“I’ll be damned.” Andrew laughed. They slapped one another on the back, both of them hysterical as they ripped and gouged at the boxes. From time to time one or the other would say something funny and they’d go off into peals of laughter. “Bet there’s all kinds of stuff here you can take back to the bimbette in Maui.” They collapsed on a pile of cardboard cartons, laughing their heads off. Neither of them noticed their children at the top of the steps, or Amber and Opal, who were staring at them as though they’d lost their minds.
Exhausted with their efforts, Andrew put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I have to get the hell away from you before this kind of stuff starts rubbing off on me. You did okay, Ruby,” he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “You really did okay. Jesus, I haven’t laughed like that in years. I’m glad I came.”
“I’m glad, too, Andrew. What say we throw you a soiree when you hit the big six-five?”
“You’re on, but let’s do it on my turf.”
“You ready, Dad?”
“I’ve been thinking, Marty, how would you like to spend a few days with your old man?”
“I’d love it!” Martha beamed.
“But,” Andrew said, holding up his hand, “I want to drive that Testarossa.”
“Okay,” Martha said happily.
“Bye, Mom. Bye,” she said to her aunts and uncle. Ruby winked. Martha ran back to her mother. “Thanks, Mom.”
When the sounds of the Ferrari faded away, Andy drew his mother to the side. “You’re the best, Ma.”
Later, when Amber said good-bye, Ruby thought, I’m never going to see her again. And I don’t care. She means good-bye in the true sense of the word. “Good-bye, Amber. Good-bye, Nangi,” she said, holding on to her brother-in-law a moment longer than necessary.
A minute later, Opal was half out the door, waving airily. “Nice party, Ruby” was all she said.
Ruby stood on the rise, the dogs at her feet, watching till Nangi’s rental car was out of sight.
“I think, mind you, this is just my opinion,” she said to the dogs, who stopped squabbling long enough to listen, “but I think I just leapt another hurdle.” She dusted her hands dramatically to show what she thought of her latest effort.
On the way to the barn Ruby carried on a running conversation with the dogs. “Don’t you just love it when the party is for you and you have to clean up?” Suddenly she bolted as she remembered the tiny puppy in the sneaker box. “God, how could I have forgotten!” she shrieked. He was asleep, curled into his paws, prettier than any diamond, more gorgeous than a spring bouquet. A smile spread across her face.
The phone rang. Ruby scooped up the receiver as she poured detergent into the dishwasher. She heard a strange voice say, “This is Eve Santos.”
Ruby sucked in her breath, her eyes frantic as she pulled a chair out from the table.
“Yes?”
“I know all about the lawsuit,” Eve Santos said coldly. “I also have all the letters you wrote to Calvin. I’ll make them public if you go through with this ... this circus. What do you hope to gain? We don’t have any money. Not the kind of money your attorney is demanding.”
The dogs were at attention at her feet, Doozie on her lap. They watched her face, their eyes wide and unblinking. “It’s no longer in my hands, Mrs. Santos. You shouldn’t be calling me. If you have something to say, have your attorney speak with my attorney.”
“You want my husband, don’t you? That’s what this is all about,” Eve said nastily.
“Where did you get my phone number?”
“In a letter you wrote to Calvin. He doesn’t even know you sent it. I open the mail at the office.”
“Why is that, Mrs. Santos? What are you afraid of? Certainly not me.”
“I’ve known about you for a long time. I told Calvin I knew. I told him I would tell our children if he did something stupid.”
Ruby had her wits about her now. “Are you eating peanuts, Mrs. Santos?”
“What?” Eve sputtered.
“Don’t threaten me, Mrs. Santos. I personally don’t care what you do or who you tell. I’m perfectly happy to let everything come out if this case goes to court. All the things I know about you, I’ll say them, too. So remember that when you threaten me. You should be discussing this with Calvin, not me. All I want is the money due to me, which, by the way, he admits he owes in a letter I have in my possession.”
“I’ll give you back your letters if you give me the ones Calvin wrote you.”
Oh, Calvin, what do you have here? “I’m sorry, Mrs. Santos, I can’t do that. I don’t make deals.”
“I know who you are. You think money can buy anything. Well, it can’t buy Calvin.”
