Ruby's Letters

by Maggie Van Well

  Turning back to Ryan, Emma understood the concern in her brother’s voice. The G.C. was visibly shaking, and his face resembled a white mask.

  She ran to his side, taking his hand. “What’s wrong?”

  He squeezed her hand so tightly she swore she heard bones crack. “Why is that plane so low?”

  Emma glanced at Frankie, but he seemed as confused as she was.

  “I assume it has something to do with the high winds.”

  Ryan threw each of them a quick glance before laughing self-consciously. He loosened his death grip on Emma’s hand and dropped it altogether. “Sorry, it took me by surprise.”

  Frankie chuckled, but Emma didn’t buy it.

  “I’d better get going.” Frankie checked his watch. “I have a late appointment in The Village.” He kissed Emma’s cheek and walked backward up the block. “Oh, by the way, Emma, you might want to check the cap on the chimney that goes to the kitchen. The wind is blowing so hard it may have loosened it.”

  “Will do.” She waved and turned to Ryan. “Do me a favor? Come up to the roof.”

  She started up the front steps but stopped halfway when she realized Ryan hadn’t followed. She stared at him in confusion.

  “Why do I need to go up to the roof with you?”

  “Because I want to check on that cap, and I need to talk to you where I won’t have to shout and be overheard.”

  He took two steps toward her. What was with him? He acted as if she’d asked him to go to the broom cupboard with her. “Would you rather wait here until I’m done?”

  His pose stiffened, and he raised his chin. “Does it have anything to do with what we talked to Betsy about yesterday?”

  She scanned the area and then nodded. Ryan finally put his feet into motion.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I SWEAR, if I could kill you again, I would!”

  Ruby dismissed Hilary’s words with a wave of her hand. “Oh, come now, Hil, your threats mean nothing to me.”

  “Why did you make that symbol in the mirror above my fireplace? I demand to know!”

  Ruby simply smiled. “I have my reasons.”

  Hilary glared at her. Even in death Hilary had the ability to send shivers down what used to be Ruby’s spine. The woman had triumphed over her in life, but she would not succeed in death.

  Hilary was the first to look away. “Emma is a foolish girl. She should have stayed away.”

  “No, she is brave. And she’ll be damned if she’s going to let some angry ghost keep her away from her job.”

  Hilary grinned, a purely evil grin. “Ryan isn’t so brave.”

  Ruby wouldn’t let Hilary see her concern. “He is growing stronger by the day. Just being with Emma has done that for him. You saw how he took her side when they had that talk with Betsy.”

  Hilary turned on her, her gaze penetrating. “Betsy? That’s rather informal for someone you don’t even know.”

  This time it was Ruby who was first to break eye contact, her fists clenched. Floating around the room as nonchalantly as she could, she shrugged her filmy shoulders. “People are not so formal nowadays.”

  Hilary’s eyes narrowed. “Something tells me there’s more to it than that, but right now, I have other things to ponder.”

  Ruby hovered by the door. “Like what?”

  Hilary placed a bony finger against her chin, thinking. “Like how to get Ryan to leave and never come back.”

  ***

  After grabbing a flathead screwdriver, Emma led Ryan upstairs. Neither spoke until they stepped up onto the roof.

  The wind was still a tad strong. The sun was on its downward swing but still warmed her face. The smell of heated tar cautioned her to watch where she stepped.

  Taking a few minutes to admire the view, Emma followed the line of the Brooklyn Bridge to lower Manhattan. The Statue of Liberty was off in the distance, facing New Jersey. She should come up here at night. The view would be even more spectacular then.

  “What did you want to talk about?”

  The urgency in his voice tore her focus away from the statue. “Are you okay? Let’s go. I can do this later.”

  Ryan squared his shoulders. “No, get the cap done.”

  Emma paused a moment and then walked to the chimney. No sense in arguing. It would only waste time. She pulled the screwdriver from her back pocket and began to tighten the loose bolts. “Something odd happened when I was showing my brother the work we’d done in the master bedroom.”

