by Heidi Rice
Nope, Becca was definitely going to have to die.
The freckles on Ruby’s cheeks were raw, her eyes dazed with sadness.
‘Hey, what’s up, are you okay?’ he said, even though the question seemed kind of redundant, because she was clearly not okay.
Despite all the damning evidence to the contrary, she bobbed her head, still clinging to the handset. ‘I’m … yes … I’m talking to Helena.’ A wobbly smile lifted her lips that only made him madder. ‘I mean, I’m talking to your mother about Matty.’
It was all the evidence he needed. Resting his hand on her shoulder, in a vain attempt to relieve her trembling, he lifted the phone out of her fingers. ‘Can I speak to her?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Ruby handed over the phone, the flash of colour backlighting the moisture on her cheeks.
Becca wasn’t the only one who was going to die now.
‘Mom?’ he barked into the mouthpiece.
‘Luke, my darling, it’s so wonderful to hear your—’
The fury surged. ‘I’ll call you back,’ he interrupted the effusive greeting. Did she really think he was going to let her get away with this? ‘But don’t you dare call this number again or there will be consequences. Do you understand?’
‘Luke? What are you—’
He dropped the phone and clicked off the handset. Then clicked it on again to block any return calls. He knew his mom: consequences – especially unspecified ones not written in blood – weren’t an effective deterrent. And getting a busy signal when she was intent on contacting someone was the one thing guaranteed to drive her nuts.
Deal with it, Mom. While I deal with the fallout from your latest emo-bomb.
He dumped the handset on the bar.
‘Luke!’ Ruby’s waterlogged eyes had gone wide with shock. ‘Why did you speak to your mother like that?’
‘Don’t worry, it’s how we roll,’ he said, cutting off that line of conversation, because the last thing he wanted to do was discuss his dysfunctional relationship with his mom, or give the woman who had put that sad look in Ruby’s eyes a single extra ounce of attention.
Ruby wasn’t a crier – she was tough and tenacious and brave. She didn’t do fake emotions. But his mother made a living out of them. And Ruby was a babe in the woods when it came to dealing with his mother’s particular brand of emotional manipulation.
Keeping his hand on her shoulder, he leaned past her to grab a couple of paper napkins out of the dispenser on top of the bar. He dabbed her cheeks. ‘Now, tell me the truth – are you okay?’
A new wave of tears flooded over her lids and she gave a little hiccup. Then she shook her head.
‘I guess not. I’m sorry, it’s silly, really,’ she said, taking the wad of napkins from him and scrubbing her own cheeks. ‘I didn’t mean to make such a scene,’ she added, tangling the damp tissue in her fingers. ‘It’s just so hard sometimes. I miss him so much. But it was nice to talk about Matty with your Mum, really it was. I think she’s the only person who misses him as much as I do.’
‘Uh-huh.’ He nodded back, struggling to sound sympathetic while the fury choked him.
So his mom had called the theatre to share reminiscences with Ruby about a guy she hadn’t contacted in thirty-one years? Like hell. He had no idea what his mom’s true motives were, but he wasn’t buying the let’s-share-our-pain one for a second. He’d have to deal with that melodrama another time though, because first he had to take the devastation out of Ruby’s eyes.
‘Could you use a hug?’
The flash of shock at his offer made him feel like an asshole.
It was true, he wasn’t a natural-born hugger, but he did make important exceptions. Like when Becca’s hamster had been eaten by the ginger tom his mom was starring opposite during the shoot of a low-budget kids comedy in Spain, or when his brother Jack’s dad Bill – who they had all adored – had died tragically during a storm at sea off the coast of Maine ten years back, or when his mom had won her second Tony a year ago. Although he really wished he hadn’t made an exception on that occasion when the stolen shot of the two of them backstage had been juxtaposed with clinch shots of his mom and Falcone in their only movie together and gone viral as a creepy, vaguely incestuous meme with the tagline ‘Helena Devlin: Being only as old as the man you feel’.
His mom, of course, had adored that meme. ‘I do love to be current.’
‘You don’t mind?’ Ruby said, clearly concerned she would be taking advantage of him again.
