29. Ruby
29
RUBY
After Karl leaves, my mom doesn’t move for a long while like she’s frozen in place by the window, something binding her there in case he comes back.
He doesn’t.
I stay completely still. My pulse is racing, and my breathing is too shallow, but she doesn’t approach the bed. I get an itch in my lower back, and I suck on my bottom lip, trying to ignore it as it spreads across my skin, clamoring for my attention. Just as I think I’m getting it under control, the pain flares in my abdomen again, and I pant through it, praying that she is too preoccupied to notice.
Once it has passed, I open my eyes, and she is gone.
First things first, I slide my hand beneath the covers and around to my back to scratch the tingling skin. The relief is almost instantaneous.
Then, I stare at the ceiling and replay their conversation in my head. Snippets of their voices fading in and out of my head, trying to hear what they were avoiding saying out loud.
They knew each other thirteen years ago, that much was obvious, only I never realized how well they’d known each other. My mom had always made it sound like the friction occurred between Karl Weiss and my dad—she totally downplayed her own role in their problems. And now, she wants to leave my dad for him… That man!
Tears sting my eyes when I think of them together. She doesn’t even care how it will affect my dad because if I don’t marry Harry, I’ll be here to look after him.
Anger swirls around inside my chest, red-hot and bubbling at the way she dismissed my dad’s feelings as if they counted for nothing. All these years she stayed with him when she really wanted to be with another man. I don’t even recognize her anymore. The woman who stood in my room and promised Karl Weiss that she would leave my dad isn’t my mom. She can’t be.
But that isn’t what’s making my heart go slip-sliding around inside my chest. It’s what she said before Karl left and after he issued his ultimatum: “ Ruby must never know that I married the wrong man. She must never find out that I’m in love with you .”
Why did she marry my dad if she didn’t love him? Why live a lie all these years if she was that unhappy?
My thoughts start tumbling into a rabbit-hole that I might never be able to crawl out of. What else don’t I know about her? How many other secrets has she been hiding from me and my dad? Did she know Karl before they even met?
But then, the final piece of the puzzle stabs me in the chest like a knife.
My dad’s stroke wasn’t caused by the stress of losing his business. It was the stress of finding out that his wife was in love with another man. She isn’t trying to protect me with this secret, she’s trying to protect herself.
I can’t stay here and wait for her to come back in the morning. I won’t be able to face her. I won’t be able to look her in the eye ever again and pretend that everything is alright.
I push back the covers and sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The room spins, and I grip the edge of the mattress tightly to stop myself from toppling forwards. My hand stings, dragging me back to reality, and I wrench the cannula of the IV out, tossing it onto the floor. Blood wells on the back of my hand, but I ignore it.
I’m wearing the pajamas that I was wearing when mom brought me into the emergency room. I open the nightstand, hoping to find clothes that will make me look less conspicuous, but I only find clean panties. She didn’t even bring my purse. My coat is on the back of the chair though—it will have to do.
Slipping my arms into it and fastening it over my pajamas, I pull on my boots and tiptoe to the door. I open it a crack, wincing at the clicking sound. Outside, the corridors are dimmed, the hospital dozing for the night.
I hold my breath, step outside, and close the door behind me. Hushed murmurs to my right, a chuckle followed by a question: “What are you wearing to Stacey’s bachelorette party next week?” Must be the nurse’s station.
Left it is.
I stick close to the wall, out of sight of the nurses, my heart hammering inside my chest. I’ve no idea where I’m going. All I know is, I’m not staying. I’m not going to be here when she comes back with her fake smiles and her perfect makeup and her, “I’ll look after you, sweetie.”
“Like fuck you will,” I whisper to myself. My mom has only ever looked after one person: my mom.
Through the swing doors, and I’m in another corridor with a sign that points to the elevators. I can’t risk using them in case a member of the staff gets in on a lower level. I head in the opposite direction to the stairwell, push open the heavy fire door and am greeted by a rush of cold air. It hits my face with a whump at the same time as pain flares inside my abdomen.
I let go of the door, watch it closing slowly, the stairs disappearing behind it. My escape route. Clutching my stomach, I bend double, holding the pain in, focusing on breathing through it. My knees hit the floor, and I don’t even know how it happened, and then the world goes black.
“Ruby… Can you hear me, Ruby?”
A woman’s voice. I push her away and open my eyes, my cheek on the cool tiled floor. “How did I…” I roll onto my knees, try to stand up, but my legs feel like Jell-O, and I lean against the wall for support.
“Ruby, I want to help you.”
I move my eyes, waiting for my head to play ball, and look at the woman who owns the voice. I don’t know her, but I recognize the blue uniform. She’s a nurse. She’s going to stop me from leaving.
“I can manage.” I push myself away from the wall, sway giddily, and instinctively grab her warm hand to keep me upright. “I’m fine.”
“Come with me.” She keeps her voice low, and it seems strange, but I’m still wallowing in the dull ache that follows the pain, and my brain is screaming at me to get away from her.
“I’m not going back.” I tug my hand from hers. “You can’t make me go back.”
She twists her mouth to one side as if preparing to debate that point, sucks in a deep breath, and places an arm around my shoulders before I can dodge her. “Look, I don’t know what has happened tonight, but I won’t take you back to your room. I promise.”
“You w-won’t?” Tears sting my eyes like I just found my guardian angel.
“I want to help you, Ruby.”
“You know my name.”
“Yes. Will you trust me?”