  She explained about the mirror.

  “Are you sure it was a bull’s-eye?” Ryan asked, his voice reflecting disbelief.

  “I think I know what a bull’s-eye looks like.”

  He paced as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Should we wait until everyone leaves before we—”

  Slam!

  Emma had never seen someone jump a full foot in the air until that very moment.

  Ryan swallowed hard. “What was that?”

  Emma returned to the bolts, trying to hurry. “The wind blew the hatch closed.” Ryan’s silence made her glance at him. He stood in the corner of the roof, hugged against the building. Even from a few feet away, she could see he’d broken out in a sweat, his shoulders heaving. “Ryan?”

  “That wasn’t the wind.”

  “What do you think it was?”

  He gulped. His shaky hands brushed the sweat from his forehead. “Em, would you check to make sure it’ll open?”

  She made her way to the hatch and grabbed onto the handle, but somehow she knew it wouldn’t budge. Ryan must’ve known that too. She tugged anyway. The hatch remained shut.

  “It’s stuck.”

  Ryan’s body quaked, and his knees buckled. He slid down the wall, all color leaving his face.

  Ryan, cowering in a corner. It wasn’t exactly what she had seen earlier, but it was close.

  Oh, God. What’s happening?

  She rushed over to him. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

  Ryan, always so strong and powerful, was like a frightened child, his hands locked in his hair, his face hiding in his knees.

  A siren sounded. Birds circled them. Another plane flew overhead.

  His teeth chattered. “Please, Emma, get it open!”

  Frightened, she rushed back to the hatch. She tugged and pulled and used the screwdriver, trying to pry it free, but it was no use. She banged and shouted for help, but with the loud music and sawing, she doubted anyone heard.

  Forcing a calmness she didn’t feel, she rejoined Ryan and squatted on her haunches before him. She needed to be cool to stop him from panicking further, which is exactly what he was doing. She had to get him talking, get his mind off the situation. “The hatch won’t open. I guess the ghosts are playing again.”

  “I can’t—can’t stay up here.”

  “I think it’s time you and I had a little talk.”

  He shook his head furiously, “No, please, Em.”

  Taking his face in her hands, she made him look at her. “It’s okay, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Our little pranksters have seen to that.”

  His eyes pleaded with her, and then he closed them and pulled his face away, turning it into the wall. His hand clawed at the brick behind him. “It was the most horrible day of my life.”

  Fearing he would dig into the wall until his fingers bled, she took his hand in hers and sat down next to him. “Tell me.”

  “I was working on a building in Manhattan.” Jerking away, he wiped away unshed tears with shaky fingers. “The superintendent and I were friends. We’d have coffee together every morning and watch the news on TV. That particular day he asked if I’d go up to the roof and find out why it leaked.” He ran his hands up his arms, as if he was suddenly cold.

  “I went up and quickly found the problem. I tried to get down, but I’d let the door shut without unlocking it first.”

  Emma knew what he was about to say. He’d been locked up on a roof and panicked. Everyone in her profess
ional had been stuck somewhere at one time or another, although rarely for long. Ryan had probably been left there for hours, the poor guy. She didn’t say anything. Instead, she encouraged him to go on with a soothing smile.

  He stared out over the skyline of New York City, the sun’s rays descending on the buildings of mid-town. He grimaced, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  “I tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. If only I had brought a screwdriver with me or a chisel, a hammer, my cell phone, anything! But all I had was a ballpoint pen, a bandana, and a carpenter’s pencil in my back pocket.” He voice grew softer, harsher, until she could barely hear him.

  “I tried banging, called for help, but I knew it was an exercise in futility. I was annoyed with myself, I should’ve known better, but I wasn’t worried. People get locked up on roofs all the time. Someone would eventually realize I was taking too long and come up to get me. So I made myself comfortable on one of the lounge chairs and thanked God I never got the chance to drink the coffee that was growing cold on the super’s desk.”