“I know who you are, too, Mrs. Santos. And I never tried to buy your husband. I wanted Calvin’s love, yes, because he said it was his to give. But I never bought it. I’d like it if you’d hang up now, Mrs. Santos.”
“I’ll never give him a divorce. You’ll never get him,” Eve said venomously.
“You know what, Mrs. Santos? I think you and your husband deserve each other. Do what you want. We’ll see one another in court. And don’t call me again. Good-bye. Oh, yes, give Calvin my regards.” Ruby slammed the phone down. Doozie hissed.
Ruby carried on a running conversation with herself as she snapped the dogs’ leashes onto their collars. She continued her discussion as she walked the dogs to the pond and back. She played the conversation over and over in her mind. She should have said this, shouldn’t have said that. “The hell with it!” she muttered as she returned to the house. Calvin and Eve Santos were history.
To Ruby, the seasons of her life seemed to leapfrog ahead of her. Nineteen eighty-six was a blur, 1987 blurrier still.
The chrysanthemums were gone now, replaced with holly, a sure sign that winter was ready and waiting to settle on the valley. Christmas was less than ten days away.
What had she done these past two years to make the time go so fast? At times she felt as if she were on an out-of-control treadmill, racing ahead to what she didn’t know. What she did know was that there weren’t enough hours in her days. She went full-tilt from morning to night.
The kitchen was sunny and warm, just the way she liked it in the early hours. She hadn’t changed anything in the farmhouse; lemons were still on the table, the fire still blazed, the dogs still snoozed, Charlotte still sang her heart out most of the day, Doozie still sat on top of the refrigerator. She, Ruby Blue, hadn’t changed, either.
But Dixie still hadn’t been located and Calvin had managed to stall her lawyers and the lawsuit, but he’d finally given up and paid. She wondered if she would ever hear from him again. Somehow she doubted it. And she doubted that she would care.
There was something ominous about today, Ruby thought from the kitchen window as she watched the snow fall. She couldn’t explain her feelings. She thought about calling Nola to invite her and her son for Christmas. Maybe, just maybe he and Marty would hit it off. She didn’t want to talk, though. She couldn’t explain that to herself, either.
Andy was fine, working on the ice-skating rink he was designing for a hockey player who lived twenty miles down the road. She’d never seen Andy as happy as he’d been this past year. Hockey had always been his first love, when it came to sports. Marty was fine, too. Ruby had called her earlier in the day. There had been a letter from Nola in the mail. Nothing wrong there. It was her. The fine hairs on the back of her neck started to prickle. Somewhere, something was wrong. Something that involved her somehow.
Because she didn’t know what else to do, she called Andrew. She could hear the sound of the surf when he spoke on the portable phone he carried with him everywhere. “Andrew, it’s Ruby. Listen, I’d like it if you’d come for Christmas. It will be just us and maybe Nola and her son. How about it?”
“Send me a ticket and I’m yours. First class, Ruby. Yeah, I’d like to see snow again. Hey, thanks for asking. I’ll look forward to it. I’ll start t
o make plans. Is anything wrong?”
“No, of course not. I just thought you’d like to spend Christmas with your family.”
“You sound a little strange.”
“I don’t know. Today is kind of strange. I feel ... like something is going to happen. It’s snowing, but then, I love snow. Maybe I’m ...”
“Getting eccentric in your old age?” Andrew chuckled. “Make yourself a drink and say the hell with whatever is bothering you. That’s what I do. Gotta go, Ruby, I got some cash customers waiting. Thanks for the invitation.”
“My pleasure, Andrew.” Suddenly she didn’t want to hang up. She needed to keep talking, needed to hear another voice, but Andrew was already gone. She called the office, but her secretary couldn’t talk either.
She loved the snow, had always loved the snow. Maybe if she went for a walk by herself, her head would clear and she could shake off this ominous feeling settling between her shoulders. Or she could go back into the living room and finish her Christmas wrapping. She decided on the walk.
Ruby returned two hours later, her legs aching, but she felt good, less tense. She hung up her coat and set about making some vanilla hazelnut coffee. She loved the smell of it. The dogs were on their feet the moment the coffee grinder whirred to life. She carried her steaming cup into the living room, the animals on her heel. The Christmas tree was up, but unadorned. Ruby brought out the ornaments.
