“Should be fun, though, making that place your own.” It was one of the best houses in town, filled with woodwork and cubbyholes, built-in hutches and alcoves.
“Keep going, Ruby,” Mike said, his voice serious. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“When I boil it all down, it’s not all that complicated.” She told him about a fraternity contacting her after a hazing incident. A nineteen-year-old had died of internal bleeding and the guys in the house tried to cover it up.
She told Mike about accepting a job with a school system in South Carolina that wanted a fresh approach to curbing bullying. “After what happened later in Florida, I wished I’d stayed in that town. It was on the coast. I had a little rental house on the marsh side of an island. It was so pretty and peaceful.”
Mike filled his tray with more paint. “Sounds nice. So, you liked the place or the work? Or both?”
“Both.” She stepped back to gauge how much Mike had done of the wall at his end. He was inching closer to her, not the other way around. “No fair. You’re working faster. You’ve got longer arms.”
“It’s not a competition, Rubes,” he teased.
“Oh, really? I don’t know about that. I remember trying to win a few races to the raft out in the lake. Or get more skips in the stones we tossed in the river.” She laughed, but stopped abruptly and put down the roller. “Remember the other day when I said I lost my job because of arrogance?”
Mike quit painting and braced his hand on an unpainted spot on the wall. “You bet I do. Why do you think I’m so curious? You? Arrogant? I never saw that side of you.”
“Well, let’s just say the work I did in South Carolina went well. It wasn’t just fewer bullies gaining traction and terrorizing kids. The whole point was to talk about communication as a baseline, and nurturing empathy and valuing other people.” During the dark days after Florida, Ruby clung to that earlier success as she tried to coax herself to get out of bed and face a new day.
She’d accepted an offer as head of special programming for a midsize school system in Florida because it had a wider reach. “I was seduced by promises of expanding our mandate into cyber-bullying and suicide prevention.”
“Wow, Rubes, apparently, you’re still fearless. You jumped into the middle of the most controversial—and potentially tragic—problems kids face.”
Picking up the roller again, she covered a swath of wall, satisfied that she’d quickly improved the look of it. She kept going, explaining that her program was designed to roll out over three years. But it ran into trouble with an impatient school board demanding instant results. Punishment schemes were more to their liking than the character-development approach. “Once I got there and jumped in, they more or less ridiculed the plan for the first year—the part of the program that depended on communication training. My system to promote empathy was way too soft for this board.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mike asked sarcastically. “I’ve met a few people like that in my line of work.”
“I bet you have. It went wrong all around, but my first mistake was staying after I realized the job wasn’t the same one I had interviewed for. My second mistake was agreeing to launch their watered-down antibullying program, instead of the next phase of my plan.”
She dropped the roller into the pan and opened a bottle of water Mike had put on the table. “I had no time to train or even prep everyone and get them to buy in. The board started bragging about the program and put me on radio and TV to declare it a success.”
Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, from exertion, for sure, but also from feeling so bad about the jumble of memories that were part of this awful time in her life. She’d warned the board but fell for empty promises to do their part. “I helped oversell the program with a media blitz. After the incident happened I saw a replay of myself promising that bullying would soon be history at the county’s public schools.”
Mike looked at her thoughtfully, hand still braced on the wall. “Had you done a lot of media before? I can see you being good at it.”
A little pride crept in, flustering her in front of Mike. “I had a little experience with it—interviews were part of the jobs I had. I had to get good at PR. But I’d never had interviews then used against me by my employer to prove what was bad judgment.”
She told Mike about a boy named Benton, a freshman who had been a target for the mean kids for years. “He’s smart, a little nerdy, pushed around most of his life.”
“He was alone? Isolated?”
Ruby could almost hear Mike’s worries about Jason inside that question. “He hung out with a couple of bullied girls.” Ruby shook her head and took big gulps of water out of the bottle. “Counselors had worked with Benton and the two girls, trying to help them not take the bait but still hold their ground.”
What happened next felt like a nightmare that would never end. “Benton’s old nemesis, Nash, an older kid, pounced the first day of school. Grabbed his backpack and flung it into the fountain pool in front of the school. Then he shoved Benton into the water. Nash the bully had all his mean-kid friends there egging him on.”
Benton had texted his older brother to bring him dry clothes, Ruby explained, and somehow that was the final straw for Benton’s family. It was going to be another year of this sort of aggression. “The principal was supposed to call Nash’s family. He was supposed to call me. But no one followed through—as I feared would happen when we’d finished the first phase of training.”
This was the part of the story where Ruby’s sense of helplessness was raw, like it had all happened yesterday.
“Why do I get the feeling you blame yourself for all this?” Mike asked.
“I am partly to blame. I should have spoken out more, been stronger and stuck to my plan.” Not waiting for Mike to ask, she picked up a brush and started to cover missed spots along the baseboards.
“I can do that later, Ruby.” Mike came closer, gently took the brush from her hand and rested it on the edge of the paint can. “Tell me.”
She turned her face to look at him full-on. “Benton’s older brother and cousin went after Nash with baseball bats. They caught him from behind and poked at him and threatened him. They pushed him all the way to the fountain, shouting and taunting.”
