Glory helped lower Natalie into her wheelchair, her nostrils tweaked by the flowery scent of Natalie’s hair. Definitely special shampoo. The rest of them had to use toiletries from the dollar store.
“Do you want a heating pad?” Kimani asked as she propped Natalie’s shoes on the footrests. “It might help sciatic pain.”
“I guess we’ll start with that,” Natalie said, a sour pucker to her mouth as she was pushed up the ramp. “The paralysis is back!” she called to Leo, who stood waiting in the kitchen doorway. “I hope it’s just a virus.”
“I hope so. You need to get better, Sister.” Leo seemed so handsome and benevolent, standing there, greeting his sister. His beautiful façade. “Come on inside and we’ll help you feel better.”
Glory was relieved when Kimani wheeled Natalie to the master suite, allowing Glory to escape. As she climbed the stairs, favoring her sore knee, she allowed hope to bubble up inside her again. The possibility was thrilling. The girl who was linked to her past might also guarantee her future. Inside their room Luna looked up from the floor, where she sat cross-legged reading a slim volume of Dickens’s Christmas Carol. “Mama, have you read this? Scrooge is a mean old man.”
“It gets better.” Glory kissed her daughter’s forehead, pausing to smooth back feathery strands of auburn hair. “I have some very exciting news.”
Luna rose to her knees. “Is it about Hazel? Did you meet her mom? Is Leo going to allow me to go over there? He was extra mean today. He got in a fight with Sienna and—”
“Hold on. I want to tell you my news, because this is something wonderful you’ll never guess.” Glory flipped open her cell phone and went to the directory to show her Ruby’s number. “See this number? Her name is Ruby, and I saw her at the mall today.”
Luna’s eyes opened wide with expectation. “A new friend?”
“Not just a friend. She’s my daughter. You, my darling girl, have not one, but two secret sisters.”
CHAPTER 29
Thanksgiving with the McCullums was a crazy, loud mixture of too much food, too much pie, and a lot of hugging. The feast was always hosted by Janeece and Doc McCullum at their converted farmhouse out in Wilsonville, with a few acres of land, a spacious house, and double ovens for the cooks in the family. Ruby usually looked forward to the gathering, but this year she saw it as a chance to be herself again, a chance to repossess the Ruby who worried about SAT scores and an annoying little sister instead of the guilt-ridden girl who was torn between one mom battling cancer and chemo and another one desperately trying to find a bond that wasn’t there.
For a while her immersion worked. Gathered around the fire pit in her grandparents’ backyard, she sipped on a bottle of soda pop—the grapefruit kind, Squirt—while she chatted with the cool cousins, Casey and Alice and DeShaun and Nayasia and Shark, about TV shows and music and places to travel. Alice had started college in August, and Ruby listened as she talked about what she liked (a whole new friendship pool and being able to stay out all night) and what she hated (dining hall food and community bathrooms in the dorms). Older cousins such as Jade, Keandre, and Bozie moved through their group, some staying to talk and others heading out to the fields out back to toss a Frisbee or football in the fading light.
At one point, Ruby noticed Aurora watching from the back deck, wanting to join in but knowing she didn’t really belong with the high school and college kids. Ruby took a long drink of soda, considering the situation. Then, in a burst of generosity, she got up and went to her sister. “Come on over and hang with us,” she said, putting her arm around Aurora and guiding her over to the circle. “It’s warmer by the fire.”
At first Aurora was quiet and uncharacteristically low-key, but then Casey asked her where she got her jacket and she asked DeShaun if he was playing football this year, and just like that Aurora was hanging with the older cousins.
You’re welcome, Ruby thought, knowing her sister would never thank her. That was okay. They’d all been through a rough month with Mom’s cancer and surgery, and it wasn’t over yet. Everyone needed a little bit of lightness right now.