By five o’clock the huge living room was fragrant with balsam. A fire blazed, the Christmas tree lights twinkled, the mistletoe and the huge wreath, with its red velvet bow, proclaimed that the Christmas season had arrived at Orchard Circle. Ruby dusted her hands dramatically as she closed the last box of ornaments. She’d done it all herself. For the first time in many years, she felt the Christmas spirit.
She was humming to herself, the stereo was playing Christmas songs, the dogs were tramping through the pile of wrap and ribbons she’d left in the middle of the floor. Doozie was hopelessly tangled in a skein of red ribbon.
Gaily wrapped presents were piled as high as the branches of the tree in a wide half circle. They were also piled in corners, on tables, and under tables, on chairs and sofas. They were piled in crazy angles at the base of the stairs and into the alcove. Mounds of presents stood like sentinels on each side of the front door. The dining room contained the overflow, as did the room she called the library. Hundreds of presents, maybe thousands, for all she knew. She shopped daily and wrapped nightly. She had presents for everyone: Mikey, Biddy, the Semolina brothers and cousins, her children, and Andrew. The dogs had their own pile, as did Doozie.
She’d been baking for days now and the smells in the house were so delightful, she walked around sniffing and smiling to herself.
Charlotte was singing a chorus from “Jingle Bells” when Ruby walked into the kitchen to toss a pile of crumpled papers into the trash. Her front doorbell rang just as she was pulling the vacuum cleaner from the closet. Doozie’s back went up. Sam snarled as he raced from the kitchen to the living room and the front door. Fred growled low in her throat. The only person who ever rang her front doorbell was Rob Frazier, the woodcutter.
Surely it wasn’t Rob, not in this weather.
The bell rang a second time. “Okay, okay, I’m coming. Stay!” she ordered the dogs. When the bell rang a third time, Charlotte started to sing again.
Ruby opened the door, fully expecting to see Rob Frazier.
“Dixie!” Ruby did the only thing she could think of. She slammed the door shut. Doozie hissed as she circled Ruby’s trembling legs. Sam’s ears flattened against his head. Fred continued to growl. Number Five was tramping through the Christmas wrap. Ruby watched her squat and pee. She felt her eyes roll back in her head.
The doorbell rang again and again.
Ruby opened the door a second time.
“Please Ruby, can I come in?”
“Why?” Ruby demanded.
“Because I need to talk to you.”
“Lately everyone needs to talk to me. Well, I don’t need to talk to you. Get the hell off my property, Dixie. I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want to talk to you, either.”
All the old anger and hurt rushed to the surface. She completely forgot about the private detective and the soul-searching she’d done in regard to Dixie.
“Then I’ll stand out here and freeze, because. I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
“Suit yourself,” Ruby said, slamming the door a second time.
The animals were in a frenzy, sensing their mistress’s distress.
Ruby felt out of control, much the way she’d felt the night Hugo Sinclaire’s ashes had rained over her. In her heart of hearts she’d always hoped Dixie would come back, but the logical side of her believed she’d never see her old friend again. How many times she’d rehearsed different scenarios, from wrapping Dixie in her arms and saying, “Whatever it is, it’s okay, I forgive you,” to “Get the hell out of my life, drop dead, go away, I never want to see you again.” The ornery streak in her said Dixie had to pay for all the hurt and anger. Standing in the cold and snow was a small payback for the anguish she’d suffered.
The time was here. She could play out whatever scene she wanted.
Ruby parted the sheer curtain on the slim pane of glass in her front door. Dixie was sitting on the steps, her arms wrapped around her knees. A stubborn woman. Dixie would sit there till she took root or froze to death. She owed Dixie nothing, not even the time of day. Then why did you hire the private detective? she argued with herself.
It was Christmas, for God’s sake, couldn’t Dixie have waited till after the holidays to come around and upset her life? Now everything was different. She thought she was past the anger, past the hurt. She felt dizzy with the thoughts ricocheting in her head.