  He stopped talking, his face as pale as a corpse drenched in moonlight.

  As she listened to his tale, she couldn’t help but think he was over-reacting. Then she remembered Ryan didn’t act like this. He couldn’t catch his breath. There was something he wasn’t telling her. She put a hand on his arm and rubbed it gently. “How horrible it must’ve been for you.”

  The nod he gave was so slight she almost missed it. “I was up there for twelve hours.”

  Emma stiffened. No wonder the man was freaking out. “Twelve hours! Were they playing some kind of joke?”

  “No, they forgot about me. They left me.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Her lips tensed, furious with men she’d never met. “That’s not how things work on a job site. They can joke about with you, humiliate you, torture you, but no one ever leaves you. How could they forget you were up on the roof?”

  For the first time, he looked at her. His eyes were haunted, as if reflecting a film of the horrors they had witnessed.

  “Because at 8:46 the first plane hit.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  FOR A MOMENT, Emma thought one of their ghosts had floated through the ceiling to the roof and punched her in the gut.

  Of all the things she’d expected him to say, she never expected this.

  She couldn’t see his face. He had it hidden from her, but she knew without seeing how full of angst he must be. There were so many questions, so many comments, so many condolences, but there was only one thing she wanted to know at that very moment.

  “Ryan.” She hesitated, fearing his answer. It showed in her hoarse voice. “Where were you that day?”

  He looked over toward the city. “On a rooftop near Trinity Church.”

  Emma lowered her head into her hands and let the tears come. He couldn’t have been much closer without being inside the World Trade Center itself.

  He stared off into space, as if momentarily stunned. “I swear there were times I could feel the heat from the fire on my face.”

  “Oh, God.”

  His brow furrowed. “I remember paper. Lots and lots of flying paper. Smoke. So much smoke. And…” Rocking back and forth, he balled his hands into fists and pushed them against his eyes. Hard. “I didn’t dare go to the edge of the roof and look down. But I could hear them. Falling.”

  Emma gripped his hand. It felt so cold. She needed to say something, but all she could choke out was “I’m sorry.”

  “Then the sirens came. Those poor firefighters, police, and EMTs…I didn’t want to see what they were seeing.”

  Shaking his head, running his fingers through his hair, gripping onto the strands so hard she thought he might tear them from his scalp. “When the south tower started crumbling, I just couldn’t believe it. It was so surreal. The noise was thunderous. The dust cloud engulfed me. Even with the rag over my nose and mouth, I couldn’t breathe. It covered me like a blanket. I felt so guilty, praying to God I wouldn’t suffocate when all the people in that building had just died.”

  Her hands weren’t fast enough to catch all the tears streaming down her face. She didn’t want to hear anymore, she couldn’t, but she had to. He needed her, and she had to be brave for him. “God, Ryan, what it must’ve been like.”

  “That was only the beginning.”

  “Yes, you watched the second tower fall.” How awful for him, living through that horror, knowing he’d have to do it again.

  He shook his head, his shoulders trembling from suppressed sobs. He pushed himself into the corner of the building, rolling his body up tight. Emma gasped from the strong sense of déjà vu, but she didn’t have time to freak out about it. Ryan needed her.

  That was all that mattered at the moment.

  She crawled over, kneeling in front of him. “Ryan—”

  “I felt so helpless. I was stuck. I couldn’t get down, and hiding my eyes didn’t block out the noise and the smell. But then I remembered. A voicemail from the night before. He wasn’t supposed to be there, Em, he wasn’t, but he had a meeting that morning.”

  She shook her head in confusion. “You’re not making any sense.”

  His white-knuckled hands gripped his knees tight, trying to pull them closer still. “I remembered just as the second building started to collapse.”

  She put her hands over his. “I don’t understand. Remembered what?”

  He opened his mouth and forced the words out. “As I watched the north tower fall, I watched my brother die.”

  Emma heaved. “He was in the tower.”