When they were called inside for dinner, Aunt Kaysandra clanged a spoon against a glass to quiet the group for a speech. For the toast, Aunt Bernadette and Grandma passed out champagne to adults and sparkling cider to the kids. Ever since Ruby could remember, her grandpa Doc, a retired physician, had always made the speech about the family tradition of kindness. Dad said that Doc hated public speaking, but that his father, Ernie, had always made a Thanksgiving speech and Doc needed to carry on that tradition. Although Ruby had never met Ernie McCullum, she had written a school paper about how her great-grandfather had served as a medic in World War II and gone to medical school when he returned home. He had learned how to blow the trumpet on an instrument given to him by one of his army buddies. Ernie sounded like a cool guy.
“We have so much to be thankful for.” Doc’s big bass voice filled the room, quieting the stragglers. “I’m grateful that we’re here together as a family to celebrate another Thanksgiving. We are fortunate to have each other, safe homes, and a country that affords us the right to stand up for what matters to us. In the tradition of the late Dr. Martin Luther King, our family seeks to share the abundance of this holiday by performing good deeds for people outside our circle. I like to think that these acts of kindness reflect who we are as a family. . . .”
Family . . . Ruby scanned the people in the room full of fidgeting kids and smiling adults and wondered why she had ever wanted to look for her birth mother when she had a big, noisy, loving family right here. She’d caved to selfish curiosity, and now she was sick with regret and disappointment. After years of imagining a soul mate of a mother, Ruby had learned that her birth mother was simply an ordinary woman, somewhat tortured and worn down by time, work, and poverty. She could not expect poetry or song from a tired, nervous, discontent woman.
One of the most embarrassing parts of the whole thing was that Ruby had brought this all upon herself by searching for Glory Noland. And as soon as she had opened that Pandora’s box, she could not stuff Glory back in and forget they ever met.
In the week since they’d first met, they had gotten together twice at the mall. The first time Glory had texted her to meet, Ruby’s heart had sung with joy at the invitation. As if her birth mother wanted her after all these years. As if there were a connection between them, two complete strangers.
Ruby had realized her mistake when she’d driven back to the mall in Northeast Portland on her own and Glory had hustled her into the mall’s game arcade, a dimly lit room strafed by the flashing lights and noise of pinball and video games.
“I’m sorry we have to meet here, but I can’t be seen talking with you by any of the sisters. We reach out to strangers when we have space in the house, sort of a recruitment thing, but otherwise we’re not supposed to be socializing.”
“You recruit people to join your group?”
The uneasiness that had seeped in at that point had not been assuaged when Glory assured Ruby that she wasn’t soliciting her to join. “I just want to get to know you again,” Glory had said, but Ruby had sensed that there was something more at play. It felt like Glory wanted something from her, but Ruby couldn’t figure out what.
“So it is a cult,” Maxi had said when Ruby recounted the meeting.
“She says no, that there’s no religious orientation. But to me it sounds like a tiny dictatorship ruled by the sister and brother team. She’s locked into a strict schedule of cleaning hotel rooms every day and being at the house every night. Her only break is in the afternoon at the mall, when they give her a little money for food and small stuff. Otherwise, her salary goes directly to the house. And she thinks they’re collecting food stamps in her name, too.”
“It sounds like the black sharecroppers in the South during the 1930s. The black farmers didn’t own their land, so they had to pay an unfair percentage of their profits to the landowners.” Maxine spoke quickly
, on one of her nerd rolls. “Or you could compare it to the collective farms in Russia or China, where people work all their lives on state-owned farms with no control over their profits and usually no salaries. It’s a form of communism.”
“That is so scary,” Delilah said. “Maybe she’s really trying to suck you into the vortex. I don’t think you should see her again.”
Ruby appreciated her friends’ concern, but now that she’d found Glory she didn’t think she could close the door. At least not yet.
Ruby was pulled back to the present when Grandpa Doc mentioned her mom in his thank-you speech. “And finally, we’re grateful for the well-being of our own Tamarind,” he said, nodding to the love seat where Mom sat with Nani Rima by her side. Tamarind’s parents usually did not join in on McCullum family events, but Rima had already been in town, caring for Mom, and this year Mom had wanted to hold the people she loved close for the holidays. “We are glad you’re with us, tonight, as well as the young lady at your side. We are grateful that you’ve brought us such good news, and we know you’re a fighter.” Grandpa Doc gave a thumbs-up. “And for all this we’re grateful.”