Ruby hadn’t been there and Nash’s buddies had folded fast and scattered. “In the end, Nash took his best swing and Benton’s cousin shoved the bat in his gut and sent him flying into the fountain, but he missed the water and hit the concrete rim first.”
Mike’s mouth dropped open. “Did he kill Nash?”
Ruby closed her eyes. “Almost. It was a miracle he survived.” Ruby recalled the moment of relief when she’d been assured Nash was expected to recover. “Nash had a concussion and was in a coma for two days. He doesn’t remember getting hit, falling, or even waking up.”
Ruby stared into the corner, where Peach, her nap apparently over, had stood and stretched her front legs the way only dogs can do. Peach had been her best friend from the day of the attack on.
When she looked back at Mike, his face was screwed up in disbelief. “And you lost your job because of what happened? Why were you at fault?”
Ruby scoffed. “Well, that brings us back to where we started. My arrogance.” Ruby leaned down and rubbed Peach’s neck and jowls. The dog loved it, but it also comforted Ruby in an odd way.
She told Mike about the crush of press that showed up at the school and how at first she tried to keep a lid on it. But one of the most vocal school-board members, who had been pushing for tougher penalties, sucked up the oxygen before Ruby or the principal could respond. “He claimed my program, which had no chance the way they rolled it out, had led to the violence. He called for stepped-up school suspensions and all sorts of other new punishments.”
She let out a long groan as she shook her head. “Oh, Mike, I knew when I counterpunched it w
ould be much wiser to wait. But I shushed the voice in my head and issued my statement blaming the school board. I was harsh.”
Mike stared at her as if trying to solve a puzzle. “Why was that arrogant? Isn’t it the truth?”
“It was, but I went off on a tangent about communication training for young people in this cyber age.” Sweeping her hand dismissively, Ruby added, “And I made sure the public knew I’d warned the administration, the board—everyone—that the counseling programs were inadequate. In other words, Mike, I made it all about me.”
Ruby flopped in the chair, tired as all the subsequent events flashed before her. Her interviews. The phone call to Benton’s family. The one to Nash’s mom. “I may have blamed everyone else, but in my heart I knew I’d failed Benton. And Nash. I wanted to intervene with Nash the year before, and offer Benton more help, too. I was told the counselors would handle it.”
Mike took a step toward her. Ruby was sure he would have swept her into his arms if she reached out to him. That’s why she kept her hands in her lap.
“Must have come to a head fast.”
“I recognized I was in trouble when a couple of teachers I knew in South Carolina emailed to ask what was going on. With me. One of the counselors called, naturally furious after hearing one of my public statements, the one I made in front of my apartment building with the press camping out there.” She shook her head. “That one still embarrasses me. I had no right to blame the counselors. Their department’s funds had been slashed, which left them underpaid and understaffed. I’ve apologized, but I don’t blame them for not responding.”
With a thoughtful expression, Mike spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “You saw your mistakes, but couldn’t stop yourself from making them.”
Ruby shifted in the chair. “Exactly. My buddies from South Carolina tried to gently, even kindly, suggest I’d burned out.”
Ruby shook her head. If she could have forced Mike to look away from her she’d have done it, but he kept watching her through sympathetic eyes. “I caved to the superintendent. I let something half-finished pass itself off as complete. Worse, I made claims I couldn’t back up.” She gave him a pointed look.
Mike folded his arms across his chest. “Sounds like you were up against an unmovable mountain. We had that kind of situation at the firm now and then. We lost cases because a partner wouldn’t budge on doomed trial strategy.”
“But I went public, Mike. That’s where my own arrogance really stood out. Way too much anger and resentment had built up. Classic burnout symptoms.”
The decision to resign had been almost instant. “The head of the school board drafted a letter firing me and went public with it. Then he called me, but I’d already submitted my resignation.”
“Did your letter have a time stamp?”
Ruby chuckled. “Oh, Mike, what a lawyerlike question. I’d sent it by email and via registered letter, so they were forced to retract what they’d originally said and opted for general talk about how I’d lost my ability to effectively carry out my role in the system and that my leaving had been our mutual decision. The principal’s a popular guy, and has been there forever, so the only available head to roll was mine.” Her phrasing made her laugh, and the corners of Mike’s mouth curled up, too.
Mike leaned closer. “Don’t slug me, Ruby, but it sounds like facing up to your mistake and making a clean break was for the best.”
“Ha. No need to duck, Mike. I’m not in the mood to hit anyone. No, I admit I am burned out. The old Ruby would never have let herself be pressured to do a boatload of PR about a weak program. I had no ducks to even put in a row.” She’d realized just how badly she needed a change when nothing in her apartment meant much anymore. Even the ocean, a half hour ride away, failed to give her comfort. “I made my amends to Benton’s and Nash’s families and my colleagues, who understood the political dynamics rippling below the surface. In the midst of this, Emma called, and Peach and I drove north.”
“What’s next, then?” Mike asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But it won’t be with schools.”
“I can sure see why.”