How can I trust her when I don’t even know who she is? She could be a murderer disguised as a nurse. She might go around killing patients and making it look like they died of natural causes or complications with their condition. She might drag me into the stairwell and slit my throat.
But there’s something familiar about her, and I guess she must’ve been looking after me since I was admitted. I’m not afraid of her. I don’t know why, but I believe her.
“I trust you.”
“Thank you.” A glimmer of a familiar smile, gone before it’s fully there. “My name is Melanie.”
Realization spreads through me like a blackcurrant cordial spilt on a white tablecloth. Melanie. Harry’s sister is called Melanie. The smile… It belongs to Harry, not this woman.
“Are you…”
“Shh.” She raises a finger to her lips. “I’ll explain everything later.”
“Where are we going?” I follow her into the chilly stairwell, leaning on her for support, incredulous at how weak I feel.
“I’m taking you home with me.”
Melanie’s apartment is small and cozy. She settles me on the sofa and covers me with a soft, fluffy blanket while she makes hot chocolate. I can see her from the sofa, fetching mugs from the wall cabinet in the kitchen, and spooning cocoa powder into them while the kettle chugs to life.
While she’s busy, I peer around the room. It’s filled with stuff. The sofa and armchair are piled high with cushions. The TV is on a stand filled with VHS tapes. The coffee table and every other available surface is littered with magazines and books, tiny porcelain dogs and cats, and dishes filled with shells and pebbles and sea glass. There’s barely a space that isn’t covered by something, but it also feels like a place in which to relax.
Melanie comes in with two cups, shoves some magazines aside to clear a space on the coffee table, and sets them down. Then she lights a cinnamon scented candle with a match and sits in the armchair, one leg curled underneath her.
It’s quite surreal studying her face, which is Harry’s face but with larger eyes and softer curves. Her hair is all soft waves that tumble over her shoulders now that she has set them free from their ponytail. I have so many questions, but she speaks first.
“Is Harry here? In Chicago, I mean?”
I wince. I remember hearing his voice, but so much of what has happened since I got sick has been nothing more than a hallucination, and I might’ve just imagined it.
“I don’t know.” I chew my bottom lip. How much do I tell her? “He has been looking for you.”
She sips her hot chocolate, blinking as the scalding heat brings tears to her eyes. “He won’t find me. I changed my name … after I left.”
“Why?”
She raises her eyebrows and smiles. “Now, there’s the million-dollar question.”
“We’re getting married. Harry would love it if you came to the wedding.”
She takes a deep breath. I don’t know why she disappeared after their mom died, but there’s a reason why she reached out to help me now, so perhaps I can convince her to come. I must at least try.
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “I haven’t been back to New York since… Well, in a long while.”
“How did you know me?” It’s the question burning a hole in my tongue. I know that she could’ve checked the hospital records, but I sense that I was more than just a name to her, or I wouldn’t be here now.
“I saw Harry after the accident. I wasn’t on his ward, but I saw his name mentioned in the news report and I had to know that he was okay. You were there too. The blizzard?”
I blink. That’s where I recognize her from. “The night nurse.”
She laughs, and she sounds so much like Harry that I can’t help smiling. “Damn! I thought I’d gotten away with it unnoticed.” She pauses. “Call it sibling intuition, but I had a feeling that you were important to my brother. How did you meet?”
I tell her about the skating rink—it feels like years ago now—the party, and the car crash. “I had to know that he was alright too.”
“And you ignored the weather warnings.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I guess I wasn’t going to let a bit of snow stand in the path of true love.”
We talk about Edinburgh and Gretna Green and Harry’s proposal, and I flash the diamond ring at her. “I can’t believe I’ve only known him for a few weeks. It feels like he’s always been in my life.”
“I’m glad. He’s a good boy.”
“Spoken like a true big sis.”
She laughs again, but I can’t hear it through the pain. I see the way her eyes widen, and then she’s on her knees on the floor beside the couch, and squeezing my hand, and I can hear her telling me to breathe. “That’s it, Ruby, deep breath in through your nose. Good girl.” I cling to her voice and her hand while my stomach feels like it’s going to explode.
Finally, the pain ebbs, and she tells me to hold tight while she fetches a glass of water from the kitchen. I sip it slowly, hand trembling, tracking the chill as it goes down.
“How are you feeling?” Her eyes roam my face, noting the sweat on my forehead even though I’m shivering.
“Better.”
Her expression doesn’t alter. She knows I’m lying, she’s a nurse.
“What’s wrong with me?” My voice, laced with tears, sounds puny.
“I’ve seen your test results, Ruby. Looking out for you was the least I could do for my brother after leaving him behind,” she explains.
When she doesn’t elaborate, I ask, “Am I pregnant?”
“No.” She reaches for my hand and nestles it between her own warm palms. “Your symptoms were a little like food poisoning. Can you remember eating something that might have triggered it?”
I rummage around inside my memories of the past couple of days, the meal that got scrapped, the hot dogs Harry and I picked up on our way back to his hotel. I can’t even recall what I’ve eaten since then.
“Hot dogs. But we both ate them, and Harry didn’t get sick.”
Melanie shakes her head. “Not that. Have you drunk water that might’ve been contaminated? Or eaten rice or shellfish that wasn’t washed properly?” When I say no, she continues, “What about pesticides? Have you come into contact with weedkillers or been inside a building that had been sprayed with some kind of insecticide?”
I shake my head, confused. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t want you to panic, Ruby, but your test results came back showing traces of a compound linked to arsenic.”