern teak dining-room table and chairs, to the vintage needlepoint pillows on the couch, reflected Emma’s flair for blending old and new and making it all look chic. And uniquely Emma. Ruby saw no sign that Neil had ever lived there. Not surprising.
Thinking about Neil always brought on a bout of sadness. She knew way too much about Neil and Emma’s unhappy years spent trying to make their marriage at least tolerable. They’d not let their private troubles seep out into the world, though. According to Emma, most people in town assumed she and Neil were happy high-school sweethearts, a lucky pair building their dream home. But Ruby was no outsider, so she knew the truth. Ruby pushed away those dark thoughts. None of it mattered now, anyway.
The air was filled with the aromas of chocolate and ginger, and a sweet yeasty scent, like baking bread. “Em, please, don’t tell me you’ve been baking.”
Emma flashed a pointed look. “Seriously? I can’t stand long enough to bake. That’s why I hired Brenda. She lost her job and needs a little income, so she does light cleaning and shopping, mostly for older people.” She smirked. “And people like me. She made a bakery run earlier. I don’t want us to run short on goodies.”
Emma stood at the counter, her walker set aside for the moment. She pointed to sliding doors that opened to the deck. “That’s the magic spot. The place I take most of the tons of pictures that turn up on your phone.”
“Almost daily,” Ruby said with a snicker. In the last couple of years, Emma’s emails and texts included shots of the deer regularly roaming the land, probably coming up from the direction of the river. Flocks of geese from the bird sanctuary visited the sloping field behind the house. About half of Emma’s acres were wooded. The rest was a field of prairie grasses and wildflowers whose shades of purples and reds and yellows were fading now.
“It’s an incredible place, Em. I see why you love it so.” Luckily, it was plenty big enough to offer a separate space for her and Peach. She looked down at the dog, who’d stretched out in front of the patio doors. “See? I told you the dog was quiet. She’s being a little shy now.”
Nodding to acknowledge Peach, Emma said, “Let me take you to your room before we have coffee. And yes, there’s lots of space for your cute retriever.” She shot Ruby a pointed look. “Okay, I admit, she’s a gorgeous dog. But I’m still surprised. Even as a kid you showed no interest in four-legged anything. No dogs or cats or gerbils. And you weren’t one of the horse girls.”
Ruby shrugged. What started as Ruby keeping the dog for a couple of days as a favor turned into taking in Peach for good. Even her mother and Dee thought it was another sign of Ruby never letting a crisis, hers or someone else’s, go unmarked. Naturally, Dee had quipped, Ruby would end up with a dog whose eighty-something-year-old owner died suddenly.
With Emma going down the short hallway at a snail’s pace, Ruby stayed well behind and timed her steps to the clunking of the walker hitting the hardwood floor. Once inside the room, though, Emma sat on a bench at an antique dressing table with a beveled oval mirror and inlaid designs in the wood.
Ruby took in the cheerful pale sage-and-white bedroom, larger than it looked in photos and even more inviting. The closet doors alone took up half of one wall. The small writing desk and reading chair were positioned next to another set of patio doors looking out on the field of flowers. Touched by the obvious attempt to make her comfortable, Ruby remarked, “You said this was really a suite that has everything. And it’s true. The closet has more room than I could possibly need for what few things I brought.”
Emma frowned. “On the phone the other day you said everything you own fit into your car. Is that really true?”
“Almost. That’s how I wanted it and I managed to make it work.” Leaving Florida had been the easy part of all that had happened. Determined to take only what she could jam into the trunk, Ruby had packed up her apartment right down to the coffeepot and dish towels. Volunteers from the women’s shelter arrived one morning with a truck and hauled away her things—sofa, bed, sheets, even the vacuum cleaner. Watching the practical items of her life disappear, Ruby almost convinced herself it was all for the best. She needed a change, anyway. Right?
She took a couple of steps to stand behind Emma and fluffed up the deep brown hair framing her face. “I love your short cut. And your hair is so shiny, like it always was. All you have to do is run your fingers through it and you’re done.” She smiled at Emma in the mirror. “But you could shave half of your head and you’d still be beautiful.”
Emma responded with an “oh, please” groan.
“Playing around with your hair brings back lots of memories. Remember how we used to put it all in giant rollers in useless attempts to make it curly?” Ruby laughed. “Now you’re lucky it’s straight and nice and thick.”
Emma responded with a quick nod. “Not having my hair hanging down my back took some getting used to, but don’t become too attached to this pixie look.” She stood and gripped her walker. “As soon as I’m mobile and active, like I used to be, I’m growing it back.”
