Chapter 9
The Dead Parents Card
? She Calls Me Back - Noah Kahan ft. Kacey Musgraves
Ruby
“Ruby?”
I startle and glance up from my guitar, pen still sticking out of my mouth.
A pajama-clad Aiden is standing in the doorway to the music room, but I was so locked in that I didn’t hear him approach.
I’ve been living here for a week now, and I’m still getting used to having other people around, but Aiden is always a welcome distraction.
I toss the pen and notebook onto the coffee table. “What’s up, little dude?”
He’s clinging to a faded green fleece blanket that looks like it’s seen better days as he chews on the inside of his cheek.
I smile, lean my guitar against the sofa, and pat the seat next to me. “Come here.”
He doesn’t hesitate, his small form sinking into the brown leather couch.
“Is there something you need?” I ask.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Liam’s looming figure step into the doorway, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest, but Aiden must not notice him standing there.
“It’s stupid,” Aiden says, eyes downcast.
“You can tell me anything. Pinky promise.” I hold up my hand between us, pinky finger up.
He cocks his head to the side, his brow furrowed. “What’s a pinky promise?”
I take his hand and show him how to do it, wrapping his little finger around mine.
“My big brother and I used to make pinky promises all the time. It’s practically unbreakable.
It can be for whatever you want, but right now, it means you can tell me anything.
I promise to listen with an open heart, no matter what, ok? ”
He releases my hand. “Tomorrow is Muffins with Mom day at school.” He tugs on a thread hanging off his blanket. “I’m the only one in my class that… I was thinking maybe…”
His chin wobbles, and my heart gives an involuntary squeeze. This poor kid has been through so much in his short life. If I ever get my hands on his piece of shit mother, she’ll regret the day she crossed my path.
I wrap my arm around his shoulder.. “Do you want me to go? I know I’m not your mom, but I do like muffins.”
“You do?”
“Hell yeah, I do! What’s not to love? Chocolate chip is my favorite!”
“Me too!” A smile stretches across his whole face, and he throws his arms around my neck. “Thanks, Ruby. It’s gonna be so much fun!”
I laugh and return his hug, ruffling his hair. “Anytime, little dude.”
The floor creaks as Liam steps into the room. “Time for bed, Aiden.”
Aiden kisses my cheek, catching me off guard. “‘Night.”
“Goodnight.”
As Aiden passes through the doorway, Liam’s lips tip up at the corner in what I think is an attempt at a smile. Hard to say. “You just made his whole year.”
I shrug. “Aiden’s a great kid. It’s not a hardship to spend time with him.”
Liam lets out a huff of air. “Tell that to Breanna.”
“I can confidently say fuck Breanna.”
He nods. “Seriously. Thank you. You have no idea how much he’s been dreading tomorrow. It means the world to him that you’ll be there.”
“Anything for Aiden.”
And you.
I pull up outside Oak Ridge Elementary with five minutes to spare. There’s a line forming in the entrance where an attendant is checking ID before letting people in, and I spot Ivy in an instant.
“Hey, girl,” she says. “What are you doing here?”
“Aiden asked me to come, and I never turn down snacks.” In true Ruby fashion, I use humor to make light of things.
She lets out a forced laugh. “Sweet boy. I was going to stop by when I finished up with Rylin, but I guess I don’t need to.”
I shake my head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve got him.”
She hands her ID to the teacher at the desk and signs her name on the clipboard. The attendant gives her a visitor sticker and she pats it onto her chest. “I’ll see you around. Have fun.”
It’s my turn to check in, and the second I introduce myself, the teacher’s eyes bug out of her head. “Ruby Lynn Hayes. Wh-what are you doing here?”
Have I mentioned how much I hate it when people use my full name? Sure, it’s my legal name, but it’s played out. Sometimes I wish I’d picked a stage name so I could keep my personal life separate.
“I’m here for Aiden Murphy. He’s my… stepson.” I probably could’ve said I’m his nanny, but I don’t want to risk them not letting me in. The thought of being Aiden’s stepmom isn’t so bad, either.
I hear a snort behind me and come face to face with none other than Missy McBitchface herself. “You and Liam Murphy? Please.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Planting my hand on my hip, I pin her with a glare.
“Liam Murphy would never be with someone like you.”
“You sound jealous, Missy. Your husband not doing it for you anymore?”
Her nostrils flare, and she takes one slow step toward me. “You were always so full of yourself. Tell me, does Connor know you’re throwing yourself at his brother?”