Ruby sat down; the animals sat next to her. She inhaled the fragrant balsam twined around the banister, her eyes on the six-foot Christmas tree with its twinkling lights. Tears burned her eyes as she stared at the mountains of presents. Not one for Dixie. “Oh, no, I’m not playing that game.”
How long would Dixie sit out there in the snow? She knew the answer. Forever. Ruby didn’t move. Her stomach churned. Why now, after all this time? Dixie must want something. You’re being cruel, Ruby. Open the door. Dixie is like a sister. Better than a sister. You love her. It doesn’t matter what happened before. It’s the now that counts.
Ruby scratched behind Sam’s ears. “I’m not in the life-saving business anymore,” she muttered to the dogs. “I’m fresh out of absolution. You want absolution, go to church.” Her eyes continued to burn. How had Dixie found her way here? Obviously, the private detective had located her.
Fred was on her lap, nuzzling her neck. Number Five was back in the pile of Christmas wrap. He was pooping on a piece of red wrapping paper that said Noel. It was her fault. She hadn’t let the animals out in a while. Maybe she should sic them on Dixie, let them chase her off the property. Grow up, Ruby. Be kind. Forgive whatever you think her sin is. Listen to her. Give her a chance.
Ruby looked at her watch. Twenty minutes had gone by. Dixie hadn’t been dressed too warmly. Ruby gently eased Fred off her lap and walked jerkily to the door. She parted the sheer curtain. Dixie was huddled on the steps. She was covered with snow.
Her face grim, her lips narrowed into a thin, tight line, Ruby yanked the door open. “Okay, I’ll give you ten minutes. I don’t want your death on my conscience.”
Dixie struggled to her feet. Ruby noticed she wasn’t wearing gloves.
Dixie shook herself the way animals did when they were wet. She stomped the snow off her shoes. Stupid shoes. Sling backs with open toes.
Ruby didn’t offer to take her coat, but she said, not unkindly, “Come in by the fire.”
“This is pretty,” Dixie said, looking around. “It smells good, too. You were always big on smells. I’m kind of cold, Ruby. Do you think I could have a cup of coffee or something?”
“All right, b
ut it’s going to eat into your ten minutes,” Ruby muttered.
In the kitchen she poured the coffee, then put it into the microwave to heat it. While she waited she rearranged the lemons. When the coffee was steaming, she added an extra spoon of sugar to it. At the last second she bent down to pick up her slipper-socks by the rocking chair.
“Put these on. When your feet are cold, the rest of you can’t get warm.”
“Thanks, Ruby,” Dixie said gratefully. “Are all these animals yours?”
“Yes. They’re better than some people.” Number Five, the new puppy, was by Dixie’s feet, wiggling and squirming. She was rubbing her belly.
“Let’s cut to the quick, the social part is over. What do you want? I know you want something, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Just for the record. You broke my heart. Now I’m just starting to get it back together, and here you are. As far as I’m concerned, you’re yesterday’s news.”
“I want yesterday back,” Dixie said quietly.
“Well, it’s gone,” Ruby said quietly. “So if there’s nothing more, you should be on your way. You can keep the socks.”
“Ruby, please, I need to talk to you. I want to try and explain ...”
“Now, where have I heard those words before? We don’t have anything to say to one another. You’re just someone I used to know.”
“When did you get so bitter?” Dixie asked quietly.
“When? You have the nerve to ask me that?” Ruby raged. “Why don’t you just kick me in the gut and stomp me to death? I don’t understand. I never understood.”
“I had some problems. I had to handle ... I don’t know. I panicked. I had to run. It was either that, or once again lay everything in your lap, and that just wasn’t fair.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. You aren’t laying this one on me,” Ruby grated as she paced the living room. She was almost dizzy with the scent of the evergreen in her nostrils. “Nobody forces anyone to do anything. You had a free will. You chose to disappear. You chose to cut me off. I don’t want to hear it. It’s over, it’s history. I want to sell you my half of the business, not that there’s much left to sell. Business is down. Those upstarts snapping at Mrs. Sugar’s heels should have been nipped in the bud, but I couldn’t do anything because you weren’t around to agree. What’s their names—Mrs. Field and David? They now have the corner on the cookie business. Now they want to buy us. I was always there for you, Dixie,” Ruby sobbed.
Seasons of Her Life Page 66