And he wanted to kick his own ass for making her scared to touch him that morning.
‘Nope,’ he said, spreading his arms wide and tugging her into his body.
She stepped into his embrace, tucked her head under his chin and ran her own arms around his waist to hug him back. Her fingers trembled as she clung to him. The silent shudders while the last of the storm battered her, had his heart rising into his throat. He rubbed her back and racked his brain for something to say, that might alleviate at least a little of her grief.
But really what was there to say? Her loss was huge. She hadn’t just lost her best friend, she was about to lose her job and her home. Not for the first time, the thought of loaning her the money she would need for the debt skimmed through his consciousness. But he forced himself to let it pass by and land back in the box marked Bad Ideas.
He was entangled enough in this situation already. And loaning her the money might solve the immediate problem, but it would only create more problems down the line. He was going to be gone in four weeks at the most – after checking the repairs that needed doing, he’d decided to extend his stay through the end of May – but come June 20th, Ruby was still going to have a stark choice.
He couldn’t replace his uncle as her guardian angel, he just wasn’t cut out for the job.
The shuddering finally stopped as the storm passed. Ruby’s deep sigh against Luke’s neck sent a cloud of her scent – floral sin and rose shampoo – into his nostrils. His hands tightened on her lush curves, before he forced himself to let her go and step back.
She looked at him through tear-gilded lashes. ‘Thank you, I think I needed that,’ she said, the embarrassed heat in her face, and the honesty and integrity in her gaze only making her more luminous.
‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘You want to take a break for the rest of the day?’ he asked. ‘I’m sure me and the rest of the crew can handle the clear up.’
‘No, I’m good. Really, I am,’ she said, sounding much more sure now. She glanced around the auditorium. ‘And I love seeing this place get the care it deserves.’
He dismissed the guilty pang that wrapped around his ribs.
‘Why don’t we start watching Brokeback Mountain?’ Gerry said, holding up a reel of film. ‘Errol can thread it up in no time. Do you want to join us, Luke?’
Luke frowned. Was the guy serious? Wasn’t that movie a tragedy? Didn’t the cowboys die at the end?
But before he could say anything, Ruby had pasted a brave smile on her face. ‘You know, Gerry, I think that would be an excellent idea. Matty adored that movie, even though he said it was a gay movie for straight people, it always made him cry. And I’d love to have a chance to clean out my sinuses over a sad movie for a change.’
As Jacie stepped up to give her a hard hug, Luke stepped away.
‘Luke, if you want to stay, we’d love to have you,’ Ruby said.
‘Sure,’ he said.
She was being kind to Gerry by humouring his asinine suggestion. She couldn’t really want to watch a movie about lovelorn cowboys while she was feeling like shit. So he’d stay and watch it with her. Make sure she didn’t get too shaky again.
It was the least he could do – after his mom had played fast and loose with her grief. And later today, after he’d let his mom stew in her own juices for a while, he was going to call her back, and give her hell for screwing with Ruby’s karma. And his own.
***
‘Mom, seriously, what the h
ell were you thinking?’ Luke kept his voice low and even.
He had finally relented and called his mother’s cell from the phone in his house in Chepstow Villas after he’d order in some take out and eaten it. It was close to eight p.m. UK time so he’d left her stewing for over six hours, it still didn’t feel long enough.
‘Darling, I don’t know what you mean.’ Yeah, right.
‘Ruby Graham is grieving, she scattered her best friend’s ashes barely two months ago,’ Luke added, his voice rising as the memory of Ruby’s tear-streaked cheeks blasted back into his memory and made him mad all over again. ‘Her emotions are shaky at best, she does not need you calling her out of the blue, playing the heartbroken sister and driving her emotions off a cliff.’
He’d been forced to sit through one of the most tragic films ever made to keep an eye on Ruby that afternoon. To her credit, she’d been a rock during the three-plus-hour endurance test as they watched Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger act their asses off. But he’d been watching her like a hawk before he’d headed out, for any signs of a wobble, and he’d seen her chin tremble more than enough times to know Ruby’s tough-it-out routine had been an act.