Ruby drew her head back at the rise in Em’s voice as she spoke each word. “Yes, ma’am. You can do as you please.”
“I didn’t mean to sound harsh.” Emma let out a soft chuckle. “My mind wasn’t really on my hair. I was recalling Neil demanding to know why I insisted we put up the drywall and finish this room right away. And why such a pale sage? I told him it was the color of your bedroom growing up, and you’d chosen it yourself. It was like I knew one day you’d be back.” She paused. “Maybe even for good.”
Ruby’s throat closed. Not that it mattered, since she had no sarcastic comeback to Emma’s remark. She’d committed to staying for whatever amount of time Emma needed her. In some ways, it was a two-way street. As long as she and Peach stayed in this peaceful room in Emma’s house, Ruby could cut her expenses and make her savings last until she figured out where to go and what to do next. But long-term? Ruby couldn’t conjure up any circumstance that would keep her in Bluestone River.
“Rubes? Don’t go all silent on me. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Emma said in a low voice. “I was just talking off the top of my head. Like wishful thinking.”
“It’s okay.” Ruby gave her friend’s shoulder a friendly pat. “Maybe if I could stay in this room and never leave, it would be okay. But even if I found a job in the schools or with a crisis line, which is unlikely, I can’t get past the minefield of memories.” Ruby stared at the floor. “Sometimes, the sweetest of them are as unbearable as the worst.”
“I know, I know. You’ve said as much for twenty years now.”
Emma turned her walker to face the doorway. “But Ruby, not everyone in town remembers or, to be blunt, cares what happened to your family. Meanwhile, you’ve let a twenty-year-old tragedy rule your life.”
“Well, so sorry,” Ruby snapped, keeping her distance behind Emma, who’d started down the hall. “No lectures, please.”
“Up ’til now, I’ve always happily visited you wherever you happened to be,” Emma said, not breaking her pace until she reached the table and eased into a chair. “I accepted your refusal to visit me here. To be more precise, I preferred it. You know that. Taking off to see you was a good excuse to get away from Neil and our problems.”
“You and I had some great trips over the years,” Ruby said, hoping to steer the subject away from her family history.
“Didn’t we ever,” Emma said with exaggerated nostal
gia. “Now that you’re back in town, though, I think you’ll finally get it, Ruby. Your memories are like ghosts that follow you around. You can’t run fast enough to get ahead of them.”
Ruby held her tongue and tried to cool the heat rising within her. The last thing she wanted was to lash out at Emma, but earlier, when she’d driven past the Welcome to Bluestone River sign on the way into town, every muscle had gone rigid. She’d gripped the wheel and forced herself to keep her foot on the accelerator and not the brake. She didn’t need Emma challenging her now. She leaned over and calmed herself by burying her hand in Peach’s fur and patting her back.
“Let’s not talk about this now, Em. Not any of it.” Unable to resist, she added, “I promise we can examine all my questionable choices another time.”
Emma nodded. “Okay, but consider this—nothing is as you left it. Sadly, this town not only isn’t growing, it’s shrinking. Our population is barely seven thousand. It was nearly ten thousand when we were kids.” Emma grimaced. “When we go down to River Street, you’ll see all the boarded-up businesses. And since Mike’s dad gave up the resort buildings and land at Hidden Lake, we attract fewer and fewer tourists.”
The immediate jolt in Ruby’s body threw her off balance. All it had taken was the out-of-the-blue mention of Mike. She managed a response. “At least a bird sanctuary is an actual Abbot family legacy.” When she’d looked him up online a couple of years ago, Ruby learned Mike worked for a law firm in Cincinnati. Apparently, his dad had followed him there and had since died. That was the extent of her knowledge of what had happened to Mike Abbot in the last two decades.
“Before long only a few people will even remember the town once had a resort on the lake,” Emma mused. “No member of the Abbot family has any ties to Bluestone River.”
Like me and my family. But she’d long wondered if Mike’s grown-up life had come close to matching their old high-school dreams. Hers sure hadn’t measured up, but maybe Mike had made better choices.
“At least you don’t have to worry about running into Mike,” Emma said. “Although wouldn’t it be good to finally...”
Ruby raised her hand. “Stop. I don’t want to talk about Mike. Let’s just stay out of the past, at least for now.” Ruby paused. “I just got here.”
Emma raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, if you say so.”
Yes, I say so. Ruby turned away and busied her hands pouring their coffee.
Copyright © 2019 by Virginia McCullough
ISBN-13: 9781488039843
Single Dad to the Rescue
Copyright © 2019 by Cari Lynn Webb
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