Ruby got up and pointed to the wall. “Hey, I made a little progress, but I need to get back to Emma. It’s almost lunchtime. Brenda has probably already left by now.”
“Thanks...and I don’t mean just for the help in making this place a real law office. I’m glad you told me what happened.” His voice low, he said, “And now, here you are.”
She ignored the intimate tone and turned to Peach. “Okay, girl, you’ve been a lazy bones long enough. Let’s get moving.”
“Hey, Rubes, I need to grab lunch. Let me pick up soup and sandwiches and bring them to Emma’s.” He cocked his head. “I said I’d contribute.”
No, no, this is dangerous. It was way too easy to hang out with Mike. But she couldn’t make herself refuse. Instead, she said, “Sounds good. Emma likes turkey.”
“And you like roast beef on dark rye, just mustard, no cheese.”
Ruby tapped her temple, appreciating how he’d spoken without hesitation. “What a memory.”
He liked crusty rolls and thick slices of ham and Swiss cheese. She was good at remembering, too.
CHAPTER SIX
“I’LL PUT ANOTHER log on the fire,” Mike said, getting to his feet. “Nice, Emma, having lunch by the fireplace.” Almost too nice. Emma was stretched out across the couch. Ruby was making a pot of coffee, and once he’d had a cup, he had to get back to what waited. Painting, paperwork and calling on his River Street neighbors.
“Peach is pawing at the patio door,” Ruby called from the kitchen. “I’m going to take her for a quick run around the field. I’ll be right back.”
Mike and Emma were quiet for a minute after the sound of the door sliding closed. Finally, he said, “This is going to sound really lame and way too late, Em, but I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch with you and Neil.”
“No, no. You don’t need to say a word,” Emma whispered. “No regrets about Neil. He spent his time with the guys at the auto shop. He made them his crowd after he took the place over from his dad.” She grimaced, as if in pain. “He could have reached out to you. I could have, for that matter. I owe you an apology, too. But, honestly, Mike, things with Neil and me were never great. I’m not sure you’d have wanted to be around us.”
“Like my life keeping my dad glued together was so great?”
Emma struggled to move into a sitting position. “Turns out, Neil and I had little in common. We were like good friends in a really bad marriage. The older we got, the more we diverged, rather than melding together.”
Mike couldn’t pretend to understand. His friends had always seemed perfect for each other.
“Listen, Mike, I need to say something before Ruby gets back. There are things you should know.”
“I know what happened in Florida, the awful way her job ended. If that’s what you mean.”
Emma shook her head. “I’m not talking about that. Ruby will snap back from that. I told you at the hospital about the important work she’s done all these years. No wonder she burned out. I’m not worried. She’ll get her confidence back. This is about Ruby herself.”
His heart beat faster. “I’m listening.”
“I’m not sure she ever got over losing her dad the way she did. Not to mention losing you.” Emma huffed the air out of her lungs as if she’d been holding on to these comments for a while.
“She said she came close to marrying,” Mike said, feeling a dull ache in his chest.
“Could have been Clay, a heart surgeon in Pennsylvania, or there was Harrison, a history professor in North Carolina.”
Oh, sure, there’d be Clays and Harrisons. What guy in his right mind wouldn’t fall for Ruby? But he wasn’t in the mood to hear about men in Ruby’s life. He held up his hand to stop her. “Emma, reall
y, you don’t have to tell me—”
“Yes, I do.” She jabbed the air. If he’d been any closer her finger would have poked his chest. “Ever since she came inside this house, she’s goes on about how she’s leaving. She’s afraid to let her guard down even an inch and refuses to give herself a chance to consider making a life here.”
The ache inside got scraped raw at the thought of her leaving. He hadn’t let himself go there yet.
“Last night she was looking online and came across an opening for a trauma consultant at a hospital in Montana, for Pete’s sake. Montana’s lovely, but that’s thousands of miles away from the people who care about her.”
“I don’t want her to go—that’s the truth. But she still breaks into a run anytime our conversation threatens to lead to our past.” He flipped one of the logs and it sent sparks flying. “She ran away all those years ago believing I hated her for what happened to my mom.”
Emma nodded. “And that you’d never look at her the same way again.”
It was true. At first. “My dad was so bitter, Em. Over that summer, I had no one to confide in. Neil was the only one I told about my dad not getting out of bed for weeks. I did everything at the resort, and got the high-school kids working double shifts. I pretended the resort was going fine.”
“And while that was happening, Ruby sent cheery emails from a resort in Wisconsin,” Emma said. “But I could read between the lines. Then she got a last-minute acceptance to a university in Iowa. Still, she never once mentioned her dad. Or you.”
“I spent most of my days poisoning myself with hating Timothy Driscoll and wondering about my mom. Ruby’s right. I did hate her dad,” Mike confessed. “When I think how I resented my dad for being too weak to get a hold of himself, I still feel shame. I’d gone to such an ugly place inside my head.”
Restless, Mike left the fireplace and grabbed the back of the reading chair, thrumming his fingers on the fabric. “It took me a long time to eventually accept things and understand them for what they were. It was just so hard to get my head around it all. Our parents didn’t have affairs.”
A Family for Jason Page 9
