“To Ariel,” her mother said quietly.
Bella did not lift her glass. “What are we supposed to do now?” she asked belligerently. “Just sit here?”
Frieda held back a sigh of frustration. “I thought that each of us could share our favorite memory of Ariel. Mom? Why don’t you go first?”
Her mother cleared her throat. “My favorite memory of Ariel?” she said. “That’s a tough one. In fact, I’m not sure I can pick just one.”
“Then I’ll go first,” Frieda said. “There are so many wonderful memories, of course. But I’d say one of my all-time favorites is when Ariel played the baby bear in her fifth-grade play. The girl who played Goldilocks had nothing on her. Ariel absolutely stole the show.”
“Yes,” her mother said. “She was awfully good. The costume was adorable.”
“Bella?” Frieda looked to her daughter. “Would you like to share a favorite memory of your sister?”
“No!” Bella cried. “This is stupid! Pretending won’t bring Ariel back, Mom! It just won’t!”
Frieda felt the blood rush to her face. She suddenly felt very angry. “I’m not pretending,” she argued, her voice rising against her will. “Do you think I don’t know that Ariel is gone? Do you think I don’t know I’ll never see her again or hold her hand or brush her hair? Do you think I’m unaware of the fact that she’ll never go to college or get married or have children?” Frieda pointed at the Eiffel Tower atop the cake. “Do you think I’m not haunted by the fact that she’ll never get to Europe like she wanted to do? Why can’t you just—”
“Why can’t you just stop talking!” Bella shouted.
Frieda gripped the edge of the table with both hands. “If Ariel were here she’d—”
“But she’s not here! This is pathetic!” Bella shoved her plate and fork aside and roughly pushed her chair back from the table. Her glass tipped over and the sparkling cider made a widening pool. “I’m out of here!” she shouted, and ran from the room.
“Bella!” Frieda got up to follow.
Ruby put a hand on her arm. “Let her go. Sit. I’ll clean up this spill.”
Frieda winced as the front door slammed shut.
“But Mom—”
“Give her space, Frieda,” her mother replied quietly but firmly as she mopped the table with paper towels. “She’s in no condition to talk right now.”
Frieda rubbed her eyes and sighed. All anger had drained from her and she was left feeling utterly defeated. “You were right, Mom. How could I have been so stupid as to think this was a good idea?”
“Not stupid,” her mother corrected. “Just hopeful. Frieda, what were you going to say when Bella cut you off? That if Ariel were here she would . . .”
“I have absolutely no idea,” Frieda admitted. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper. All I wanted to do was to help Bella, to help all of us, move on in the healing process. I just wanted . . .”
Frieda felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder. “Healing is never straightforward or predictable, Frieda, and that goes for healing after a physical trauma as well as after an emotional trauma. Trust me, I know, and not just because I work in a hospital.”
Her mother returned to her seat and the two women sat in silence, the cake untouched, the sparkling cider going flat. What would Aaron have advised me to do? Frieda wondered. Would he have suggested I not mark my daughter’s birthday? Would he be angry with me for being so selfish and ignoring Bella’s feelings? Frieda glanced once again at the kitchen clock and her heart leaped in her chest. “Maybe we should go look for her, Mom,” she said. “It’s been almost twenty minutes.”
“All right. But let’s not just go chasing in all directions. Think where she might have headed.”
“I don’t know!” Frieda felt panic rising within her, like the panic she had felt in the lobby of the Jamaican resort when it began to dawn on her that something terrible might have happened to her husband and child. At least Bella didn’t have her driver’s license. At least she wasn’t behind the wheel of a car right now, feeling distressed and making reckless decisions. “If she took her bike,” Frieda said, her voice shaking, “she might have ridden into town. Or maybe she went to The Flipper to see her friend—”
Just then the front door opened, and a moment later footsteps pounded up the stairs.
“Wait for it,” Ruby murmured. “And there it is. The slamming door. Well, at least she’s home safe and sound.”
