10. Harry
10
HARRY
I watch the footage again later that evening on the news report.
I’m alone in my apartment, still wearing my suit pants, white shirt, no tie, with my feet up on the glass-topped coffee table, and a brandy and soda in my hand. It has been a strange day. One of tears and laughter, of stories—old and new—and memories shared of Alessandro.
Carlos Russo hardly left my side. He was like the big brother I never had, my shadow, keeping an eye on me to make sure that I didn’t overdo it. I’d spoken to the family about the accident. I didn’t need to tell them that Alessandro had been drinking before he climbed into the driver’s seat of his car—it had shown up in the postmortem results. But rather than guilt-tripping me over allowing him to drive, they said that I shouldn’t have gotten in the car with him.
I wish I had answers for them. I wish I could tell them what had triggered his strange mood that day, but we’ll never know, and it will always come back to haunt me because I was the one who encouraged him to take Ruby out for dinner.
I sip my brandy—my first drink since I was discharged from hospital—and feel the burn as it travels down inside my body. Today, the ache of loss for my friend has overtaken the ache I feel in my chest for Ruby, but already her image is sneaking back into the spotlight. Her smile. Her huge green eyes. The way she looked with her hair tousled around her face when she straddled me on the hospital bed.
The stirring inside me isn’t purely sexual. It goes way deeper than that, although I want Ruby more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman. It’s a connection that refuses to be severed.
In Greek mythology, humans originally had four arms, four legs, and two faces—two people in one human form. Zeus, out of either fear or rage, split humans into two, and tasked them with spending their lifetime trying to find their other half. It’s a bizarre story, one that I would’ve scoffed at in the past, only now I can believe it.
Because I believe that I have found my other half.
On the TV screen, I leave the church with Ronnie and Pete. Camera crews and reporters line the street, hoping to capture the Russo family’s grief and enough celebrity images to sell a few magazines. I watch myself blinking at the cameras, overwhelmed by the insensitivity of it all, and then Alessandro’s younger sister Alicia appears from nowhere and kisses me on the lips.
I sit forward, sloshing brandy over my wrist and onto the floor.
That wasn’t how it happened.
I know what I’ve just witnessed, but that wasn’t what happened outside the church. Alicia came over to ask me if I was okay. There was too much going on, too many people in the crowd calling out and jostling to get close to Tom Cruise, no doubt in the hopes of getting his autograph. Alicia leaned closer and murmured into my ear so that I would hear her.
But the press made it look as if she kissed me. A full-on, lip-tingling, knee-jerking kiss on the lips. Why did they even need to show this shit? Someone fucking died, and there they are cashing in on people’s tears.
Anger pulses through me, and I down the brandy, the burn no longer touching the sides. I know that this is what sells stories, but jeez, not at the expense of someone’s funeral.
I stand up too quickly, my head swimming from the alcohol, and pour myself another shot. No soda.
I’m still trying to figure out how they managed to make it look like a kiss, when I’ve known Alicia since she was a little girl. It’s quite a skill. Then it dawns on me like a blow to the gut, that Ruby might’ve been watching the same news report.
Shit!
What if she thinks that there’s something going on between me and Alicia? What if Ruby thinks that I was messing around when I asked her to marry me? She’ll have seen this footage and convinced herself that I was lying in the heat of the moment and now that I’m home, I’m relieved that she didn’t take me up on my proposal.
I down my brandy and almost choke on it, coughing and spluttering, my head suddenly pounding with a combination of stress and booze.
What should I do now?
Ruby obviously didn’t want to see me again after she left the hospital, but I can’t sit back and let this ride. I don’t want her to think that I lied. I don’t want her to think that I’m like every other guy she’s probably met before, sweet-talking her to get what I want.
But more importantly, I still want to marry her.
I’m determined to marry her.
There’s only one thing I can do, I quickly realize. Tell her the truth, face-to-face, tell her how I feel, and remind her of her promise.
In my bedroom, I chuck some clothes into a small suitcase, grab my jacket and my wallet, and switch off the lights as I leave my apartment.
I’m going to Chicago.
I didn’t think this through.
There are no flights until the following morning. So, I spend the night hugging my jacket around my chest, curled up on a row of seats in the first-class lounge area, with a travel pillow under my head, wondering why I was so adamant that a private jet was an extravagance I could do without.