  “He was a chef for the restaurant at the top of the north tower. He wasn’t supposed to be there until later in the day, but they had a meeting that morning. Some days the only thing that keeps me going is the hope he had already passed on before the building was lost.”

  Pulling a rag from her back pocket, Emma handed it to him. He mopped his face, but he didn’t look at her. “I prayed and pleaded he was late or he was stuck in traffic. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t.”

  She wrapped him in her arms, knowing it must be killing him that he’d broken down in front of her. She hated to think it, but she was glad he had. She felt closer to him, understood him a little better.

  He clutched her, still shaking. “I miss him so much, Emma.”

  She had no words to comfort him. Just imagining her life without Frankie had her gasping for air. All she could do was hug him tighter.

  “I hate the man I am now. I want to be the man I was.”

  She stroked his hair. “Tell me about that man.”

  “He laughed…so much. Took chances. Extreme sports. He fell in love.” Ryan took two deep breaths. “Now I’m afraid to do any of it.”

  “You can be the man you used to be.” She pulled away slightly, wanting him to see the determination on her face. “I know you can.”

  His eyes were bloodshot, his nose red, his face pale, but still, God help her, he was the sexiest man alive.

  When he pulled her lips against his, he did it with an urgency that shocked her. His kiss was not sexual, more like an attempt to pull strength from her, asking if she would freely give it.

  Nothing on earth could’ve convinced her to deny him.

  He cupped her face, brushing tiny kisses across her lips. “I wish I was like you, Em. You’re strong and brave. It’s probably why I was such a jerk to you when we first met. I was jealous of the strength I saw in you. If you’d been up on that rooftop, you wouldn’t have let it get you down. You wouldn’t have nightmares that made you so afraid you never wanted to go back to sleep.”

  She pulled away, shaking her head, her voice high with emotion. “Don’t, Ryan. I have no idea how I would’ve reacted. Don’t sanctify me.”

  His red-rimmed eyes bored into hers as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Emma, I—”

  The banging of the roof hatch flying open cut him off in mid-sentence. Startled, they both turned toward the hatch. Still a few hour
s before dusk, the sun’s rays fanned out over the city and sank toward the horizon, so close, she felt as if she could reach out and grab one.

  But then, starting from the bottom and moving outward, the rays slowly turned from gold to a lovely blue.

  Rising to his feet, Ryan took her hand and pulled her up. They inched toward the opening. Floating inside the sun’s reflection was a tiny woman. She had pixyish features, her hair piled high on her head. She was wrapped in a worn dark shawl and wore a nineteenth century dress. She pointed at the hatch, smiling. A feeling of love engulfed Emma.

  She squeezed Ryan’s hand. “You see her?”

  “Yeah.” He appeared as moved as she.

  As they stared at the ghostly apparition, it held out a transparent hand toward Emma. On impulse, she reached for it, but Ryan pulled her back.

  “No! What if she’s the one who hates you?”

  “She’s not. I know she’s not.”

  He gripped tighter, as if afraid to let her go, and Emma touched the ghost. Her hand grew cold from the contact, but in contrast, a warm glow spread throughout her body. For one second, the Lady in the Shawl tugged her toward the hatch before disappearing from sight.

  Ryan let her hand drop. “I’m guessing she wants us to go.”

  “Yes.”

  “Em…”

  She turned to face him. His head was down, hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Emma threw her arms around him. He stiffened and didn’t hug her back. “You never have to say that to me again.”

  He nodded and stepped back.

  Hurt melted over her, but she wouldn’t let him see it. “Unless you screw up or piss me off.”

  “That should last about a day.” Well, at least she’d gotten a grin out of him.

  “Come on.” She playfully punched his arm. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to find out what’s going on with that mirror.”

  ***

  Humiliation, fear, and a tiny bit of gratitude battled inside Ryan as he followed Emma off the roof.

  God, he hated himself right now.

  He was humiliated that she’d seen him lose it, hated that she knew how much of a coward he was, and terrified that, if it hadn’t been for a ghost, he would’ve told Emma he loved her.