“Amen!” someone called out, prompting a chorus of “amens” and applause as people turned away and began to line up at the food buffet.
Ruby went over with Mom and Nani, who were talking with Dad, Dada Karim, Aunt Rosie, and Cousin Maisie, explaining Mom’s treatment. It had been one week since the surgery, and Mom was doing great, eating healthy and doing her arm exercises every day to avoid stiffness in her shoulders. She would start chemotherapy next week, but that was a precautionary measure, as the lymph nodes had shown no sign of cancer.
“An early Christmas gift,” Mom told Rosie, who leaned down to hug her.
The air seemed to shift, and Ruby realized someone was standing behind her.
“Have you planned an act of kindness, young lady?” Grandpa had crept up on her, no small feat for a man his size, a former high school linebacker. As a little kid Ruby had been afraid of him, but then she’d realized he was like a smart, friendly bear. “Who’s going to benefit from your good deed?”
“I know the person I’m going to help,” Ruby said, looking up at him with earnest eyes. “I’m just not exactly sure how to help her yet.”
“Hmm. Sounds complicated. And a simple act of kindness is supposed to be simple.”
She shrugged. “I’m doing my best. You know how sometimes a person needs help, but she doesn’t really know what she needs?”
He nodded. “All the time. You sound like a psychiatrist in the making. But don’t overinvest. You could help your sister with her homework or do some extra chores around the house.”
That would have worked for the old Ruby, but now she had graver responsibilities. “Sounds like a plan,” she said. As he patted her shoulder and walked away, she felt like a traitor to the family.
* * *
Heads bowed at the table as the sisters ate without comment. No one dared to say a thing about the meager Thanksgiving meal, with rubbery turkey and gummy stuffing that tasted of salt and musky sage. Everything is so gray, thought Glory. She missed the color of her mom’s table with shiny orange candied sweet potatoes, red cranberry sauce, bright green beans.
“Let’s go around the table,” Natalie said, sawing at a slice of turkey. “Everyone tell us what you’re grateful for. Share your blessings.”
“I’m grateful for my sisters, and for a chance to perform this evening,” Rachel said.
“And I’m thankful that we’ll be blessed with a concert tonight,” Laura said with a giddy smile.
“Grateful for food and . . . and clean clothes,” Georgina muttered without looking up from the table.
Soon it would be her turn, and she would have to say her usual line.
I’m grateful to have food to eat and a roof over my head. I’m grateful for all that you’ve given me.
This had been her mantra for a decade now, and though the words sounded right, the sentiment had worn thin. How can you be grateful to a master who owns your time, your body, your work, your future?
Your child?
But this year would be different, wouldn’t it? Now there was Ruby, her hope, her savior. Next year at this time, she and Luna wouldn’t be part of this going around the table spouting false praises.
It was her turn; all eyes were on her. “I’m grateful, so grateful, to be alive.”
Their silent stares pierced the air. Natalie scowled at the notion, and Leo shook his head in disgust. From the chair beside her, Luna glanced up in confusion.
“How very selfish of you,” Natalie said.
“I wasn’t finished.” Glory bit her lips to compose herself. Suddenly she had the urge to laugh, but she tamped it down. “I’m happy to be alive, so that I can appreciate your generosity, this wonderful meal, and this fine home.”
The room seemed to exhale as Natalie nodded. “You’re welcome. Next?”
* * *
“If you’re nearly finished, listen carefully.” Rima was amused by the eager faces of the teenage girls, teacups in hands, as they faced her at the kitchen counter. When they had learned that tea reading was a hobby of hers, they had lined up to have their fortunes told. “Drink most of the tea, but leave a little liquid in the cup, so that you don’t swallow the leaves, you know.”
“I’m done,” one of the girls said. She was a little pudgy, with skin the color of caramel and liquid amber eyes that would one day make a man feel that she adored him. Casey was her name.
“All right, Casey. Now you hold the teacup in your left hand and swirl it round and round, clockwise. Swirl it three times. You too,” Rima said, nodding at the other girl, a tall beauty who reminded Rima of her daughter, only Jade had very long hair that was bound into a hundred tiny braids.
