Coming Apart

by Ann M. Martin

“Luckily, you’re modest,” said Flora.

  “Luckily, you’re jealous,” said Ruby.

  “Girls,” said Min. “Please.”

  Ruby’s progress report was better than even she could have imagined. “I might almost make straight A’s on my next report card!” she exclaimed at dinnertime as Min read her teacher’s comments. “Flora, have you ever made straight A’s?”

  “Twice.”

  “When was the last time?”

  “Ruby, I don’t know. Sixth grade, okay?”

  “J-E-A-L-O-U-S,” sang Ruby. “Min, would you like more pasta?”

  Min was shaking her head in disbelief. “Ruby, I’m mighty proud of you, honey. You’ve worked very hard. I think we ought to celebrate. We’ll go out to dinner this weekend, the three of us and Rudy Pennington. How would you like to go to Fig Tree?”

  “Really? We can go to Fig Tree?” squeaked Ruby.

  “You’re kidding? We’re going to Fig Tree?” squeaked Flora.

  Fig Tree was the most expensive restaurant in Camden Falls, and a reservation was made there for special occasions only.

  Min glanced briefly at Flora and then said, “Yes. Fig Tree it is. Good work, Ruby.”

  Ruby finished her supper with a smile on her face. “May I be excused?” she asked, and when Min said yes, Ruby carried her plate to the sink, rinsed it off, and stashed it in the dishwasher. “I have to do my math homework,” she announced, and disappeared upstairs.

  Ruby sat at her desk with two worksheets before her. Twice she picked up her pencil and then put it down again. Her hand drifted to the bottom drawer of her desk. She glanced into the hallway. Empty. She listened for the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Nothing.

  Silently, Ruby opened the drawer and found the envelope she’d stuffed into the back. It wasn’t labeled, since she didn’t want anyone to know what was in it — and it was very fat, since it was stuffed with bills. Ruby slid them out and counted them. She now had enough money so that she could go back to the fancy jewelry store and tell the haughty clerk that he could put the crystal owl on hold for her. She would be able to pay for it in just a few weeks. Pay for it in full. She had worked hard, and very soon she would be able to right her wrong.

  “What’s that?”

  Ruby jumped at the sound of the voice, and the bills scattered across her desk. She scrambled to gather them into a pile. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” she exclaimed as she slid them back in the envelope.

  “Your door was open,” Flora replied.

  Ruby knew she’d been careless. What if Min had seen her? “Well, you still could have knocked.”

  Flora ignored her. She sat on Ruby’s bed. “I suppose that’s the owl money?”

  “Yup.” Ruby returned the envelope to the desk and shut the drawer firmly.

  “So you’re really going through with this?”

  Ruby scowled at her sister. “How many times do we have to talk about it? Min’s not going to be able to —” She glanced at her open door, crossed the room, closed it, and sat at her desk again. “Min’s not going to be able to tell the owls apart,” she said quietly. “She’ll never know anything happened, so she won’t have to get upset. I’m just trying to spare her feelings.”

  “Spare yourself, you mean.”

  “Well, what do you want me to do?”

  “Tell Min the truth!”

  “I haven’t lied to her! And if I do tell the truth …” Ruby paused and injected an impressive quaver into her voice. “If I t-tell her,” (sob) “it w-will just m-make her start reliving the a-accident and everything again.”

  Flora shook her head. “Do you really believe what you’re saying?”

  “Look, if you think what I’m doing is so wrong, why don’t you tell Min about the owl?”

  “Because then I’d be a tattletale.”

  “Yup.”

  “And anyway, you should be the one to tell her.”

  “Exactly. This is none of your business. You even said so yourself.”

  “That’s not the point and you know it. You did something wrong, and you know the correct way to fix the problem. But you’re taking the easy way out.”

  “The easy way out?! You think what I’ve been doing is easy?”

  “I guess lying and fooling people is pretty hard.” Flora stood up. “I hope you enjoy your special dinner, Ruby. It’s exactly what a liar and a cheater deserves.”

  The dinner at Fig Tree took place on Saturday evening.