“Thank God.” Frieda took a few steadying breaths. “Maybe this party wasn’t entirely a disaster after all,” she said after a moment. “Bella showed more emotion tonight than I’ve seen her show in months. Maybe that’s something for which to be grateful. Or maybe I’m just refusing to face the full extent of the mess I made.”
“Well,” her mother said robustly, “I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know I’ve never been one to let a perfectly good cake go to waste. I’m having a piece and I suggest you do the same.”
“After I ditch the Eiffel Tower.” Frieda yanked the little monument from the cake and tossed it across the room and into the sink.
Chapter 26
Bella lay curled on her side, her hands under her cheek. The room was dark. What a disaster, she thought, closing her eyes against the shame. She had gotten as far as Mr. Mathis’s house three blocks away when she realized with the force of a physical slap that running off had been an incredibly foolish thing to do. She had never done anything so dramatic. Okay, once when she was about ten she had gotten really angry about something that had happened in school and she had thrown a plate across the kitchen. Ariel had burst into tears and Bella had immediately felt terrible for having caused such chaos.
Chaos like she had caused this evening. Suddenly Bella heard her mother’s and grandmother’s voices drawing near. They were probably coming up to bed. She hoped neither would knock on her door. She was not in the mood to talk. But neither did. Bella breathed a sigh of relief. And she wondered if one of the reasons she had been so upset earlier had anything to do with how she had felt at Phil’s party, so resentful of the other guests who were clearly having a good time. Even when a customer in the shop laughed or exclaimed over a beautiful vase or set of candlesticks Bella tensed with annoyance. She didn’t like feeling so negative all the time, so bitter and agitated, but she couldn’t seem to help it. When her mother had gone on about Ariel playing the baby bear in Goldilocks, a big smile on her face, it was all Bella could do not to scream, “Stop smiling! This is not a fun moment! Things are awful!”
Bella flipped onto her back and frowned into the dark. What was up with her mother these days? What was her mother thinking? It was no secret that she had gone to lunch with that guy she knew from school, but she hadn’t said anything about it afterward, which was weird. When things weren’t a big deal you talked about them. But maybe, Bella thought guiltily, remembering the stricken look on her mother’s face when she had turned and run from the kitchen, maybe she was being unfair in thinking her mother would be so disrespectful of Aaron Braithwaite’s memory as to consider dating so soon after the accident.
As for the celebration . . . Bella sighed. Clearly it had been important for her mother to mark Ariel’s birthday by having a cake and flowers. How many times had Colleen told her that everyone grieved in her own way, that there was no right or wrong way to mourn a loss, that it was a unique and highly personal experience? I’ve been a jerk, Bella thought. And I’m sorry for it. She would apologize to both her mother and her grandmother for running off like she had. They had probably been worried and worrying them had not been her intention—in fact, there had been no intention of any kind behind her tearing out of the house.
Bella suddenly got up and went over to what had been Ariel’s bed. She leaned close to the pillows and thought she could smell the light lemony scent Ariel used to wear. God, she missed her sister so badly! With a sob Bella fell onto the bed and buried her face in Ariel’s pillow. It was the first time in months she had been a
ble to find relief in tears.
Chapter 27
“Knock knock.”
George looked up from his computer and smiled. “It’s the lunch lady,” he said. “Come in.”
“I snagged the last two spinach salads from the cafeteria,” Ruby told him, placing the clear plastic containers on his desk.
“Thousand Island dressing?”
“Of course.” Ruby pulled two packages of dressing from her pocket and tossed one to George. From another pocket she extracted two white plastic forks, and then she sat gratefully in the guest chair. Her stupid leg was acting up again; she had already taken three ibuprofen tablets that morning and was determined to take no more.
“I’m starved,” she said. “That new nursing assistant is going to be the death of me. Either that or I’ll wind up killing her. How do they let some of these people graduate? I swear, George, she’s as dumb as a post. Nice enough, just dumb.”
“Eat. And then tell me how the party or memorial or whatever Frieda intended it to be went.”