I don’t sleep. I don’t know what Ruby will say, or if she’ll even want to see me.
And I can’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to see me either.
Five minutes. That’s all I want: five minutes to explain my version of events and tell her that I can’t stop thinking about her, that I wish I was still in hospital, in the middle of the worst blizzard in a decade, with her easy smile and her insatiable appetite for chocolate.
I remember where Ruby lives. The cab drops me off outside her house, and I drag my suitcase along the front path, my heart hammering against my ribcage.
Everything I’ve thought about during the flight, all the opening conversation lines I’ve rehearsed, trying to preempt her responses, vanish the closer I get to Ruby’s front door. My palms are sweating despite the bitter chill in the air. My mouth is dry.
I knock on the door and wait, peering around at the neighboring houses.
Eventually, the door is opened by a man wearing loose khaki pants and a Fair Isle sweater, leaning heavily on a cane. Recognition dances behind his eyes, and he reaches out a hand to shake mine. “Harry?”
“Yes.” His handshake is still firm, and for some reason, this makes me happy. “Is Ruby home?”
“She’s working at the library today.” He stands aside and opens the door wider. “Come in. She never said that you were coming.”
I step inside and the nerves seem to drain away as he closes the door behind me. “She doesn’t know. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“Sometimes, it’s the only way to go about things. Don’t give yourself a chance to change your mind.”
He leads the way along the corridor to the kitchen that’s painted in bold shades of ochre and sunflower yellow. The room is bright, vibrant, and warm, and I imagine that, in the summer, it’s on fire with the sunlight streaming through the windows. I notice a gold-tasseled cushion on one of the windowsills and immediately picture Ruby sitting there reading a book in the winter when the oven is on and the room is cozy.
Ruby’s dad fills the kettle and switches it on to boil. “I’m Graham,” he says, and his smile is Ruby’s. “How do you take your coffee?”
I tell him I take it with a dash of cream and three spoons of sugar, and he gestures for me to take a seat at the worn pine table in the middle of the room.
I already like Graham. He hasn’t asked why I’m here. He isn’t probing for my intentions regarding his daughter, and he didn’t slam the door in my face. The anger must belong solely to his wife.
He carries our coffees to the table, one at a time, and sits facing me, propping his walking stick up against the edge. The house is cozy, comfortable, a home that has soaked up the personalities of the inhabitants.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, finally. “Maybe now, Ruby will start smiling again.” He doesn’t seem to expect a response, so I keep quiet. “She likes you; you know.”
I can’t contain my own smile. A wave of emotions battles with the tiredness crashing through my head, and I choke back tears. I didn’t know what to think when I didn’t hear from Ruby again. My thoughts scrambled between thinking that I’d pushed her too far and fearing that her mom had convinced her to stay away from me.
Standing outside the house, I’d fought the overwhelming urge to turn around and head straight back to the airport, but I understand now that this was my only option. This is me trying to win the girl I love. And now that I’m here…
“I’m going to marry Ruby.”
Graham doesn’t even seem surprised. “I’d have been more concerned if you’d said you wanted to marry her. Wanting to marry her would’ve implied that there’s a chance it might not happen.”
“I’ve already proposed to her. Twice. She thinks it was the pain meds talking.”
Again, no shock registers on Graham’s face. “Are you sure about that?”
My brain takes a couple of beats to process his question. “I scared her off, didn’t I? It was too much, too soon. I should’ve given her time to?—”
Graham makes a wave motion with his hands for me to stop panicking. “You did what felt right at the time—it’s all any of us can do. Have you ever heard the saying, what’s for you won’t go by you ?” I shake my head. “I think you have to trust that fate knows what it’s doing.”
Ruby talked about her dad a lot when we were snowed in at the hospital, but nothing she said could ever have done this man justice. Life served him a bum deal, but it hasn’t kept him down. It hasn’t destroyed his spirit, the same fighting spirit that I see in his daughter.
We’re sitting in the cozy den with the huge window overlooking the backyard where the trees are still wearing their Christmas-card-worthy snow hats when Ruby comes home.
She freezes when she sees me sitting in the armchair with a mug of coffee in my hands. “Harry? How did you…? What are you doing here?”