  “Fancy dress,” Min announced when she returned from Needle and Thread that afternoon. “A chance to get all gussied up.”

  “Um, do we actually have to wear dresses?” asked Ruby.

  When Min said yes, Ruby didn’t press the point.

  Min, Flora, and Ruby in their best dresses, and Mr. Pennington in his best winter suit, arrived at Fig Tree at six-thirty and were shown to a round table near the fireplace.

  “Isn’t this festive?” said Min.

  “And cozy,” added Mr. Pennington. “There’s nothing cozier than a fire.”

  “Dinner is on me,” announced Min, “and this is a celebration, so please order whatever you want.”

  “Could I have a cocktail?” asked Ruby.

  “You may have a Shirley Temple,” Min replied, peering at Ruby over her reading glasses. “You too, Flora.”

  “I’ll just have a seltzer, thank you,” said Flora.

  The waiter took their drink orders and Ruby studied her menu. “Prime rib!” she exclaimed.

  Flora kicked her under the table, then leaned over and whispered, “That’s the most expensive thing on the menu.”

  “Well, I never almost got straight A’s before. And anyway, Min said to order what we want.”

  When the drinks arrived, Ruby reached for her Shirley Temple, but before she could take a sip, Min held her glass aloft and said, “Just a moment. I would like to make a toast. To Ruby, for all her hard work and for demonstrating what a responsible and mature young lady she’s becoming.”

  Ruby looked across the table at her grandmother’s beaming face and saw that her eyes were glistening with tears. She detected a quaver (a genuine one) in her voice.

  “Um, thank you,” said Ruby.

  “I know these last two years haven’t been easy for either of you,” Min continued, “and I’m proud of both my girls. You’ve overcome a lot of obstacles. And Ruby, you’ve made some remarkable choices in the last few weeks. Good for you.”

  Ruby took a swallow of her Shirley Temple then, but an uncomfortable feeling was creeping into her chest. Remarkable choices. Had her choices been remarkable? (She knew what Flora would say: remarkably bad.) Had she been responsible and mature? Ruby had thought so. The decision to replace the owl in secret had been made in order to spare Min’s feelings.

  Hadn’t it?

  The waiter returned to the table. “Are you ready to order?” he asked.

  Min gestured to Ruby. “You go first. The dinner is in your honor.”

  “I’ll have the chicken,” said Ruby in a small voice.

  “You were pretty quiet at dinner tonight,” Flora said later as she perched on the edge of Ruby’s bed. “I think Min wondered what was wrong.”

  Ruby said nothing. She couldn’t forget Min’s face as she’d made the toast.

  “You’re starting to feel guilty, aren’t you?”

  “No!”

  Flora looked smug. “Yes, you are. And you should be.”

  “I am not. Anyway, the new owl is already on hold for me. I went to the store yesterday. I told that mean guy that I want to buy the owl as a birthday present for my grandmother, and he agreed to hold it for me for a month.”

  “So you told another lie!” cried Flora.

  “I told a lie. And I haven’t lied to Min.”

  “Not telling her about the owl is like lying.”

  “Like lying. Like lying. It isn’t actually lying.”

  “Girls? What’s going on in there?” called Min from the hallway
.

  “Nothing,” Flora said, and flounced back to her room.

  Ruby threw herself onto her bed and buried her head underneath the pillow.

  “Everybody ready?” called Nikki’s mother from the front door of the Shermans’ house.

  “Ready!” replied Nikki.

  “Mae?” said Mrs. Sherman.

  “Almost ready.” Mae struggled down the stairs, carrying a bulging backpack.

  “What on earth is in there?” asked Nikki.

  “Some books, a sandwich, a banana, my crayons —”

  “Mae! Why are you bringing all that to Needle and Thread?”

  “You said we were going to spend the day there. So I brought lunch and also some stuff to do in case I get bored.”

  “But, Mae, we’re going to be working on the quilt. And you’re going to be a helper. There will be plenty to do. Plus, I think Min and Gigi will have food for us.”