“Does your husband know you’re cheating on him with your daughter’s swim coach?”
Her face pales, and she retreats.
“What? You didn’t think it was a secret, did you?
I suggest you make sure your own shit doesn’t stink to high heaven before you try to come for me.
” I hand my ID to the teacher and sign the paper next to Aiden’s name, take one of the visitor stickers, and stride away from the scene without looking back.
When I walk into the classroom, Aiden rushes over and grabs my hand, dragging me to one of the small tables that seats six.
I sit down in a flimsy plastic chair, praying it doesn’t give out under me.
They look like they can barely hold the kids, let alone a full-grown adult.
I swear, a fat babe’s biggest fear is a poorly made chair.
There’s a light buffet set up on top of the bookshelves near the window with a platter of fresh fruit, a variety of muffins, and a stack of paper plates and napkins.
Each table is covered with a pink tablecloth, and there’s a simple mason jar of artificial flowers in the center.
The room hasn’t changed since I was here over twenty years ago, but it feels smaller now that I’m seeing it through the eyes of a grown ass woman.
Mrs. Thompson smiles at me. She must be close to retiring by now. She’s wearing one of her signature knit vests, this time with crayons along the bottom. It’s nice to know some things never change.
“Mrs. Thompson, this is Ruby,” Aiden says. “She’s my favorite.”
“Aww. Thanks, little dude. You’re my favorite, too.”
“What about my dad?”
I lean in conspiratorially, cupping my hand over my mouth like I’m about to let him in on some big secret. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I like you the most.”
He laughs, and I can’t help but smile back at him. “Mrs. Thompson was my third-grade teacher, too.”
“Really?” He glances back and forth between us, eyes wide.
She nods. “I knew this sweet girl when she was just a tiny thing. She used to hum a little tune while she was working.”
“I did not.”
“Oh yes, you did.” She squeezes my shoulder. “It’s good to see you. We’re all so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”
I stand and wrap her in a hug. “Thank you.”
“I should make the rounds, but help yourselves to some muffins. We’ll be doing a craft together soon.”
As more parents file in, I notice some quiet whispers and pointed fingers.
The little girl sitting beside Aiden leans in and, in a mocking tone, asks, “Is Ruby Lynn Hayes your mom? I thought you didn’t have a mom.”
Aiden’s expression morphs from excitement to dejection.
Ever the fixer, I glare at the child’s mom, but she’s too busy with her phone to take notice. Changing tactics, I turn my attention to the bully. “Maybe if your mom actually paid attention to you, you wouldn’t have to spend your time being a mean girl.”
There’s an audible gasp and the entire room quiets.
“What did you just say to my daughter?”
“Oh, so you were paying attention. Then you must’ve heard what she said to Aiden.”
“So what? Kids will be kids.”
“What the f—” I shake my head. “Is that how you justify bullying?”
She rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue. “It’s not that serious.”
I scan the room in search of Mrs. Thompson, but she’s nowhere to be seen, and we’ve got an audience. I stand. “You know what, while I have all of you here, listen up.”
“That’s Ruby Lynn Hayes.”
“Oh my god.”
“I didn’t know she had a kid.”
Clearing my throat, I continue. “ If I so much as hear a whisper of anyone bullying Aiden again, I will personally make your lives a waking nightmare.”
Aiden's eyes are wide, and he’s looking at me like I’m his savior.
I grasp his hand. “Aiden is the best kid, and if you got to know him, you’d think so, too.
You’re all too busy judging him for things he can’t control.
Anybody would be lucky to have Aiden as a friend.
I’m lucky to call Aiden my bestie. So, if you have a problem with him, you have a problem with me. ”
There’s an awkward round of applause from some of the adults. I do a self-deprecating curtsy and return to my seat at the too-small table.
“Sorry, Aiden,” Mean Girl says. She slides a pack of crayons across the table, looking suitably chastised, and her bitch of a mother returns her attention to her phone.
Mrs. Thompson walks back into the room, having missed the entire display. She claps once. “Ok. Where were we?”
Liam
“You should’ve seen it, Dad! Ruby was all ‘Aiden is my bestie,’ and everybody clapped.”
I glance at Ruby across the sofa. “Is that so?”
She pinches her lips together, stifling a laugh.
“Yep! And Mikey Johnson invited me to his birthday party! Can I go, Dad? It’s laser tag!” He hands me a detailed paper invitation.