Her eyes widen with surprise and then narrow like she has been pranked, and I know that she saw the kiss on national TV.
“I wanted to explain… In person.” I stand up, set the cup down on the coffee table, and try to take her hands, but she pulls away and turns an accusatory glare on her dad.
“Did you organize this?”
Graham raises both hands, palms facing outwards, in a gesture of surrender. “Nothing to do with me. I’m just the doorman.”
Ruby swallows. “I think you should leave.”
“Not until I’ve had a chance to explain.”
“Hear the man out, Ruby,” Graham says.
She goes to leave the room, a sigh of exasperation escaping her lips, and this time I don’t let her snatch her hands away.
“What you saw on TV—that isn’t what happened. I’ve known Alicia since she was at school. The crowd was loud. She wanted to ask me if I was okay, but I couldn’t hear her. I know how it looked, Ruby, but I promise you that there isn’t, and never has been, anything between me and Alessandro’s little sister.” I pause. “That’s why I’m here. I caught the first flight out of New York this morning.”
I’m running out of steam, a night spent in an airport catching up on me. But at least I’ve said what I came to say. If it isn’t enough…
She turns around to face me. “That’s what you came to tell me?” I can’t read her tone, but I’m certain that I can see amusement in her eyes, and my pulse picks up speed.
“When I watched the news report last night, I saw how it looked and I… Well, I panicked.”
A smile tugs her lips upwards, and her entire face lights up, skittering butterflies around inside my chest at the same time. Ruby moves closer. She stands on tiptoes and kisses my cheek, her lips barely graze my skin, and I’m immediately transported back to the hospital room.
I wonder if this is how it’s always going to be. If every kiss, every touch, every conversation is going to whizz me back to where it all began. If so, I can live with that.
“Don’t they have phones in New York?”
I can’t help returning her smile. “Who needs phones when you can catch a plane?”
“Are you hungry? Has my dad fed you?”
“Of course I have,” Graham says.
Ruby hesitates, and I sense every nuance of her mood, the uncertainty, the frisson of delight, the anticipation of what’s to come next. She believes me. She is happy that I came. But something is still bothering her.
“Maybe we should go into town and grab a pizza or something.” She widens her eyes briefly in her dad’s direction.
Graham nods. “I’ll tell your mom that you met up with an old friend.”
That’s what’s worrying her. She doesn’t want her mom to find me here.
Before either of us can move, the front door opens, and Celia Jackson comes in, stomping her feet on the mat in the hallway, keys jangling, and perfume heralding her arrival.
Too late.
“Ruby, why haven’t you started dinner? I finished early. The salon was dead again today.” Celia enters the den and freezes when her gaze drifts from her daughter to me. “What’s he doing here?” Her tone is like ice.
“He came to see Ruby.” Graham grabs his cane and stands awkwardly, knuckles white around the handle. “They’re just on their way out.”
“Oh no.” Celia shakes her head. “Ruby is going nowhere with him. Get out.” This is aimed at me.
“Ma’am, I came to talk to Ruby.” I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong, but I’m not leaving until it’s sorted. I don’t want to make an enemy of my future mother-in-law, but if that’s the way she wants to play this, I can guarantee that it will be her loss.
Celia folds her arms across her chest. “I said get out. I don’t want you in my house. I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter.”
“Ma’am, I promise you that nothing happened?—”
Ruby stands in front of me, forming a barrier between me and her mom. “If he leaves, Mom, I’m going with him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ruby. You’re going nowhere.”
“I’m sorry you feel I’m being ridiculous, Mom,” Ruby’s voice is calm and steady, “but I mean it. I’m going to get my bag, and I’m leaving with Harry. I’ll come back when you’re ready to accept that I’m twenty-one. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”
“I-I…” Celia splutters. “You’re making a huge mistake, Ruby.”
“Then I’ll hold my hands up and own my mistakes.” Ruby entwines her fingers with mine. “Ready?”
“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” Celia snaps.
Ruby tugs me out of the den and doesn’t even glance over her shoulder. She grabs a backpack from her room, and heads toward the front door.
Before we leave, I hear Graham say, “Let them go. This is her life, Celia. Let her go live it.”