Ruby was still shaky, still devastated, still way too close to the cliff-edge for his liking. And he planned to get it through his mom’s skull that she was not to contact Ruby and freak her out again.
‘But I am the heartbroken sister,’ his mother replied. ‘And all I did was talk to her about Matty. It was good for us both. You may find it easy to close off your emotions, but not everyone else can do that,’ she finished, sounding hurt.
Yeah, he wasn’t buying that either.
As usual his mother was avoiding the actual problem to take a detour into yet another conversation about his ‘withholding issues.’
‘And how was it good for you, Mom?’ he asked, changing the subject right back again. He was pretty good at playing the deflect-and-rule game, after all, he’d learned how from a master. ‘You actually want me to buy you gave a crap about Matthew Devlin when you had refused to speak to him for over thirty years?’
‘I didn’t refuse to speak to him, he refused to speak to me,’ she said, still sounding hurt. ‘For a very good reason. I did something unforgiveable.’
So what else is new, Mom?
‘Whatever,’ he said, already bored. The details of his mom’s feud with his uncle had jack shit to do with him. And while it was super rare for his mother to admit culpability for anything, he still wasn’t buying the contrite routine. ‘Just don’t call her again.’
‘But I wanted to visit The Royale when I’m in town,’ she said. ‘I’d love to meet Ruby. She sounds adorable. And I wanted to talk to you both about—’
‘Wait up. Wait a damn minute,’ Luke cut in as every one of his freak-out vibes freaked out. ‘Did you just say you’re coming to London?’
Hell, no. This could not be happening. He thrust his fingers through his hair, the mild headache caused by the emo-fest this afternoon morphing into an all-out migraine.
‘I’m going to be in London next week,’ she said. ‘I’m doing my one-woman show at the National in June for a limited run. They had an unexpected gap in their schedule. I found out about it, made the suggestion to my agent, he talked to Gypsy’s Broadway producer, and the general manager at the National. It just seemed so fortuitous. I’m celebrating thirty-five years in the business this year and I wanted to come back to my home town during our break on Broadway. Especially when I discovered my first-born was in town, too. We start rehearsals in a couple of weeks.’
No. No. No.
Luke could feel his break – which had already gotten more confusing than he would have liked – turning into the massive fuck-mageddon he’d been trying to avoid.
‘You’re not visiting The Royale, or meeting Ruby.’
‘But I wanted to talk to you both about …’ she began again.
‘You’re not listening to me, mom, I’m not kidding, if you show up at the movie theatre, I will cut you out of my life for good.’ It was extreme, but then extreme was the only language his mom understood.
His palms were starting to sweat, his heart punching his rib cage. He wasn’t even sure why he was so dead set against Ruby and his mom getting together. He just knew it would not be good. For all of her self-absorption, his mom could be pretty damn intuitive, and he didn’t want her intuiting anything about his friendship with Ruby.
‘Luke, you don’t sound well, are the anxiety attacks back?’
‘Not yet,’ he growled. But they soon would be if she didn’t listen to him. He didn’t want her here. He could feel the box he’d spent his childhood trying to escape folding in around him.
Holding his hand over the mouthpiece he forced himself to breathe. And count. The way the CBT therapist had trained him to do as a fourteen-year-old when these dumb attacks had started.
In. One, two, three. Out. One, two, three.
‘If you really don’t want me coming to The Royale, I won’t come,’ she said.
‘Good.’ In. One, two, three. ‘Don’t.’ Out. One, two, three …
‘But I wanted to tell you about something. You and Ruby. It’s about Matty. And me. And your father.’
In. One, two, three. ‘You’re not meeting Ruby.’ She doesn’t need this shit any more than I do. Out. One, two, three …
Whatever nonsense his mother had to impart, he was not dragging Ruby into the drama. She had enough drama in her life already.
‘Okay, just you then. I suppose you can tell Ruby. Perhaps you could come to my hotel for lunch next Friday …’ She paused then added. ‘Assuming you’re sure you don’t want me to pop into The Royale, instead?’
The counted breathing had slowed his pulse down to frigid. ‘That’s blackmail, Mom.’