Mikey Johnson is a little shit, but I don’t have it in me to say no when he’s this excited.
“Sure, buddy.”
“Yes! I can’t wait. I’m going to tell Jerry.”
I chuckle as he rushes down the hallway. “Did you really bully an entire classroom full of kids and their moms?”
She snorts and shrugs one shoulder. “They deserved it.”
“You’re something else, Ruby Lynn Hayes.”
“Ew. Don’t full name me, Liam… holy shit, I don’t know your middle name.”
“James.”
“Oh. Well, that’s boring. Clearly, your parents had no imagination.” She winces and pinches her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s alright. It’s been a long time.”
Twenty years almost to the day.
“I know, but that doesn’t make it right.”
“Ruby, I said it’s fine.”
Unprompted, my mind travels back to that night—to yelling and fighting, to the scream before the gunshot, and the thud of my mother’s body falling to the floor.
“Stay here, Connor.”
My door creaks open, and a ten-year-old version of me tiptoes into the hall.
My gaze lands on a pool of blood forming around Mom’s body.
Her lifeless green eyes are trained somewhere behind me as the blood stains her ginger hair a darker shade of red.
My dad is standing at the other end of the hallway, horrified when he sees me, brows drawn together.
I think he says, “I’m sorry,” but I can’t hear anything over my screams. He places the gun at his temple and pulls the trigger, the loud bang reverberating through the house as sirens wail in the distance.
I snap myself out of the memory like it never happened. The neighbors had called the police. Connor and I never saw the inside of that house again. We were taken away and placed in foster care; no family was willing to take in two troubled boys who’d witnessed their parents' deaths.
“As if Lynn is a groundbreaking middle name,” I deadpan, hoping to bring myself back onto solid ground.
Ruby’s always seen me, though, and she gives me a sympathetic smile. “It was my grandmother’s name. What’s your excuse?”
“Painfully unoriginal dead parents. What should we do for dinner?”
Her jaw goes slack as she registers my words. “Did you just play the dead parent card then casually ask about dinner?”
“Is… that a problem?”
She laughs. “That’s fucked up.”
“Says the girl who bullied a bunch of third graders.”
“Correction, I defended your son from a bunch of bullies. There’s a difference.
” She pauses, biting down on her bottom lip.
I want to reach out and tug it free, but touching any part of Ruby would make me want more.
“In my defense, I had just seen Missy McBitchface, and she was as bitchy as ever. I was still riding the high.”
“What happened?”
“I was checking in. I lied and said Aiden is my stepson, just in case they weren’t letting in people who weren’t related in some way.
Missy said some shit about how you’d never be with ‘someone like me.’” She uses air quotes around the words.
“She asked if Connor knows I’m throwing myself at you, and I asked her if her husband knows she’s fucking her kid’s swim coach. ”
I rake my hands over my beard and release a huff of air. “She’s a piece of work. Used to slide her number across the bar at least once a month.”
She shifts to face me, leaning her shoulder against the back of the couch, one knee bent between us. “Did you ever…”
I mirror her position, bumping my leg against hers. She’s in reach now, and if I wanted to, I could pull her against me. “What if I did? Are you jealous?”
She grabs a throw pillow and places it on her lap, fidgeting with a stray thread. “No. You can do whatever and whoever you want.”
“Hmm. Whoever I want, huh?”
“Yep.”
“That’s never been Missy.” When I look into her striking blue eyes, I still see the girl I knew ten years ago—the first girl who ever made me feel worthy.
Unable to resist the pull, I run my fingers through the loose strands of her hair.
It’s soft like silk. My fingertips brush against her cheek, and the need to touch more of her consumes me, like I knew it would.
Lowering my tone, I say, “I think you already know that, though.”
As if she senses my need, she grabs my hand and places it on her cheek, holding it there.
My eyes drift shut and I inhale a deep, steadying breath, resting my forehead against hers.
Our breaths synchronize. I’m torn between the desire to kiss her and the knowledge that it would be a mistake if I did.
“We can’t,” I murmur.
Her cheeks pinken, and she pulls away, dropping my hand like a hot iron. I instantly miss her touch. “Right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Goldie.”
She clears her throat and stands. “I’m in the mood for a burger. I’ll pick up Rosie’s.” She rushes to the entry, her keys jingling as she snags them off the hook. “The usual?”
She’s out the door before I can respond, and I throw my head back against the couch with a groan. “Way to fumble the ball, asshole.”