“Now. Put the saucer on top of the cup and slowly pour the rest of the tea into this bowl. Use the saucer as a screen . . . that’s right.” As the girls followed her instructions, her granddaughter Ruby came over with a slice of pie and touched the china teapot.
“It’s still warm. Okay if I have some of your tea, Nani?”
“Of course. Do you want your tea leaves read, too?”
“No, thanks. I just want some tea with my pumpkin pie.”
“So pour yourself a cup,” Rima said. “But it’s no trouble to read one more.”
“I’m good,” Ruby said, placing a mug beside the teapot.
“I’ll just watch.”
In the times Rima had read for Ruby she had seen that the girl was insightful. One day, Rima would teach her granddaughter the symbols, as she already had the intuition. In truth, Rima would have liked a peek at Ruby’s cup. Something was going on with this girl, something more than the worry over Tamarind’s cancer. But Rima didn’t remark on it as Ruby joined them at the counter and listened in while Rima did readings for Ruby’s cousins.
The younger one, Casey, had a lot going on. “So many leaves you have, all in a jumble,” Rima said, showing her the cup. “This means you are busy. Lots of activities. A very full life.”
“I’m on the debate team, and in January I’m going to Eugene for the Model United Nations,” Casey said. “I want to go to be a lawyer, but I’m in theater, too. Do you see anything about law school in there?”
“Not law specifically, but this pyramid, do you see it? And pointing up. That’s a very positive sign. It means you will have solid success. And these little grains here? I see a swarm of bees.”
“Really? That’s scary.”
“But it’s good for you, if you like to perform onstage. It means that you will be a hit in front of an audience.”
“Really?” Casey’s smile lit her face. “I’m auditioning for the next school production this week. I hope that means I’ll get a part.”
Rima nodded as she moved on to Jade’s cup, which was not so busy, not so crowded, but also not so clear to her. “First I see a boat. See? Right there. You will receive a visit from a friend. Maybe a su
rprise visit.”
“I keep trying to get my friend to visit from Spain. I studied in Barcelona over the summer. It was so hard to come home in September! I miss my friend.”
“So it looks like she’s coming,” Casey said.
“No. This friend is a he,” Rima said. “There’s a cherry, a sign of love and luck. A secret love affair.”
Jade covered her mouth as she giggled. “It is a guy. Mateo.” She leaned toward the cup. “What else do you see, Mrs. Singh?”
Here was a case in which the tea reading was not something to be broadcast. Rima saw a rocket, the news of a birth. A baby. Would Jade be having a baby with this Mateo? Rima had a strong feeling that the answer was yes. Yes to marriage, too, as she saw a rose in the cup. Strong symbols, but since they were at the bottom of the cup, these events wouldn’t be happening very soon. And maybe these were things Jade wanted. “I see that you or someone very close to you will marry and have a baby.”
“Oh my God.” Jade beamed a smile at the other girls. “That’s amazing.”
“But this is not today. I see it in the future.”
“My destiny!” Jade flung her arms in the air. “I knew you would see love in my cup.”
Rima frowned. “Love” was not synonymous with marriage and a baby, but clearly Jade hadn’t learned that yet.
“I can’t wait to tell Mateo,” Jade said. “We’re supposed to FaceTime later tonight.”
“And I need to start reading over parts for the audition. Thank you so much, Mrs. Singh,” Casey said, coming around the counter to give Rima a hug. Rima patted the girl’s back briskly. Normally she didn’t like to be squeezed by strangers, but Casey meant well.
“You are very welcome.”
The girls took photos of their teacups, asked a few questions, and chatted on for a bit. Rima sipped her own cup of tea, patient, observant. Then the youth cluster wandered off, lost in their cell phones and dreams. Ruby went off with them, fielding their envy over having a grandmother who could read tea leaves.
Rima waited until the girls went out through the French doors, probably heading back to the fire pit. She carried her teacup and saucer over to the sink where Ruby had left her dishes. Yes, this was Ruby’s teacup. She swirled it three times, clockwise, and then drained the excess liquid into the sink.
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