‘I know, dear,’ his mother said without an ounce of remorse. ‘But how else am I supposed to get you to come see me?’
Chapter 10
The following Friday at noon, Luke walked into the lobby of the Mayfair Grand, London’s most prestigious and exclusive six-star hotel. The old-world elegance of marble, mahogany, gilt-edged mirrors and expensive flower arrangements were a reminder of the thousand and one similar high-end hotels all over the globe he’d stayed in as a kid when his mom’s career had hit the heights. The latent anxiety of running herd on his daredevil brother and kid sister – and attempting to stop them wrecking the joint – while his mom was either ‘resting’ or ‘doing lines’ added to the low level hum of anxiety which had been sitting in his stomach since the week before.
He didn’t have time for this. He needed to get back to The Royale. He had some more detail work he wanted to finish on the moulding before the matinee kicked off at four.
His mom was getting exactly thirty minutes for her heart-to-heart.
He approached the concierge desk and tugged the ball cap he was wearing lower. ‘Hi, I’m here to see Helena Devlin in The Queen’s Suite.’ How appropriate. ‘Could you tell me how to get there?’
‘Of course. Who shall I say is calling?’ The distinguished older man asked picking up the house phone.
‘She’s expecting me, could you just give me the directions.’ He wasn’t giving a name. It was bad enough his mom was making him show his face in the West End at a hotel renowned for its VIP and celebrity clientele. As it was he’d turned up a half hour ahead of schedule in case she’d arranged a reception committee.
‘Certainly, sir, once I’ve informed Ms Devlin of your visit. I’m afraid it’s hotel policy,’ the man replied, his eyes widening a fraction as Luke met his gaze. Apparently, there was no need to give the guy his name, but the man was obviously well trained enough not to comment.
After dialling his mother’s suite, and informing her ‘her guest’ had arrived, the concierge covered the receiver. ‘Ms Devlin has suggested you meet her in The Salon Grill for lunch.’
‘Tell Ms Devlin, I’ll meet her in her suite or not at all.’
If you think you’
re getting another viral meme from this visit, Mom, you’re on crack.
The concierge conferred with his mother, and then gave him directions to the suite. Finally.
When he knocked on the door five minutes later, his palms were damp. He rubbed them on his jeans.
His mom opened the door with a flourish. Dressed in one of her multi-coloured silk lounging kaftans, her feet bare, her toenails painted mailbox-red, her defiantly raven hair wrapped in a matching silk bandana and her still virtually unlined skin devoid of make-up she looked as if she were about to open a production of Woodstock the Musical.
‘Luke, my darling boy,’ she said, throwing her arms around him in an extravagant hug and surrounding him in a cloud of patchouli perfume as she air-kissed him on both cheeks. ‘What a wonderful surprise, you’re early!’
‘Yeah, surprise,’ he said, playing along half-heartedly, as he gave her a brief hug, kissed her cheek and stepped into the room to slam the door behind him. ‘What did you need to talk to me about, I haven’t got long.’
‘Luke, will you stop it with the grumpy attitude.’ His mother chastised him. ‘I haven’t seen you in months. Come in and sit down – I thought I could order us up some lunch.’ She sent him a blinding smile over her shoulder as she wafted into the Suite’s elaborate lounge area which had an impressive view over Green Park.
Luke wasn’t impressed.
‘And you can tell me all about Ruby,’ his mother added. ‘I love her already and I haven’t even met her.’
Ah-ha, so that’s what this is, the perennial probe into my love life.
‘No lunch, I haven’t got time. But I’ll take coffee, if you’ve got it.’ He felt himself relax a little as he sat down on one of the suite’s matching leather sofas. His mother’s intrusion into his private life was nothing new. ‘And, FYI, Ruby and I are not dating,’ he added, getting straight to the point. Telling her the subject of Ruby was off-limits would only encourage her curiosity; better to simply nip that line of enquiry in the bud.
‘Which is precisely what makes her so intriguing,’ his mom replied, not having her bud nipped in the least. ‘She sounded so sweet and adorable on the phone,’ she added as she fired up a state-of-the-art coffee machine on the sideboard.