  Mae set her backpack down and eyed it longingly. “I made a bologna and peanut butter sandwich. My favorite. Can I at least bring that?”

  Nikki wrinkled her nose. “If you must.”

  Mae fished the sandwich out of the backpack and followed her mother and Nikki to the car. She strapped herself into the backseat, and as Mrs. Sherman turned the car around she said, “Did we see the back end of your husband?”

  “What?” asked Mrs. Sherman.

  “That day, before he took my doll, your old husband said you wanted to see the back end of him. Did we see his back end?”

  “I’m pretty sure we did,” replied Mrs. Sherman. “Remember? We talked about that? I have custody of you, and you don’t have to visit your father unless you want to.”

  “Okay,” said Mae.

  In the days since Mr. Sherman had left, Nikki’s family had tried to resume their lives. Tobias had gone back to school and had worked out some arrangement for making up his missed classes and exams. Nikki had gleefully turned her father’s cleared-out workshop into a shelter for the stray dogs. And Mrs. Sherman was setting aside a little money each week to replace Peppy and the dollhouse.

  Nikki looked out the window as her mother sped along the county road. The trees were still bare, but the snow that had continued to fall throughout February had melted. She cracked her window open and felt a warm breeze on her face, smelled spring in the air.

  “Tell me again what we’re doing today,” said Mae from the backseat.

  “Flora had an idea,” Nikki told her. “You know the community center? Where you might take ballet lessons this summer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, they need some extra money.”

  “I could use some extra money,” said Mae.

  Nikki smiled. “The community center needs a lot of extra money, though, or they might not be able to stay open. So Flora had the idea that if everyone helped make a quilt, Min and Gigi could auction if off at Needle and Thread and give the money to the community center to help them out.”

  “We’re going to make a quilt today?” said Mae. “I don’t know how to make a quilt.”

  “You don’t have to know how. Everyone who stops by the store is just going to decorate squares for the quilt. Then Min and Gigi and Flora will sew the squares together. You might want to start thinking about your own quilt square, Mae. The theme is Camden Falls. You could make a picture of something you like in town — your school or the library. You could draw it on your square, or I could show you how to embroider it, if you want to use thread instead of markers.”

  Mae was quiet.

  “Mae?” said Nikki.

  “Shh. I’m thinking.”

  “I’ll pick you up after work today,” said Mrs. Sherman as she dropped Nikki and Mae off in front of Needle and Thread. “Have fun!”

  Needle and Thread was already busy.

  “Look how many people are here,” said Nikki as she opened the door for Mae.

  Seated around a large worktable in the back of the store were Mr. Pennington, Robby Edwards, Olivia, Ruby, two girls from Ruby’s class at school, and a woman Nikki didn’t recognize.

  “Hi!” called Flora, hurrying to greet Nikki. “This is great! We have three finished squares already, and they look wonderful. Do you want to help or make your squares first?”

  “I’ll help,” Nikki offered.

  “I want to make a square,” said Mae, “since I’ve been thinking about it and I have a really great idea.”

  Nikki settled Mae at the worktable, and the morning sped by. She helped Flora, who was handing out squares of muslin and demonstrating various needlework techniques.

  “You can draw with fabric paints,” Nikki told each new arrival. “You can use actual quilting techniques — piecing and appliqué — or you can embroider a picture. You can even embellish your picture with ribbons and buttons, almost like scrapbooking. Just remember that each square has to have something to do with Camden Falls. That’s our theme.”

  Nikki watched the finished squares pile up. Robby had used fabric paints to draw a picture of the Row Houses. “I couldn’t get them all on one square, though,” he said. “I had to use three. They go next to each other like this, okay?” He arranged the squares in a row.

  Flora’s square, with neatly appliquéd figures, showed a scene on Main Street.

  Ruby, whose talents lay in areas other than crafts and sewing, handed Flora a square with a painting of a witch on it, complete with a pointed hat and a broom.

  “Um, Ruby?” said Flora. “The theme is Camden Falls.”

  “Hello, I starred in a play called The Witches of Camden Falls,” replied Ruby. “That was about our town’s history.”