Ruby took a bite of her salad, chewed, and swallowed. “Not well,” she said. “I know Frieda needed to honor what would have been a milestone birthday for Ariel, but poor Bella was so upset. There were some harsh words spoken and then Bella ran off. She was gone about twenty minutes before she came home safe and sound.”
George frowned. “How is Frieda faring this morning?”
“I don’t really know, by which I mean she didn’t mention the party at all and she seemed her usual self. Well, her new usual self. Not quite the Frieda she used to be.”
“We none of us are the people we used to be, not ten years ago, not a year ago, not even an hour ago.” George smiled. “All is change.”
“You know,” Ruby said musingly, “when Frieda married Aaron and the girls came along I was so relieved. I finally knew I’d done a decent job as a mother. I’ve given my daughter the tools she needed to make good choices and to be happy. And then it was all ripped away from her. What did Frieda do to deserve this hell she’s living in now? Nothing.” Ruby sighed. “Then again, no one ever does anything to deserve the pain life dishes out for them. Phil’s Tony didn’t deserve to die the way he did, shunned by ignorant people too scared to hold his hand when he needed comfort most. Jack’s Veronica didn’t deserve to die the way she did, either, never having had the experience of motherhood she so wanted. But that’s just life, isn’t it? Maybe the people who tell us to be happy in the moment have it right. Focus on what’s happening exactly at that moment, forget the past and the future, and know that nothing stays the same for forever. I suppose there’s some peace of mind to be found in that.”
“There certainly is,” George said with a nod. “Though from my personal experience I find that staying in the moment for more than a moment isn’t particularly easy.”
“I know. Sometimes I still find myself thinking that I could have prevented that crash fifteen months ago.”
George shook his head. “That’s magical thinking, Ruby.”
“I know it is. But sometimes magical thinking is all I have.”
“Sometimes it’s all any of us have,” George remarked.
Ruby sighed and snapped shut the lid on the empty plastic container. “I’ve got to get back to work. Thanks, George. I didn’t mean to be so gloomy. I hope I haven’t spoiled your day.”
George got up from his chair and came around the desk. Ruby rose to meet him and he kissed her gently.
“You know I love you,” he said.
“I know,” she told him. “And I love you.”
And she meant it. Then why, she wondered as she left George’s office, was she still unable to take another chance on marriage?
Chapter 28
Ruby’s cell phone alerted her to an e-mail. It was from one of the members of The Page Turners. I’ve got a great book for us to read this fall, Maggie wrote. I can’t remember the title or who wrote it, but I heard about it on the radio. It’s set in Australia. I think. Maybe New Zealand. Anyway, it sounds fantastic!
Maggie meant well, but she was a bona fide airhead. Ruby wasn’t sure how Maggie ever managed to make it through an entire book without forgetting what it was she was reading. Maybe she never did.
Ruby got up from the kitchen table and poured herself a glass of water. Any mention of The Land Down Under brought thoughts of Aaron’s parents, who had moved to Australia shortly after Aaron and Frieda’s wedding to live near their son Ben, who was nearly twenty years older than his surprise baby brother. Albert and Janet had never met Bella and Ariel, but they were dutiful grandparents from afar, sending birthday and Christmas greetings without fail; it was more than Grandpa Hitchens had ever managed. Still, it was a sore point with Ruby that Aaron’s parents and brother hadn’t bothered to return to the United States for the funeral. True, it was approximately a ten-thousand-mile journey and they had sent sincere condolences in the form of flowers and letters, but . . .
Ruby finished her water and put the glass into the dishwasher. It was just that she had taken to Aaron right from the start and by the time he died she had long come to regard him as her son. How many mothers-in-law were so lucky?
“Hi, Grandma.”
“Hi to you,” Ruby said as Bella came into the kitchen and headed for the fridge. “How was work?”
Bella shrugged. “It was all right.”
Ruby hadn’t seen Bella since breakfast, at which she had been largely silent. Directly after breakfast she had gone off to Phil’s shop. When Ruby had gotten home from the hospital that afternoon, Bella was shut up in her room.