  “Do you think,” said Flora, trying to choose her words carefully, “that you might want to include that somewhere? Here, I can show you how to embroider the title of the play along the bottom. It’s easy. Really.”

  Mae’s square, when she finally finished it, having worked huddled on the floor in a corner of the store so that no one would steal her idea, was a list of book titles, which she had written out in her best handwriting in red, blue, and green fabric markers. She handed the square to Nikki.

  “Huh,” said her sister, sneaking a glance at Flora, “The Wind in the Willows, A Bear Called Paddington, James and the Giant Peach, The Invention of Hugo Cabret … Mae, this —”

  “Isn’t it creative?” said Mae proudly. “You said to make something about Camden Falls, and that’s a list of my favorite books at the library.”

  “Oh,” replied Nikki. “I see. That’s great, Mae.” She paused. “You know what might make it even better? If you added something — just some little something — to let people know how much the library means to you.”

  “Okay,” Mae said, and returned to her corner.

  At one o’clock, Gigi called from the counter, “Lunch break! Our treat! Everyone stop working!”

  And as if by magic, a stack of pizzas appeared from College Pizza; soda and water were delivered, cold, from the market; and Olivia’s father arrived with a tray of chocolates and pastries from Sincerely Yours.

  “Perhaps not the most nutritious lunch,” said Gigi as Min cleared the worktable and set out the food, “but it’s fun.”

  “And delicious!” said Mae, whose mouth was full of bologna and peanut butter.

  When the food had been eaten, Nikki, Flora, Olivia, and Ruby assembled the sewing supplies again, and the afternoon was spent once more helping with the creation of quilt squares. Nikki saw images of the ice cream shop, the movie theatre, the Christmas tree in the town square, the community center, Mayor Howie, and scenes (non-witch) from Camden Falls history, the annual Halloween parade, and, of course, Needle and Thread.

  “We have too many squares for one quilt,” Flora announced later in the afternoon. “Either that, or we’ll have to make the world’s largest quilt.”

  “Could you make two quilts?” asked Nikki.

  “Hey, that’s a good idea,” said Flora. “It would be a lot of work, but then we could auction off b
oth of them and raise even more money. I’ll talk to Min and Gigi.”

  At the end of the long and satisfying day, Min told the last few customers that thanks to their hard work and the work of everyone who had dropped by the store, they would indeed be able to make two quilts. “We expect to finish them by the beginning of the summer,” she added. “We’ll hold the auction here at Needle and Thread. Spread the word. And be generous with your bids.”

  “Min!” exclaimed Flora in a hushed voice. “That’s not exactly tactful.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said Min. “It’s for a good cause.” She raised her voice. “Be very generous.”

  Nikki smiled and realized that she had not thought of her father in hours.

  The March day that Mr. Pennington had chosen for Jacques’s farewell was sunny and much warmer than usual for early spring.

  “Jacques would have liked today,” Flora remarked to Min over breakfast. “This was his favorite kind of weather. He probably would have spent the morning lying on the bench in Mr. Pennington’s backyard.”

  “When he was a puppy, he would have spent it flying around the yard, chasing butterflies and leaves,” Min said.

  “I wish I had known Jacques when he was a puppy. I only knew him when he was an old dog.”

  “We’ll all have a chance to talk about Jacques today and to share our memories of him. That’s what Mr. Pennington wants.”

  “Do you think it will make him sad?” wondered Flora.

  “Probably. But in a good way. It’s always nice to remember the ones we’ve loved.”

  Flora slid her eyes toward Ruby, who suddenly needed to pay a lot of attention to the milk she was pouring on her cereal.

  “Yes,” agreed Flora. “It’s nice to remember the ones we’ve loved. And the things we loved about them. And the things that were important to them.”

  Ruby’s face grew pink, but still she said nothing.

  “Yup, it sure makes us feel comforted to have memories and, oh, mementos of people we loved, people we miss now. Being able to hold on to things —”

  Ruby shoved her chair back from the table, stood up so fast that she nearly tipped her chair over, and marched out of the kitchen.