“Well,” Ruby said, raising an eyebrow, “I hope you show a little more enthusiasm with the customers. At least fake it, like I suggested you do at Phil’s party.”
Bella managed a smile.
“Hi.”
Frieda stood at the doorway.
“And how was your day?” Ruby asked. The awkwardness between her daughter and granddaughter was as palpable as it had been that morning and for some reason it annoyed Ruby more than it worried her.
“Fine, thanks,” Frieda said.
A silence that further tested Ruby’s patience descended on the room. “One of you had better say something,” she announced. “Or—”
“Sorry I ran off last night, Grandma,” Bella said abruptly. “Sorry, Mom.”
“We were worried,” Ruby said simply. This was not the time for scolding or moralizing.
“I know.” Bella looked at the floor. “Sorry I got so upset.”
“Please don’t run off again, Bella,” Frieda said. “Please. I . . . Just promise.”
Bella nodded. “I promise.”
Chirrup! Chirrup!
“That’s me.” Frieda pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “Hi,” she said. “You did? . . . That’s fantastic, Jack.... Thanks. I’ll meet you there at a quarter to seven. Bye.”
“What was that about?” Bella asked with a frown. “What’s fantastic?”
“Jack just got tickets for third-row seats at tonight’s performance of The King and I at The Ogunquit Playhouse. You don’t mind, Mom, do you?”
“Why should I mind?” Ruby said. “Go and have a good time.”
“It’s my favorite musical. I’d been thinking about splurging on tickets.” Frieda looked at her watch. “Yikes. I’d better go get dressed.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Bella,” Ruby said when Frieda had gone. “There’s a patient on my floor, a sixteen-year-old girl who’s in for surgery to help correct a pretty severe case of scoliosis.”
Bella shrugged. “So? I mean that’s too bad about the scoliosis, but . . .”
“Yes, it is too bad. She’s in a lot of pain. Anyway, she lost her little brother about a month ago to a very aggressive cancer. She’s very depressed about that and scared about the operation. I thought you might be able to help her.”
“Why me?” Bella asked, and Ruby thought she looked genuinely perplexed. “What could I do?”
�
��You could talk to her because you lost your only sibling, too. You understand what she’s going through, at least the grieving part if not the medical issue. You might be able to help her deal with her unhappiness.”
Bella laughed a bit wildly. “How can I help someone else when I can’t even help myself?” She turned then and stalked out of the kitchen; Ruby heard her feet pounding up the stairs and then the door of her room shut loudly. This is getting to be a habit, Ruby thought. But at least Bella had kept her promise and not run out of the house.
A moment later Frieda reappeared in the kitchen, wearing a mint-green linen sheath; her hair was pulled back in a chignon and Ruby noted that she was wearing earrings for the first time that summer. “What was that noise?” Frieda asked.
“That was Bella being dramatic again,” Ruby told her, “not that she doesn’t have cause to be. Still, I wish she’d be gentle with the doors. They are over a hundred years old.”
“At least she apologized for running out last night.”
“I know,” Ruby said, “and apologizing was the right thing for her to do. Still, I’d like her to really mean it. I’d like her to learn that storming off isn’t a solution to anything. She has to learn again how to use her words.”
Frieda sighed. “Do you think I should stay home this evening? Try to talk to her? She was so upset last night. I’m sure Jack would understand if I canceled.”
“No,” Ruby said firmly. “I think you should go to the theater with him and enjoy yourself. I’ll man the fort and deal with any further dramatic gestures.”
“Thanks, Mom. Jack said the show is over at ten. I suppose we might stop for a bite to eat afterward, but I’m sure I’ll be home well before midnight. Call me on my cell if—”
“There will be no ifs,” Ruby said firmly. “Now go.”
Frieda kissed her mother’s cheek and left the room. Alone, Ruby felt suddenly exhausted. She sank gratefully into a chair at the table. At that moment she wasn’t sure anything good was being accomplished this summer by having Frieda and Bella at home. Well, Frieda seemed well enough in spite of the debacle of the commemoration party, unless of course she was hiding her distress. But Bella . . .
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