Chapter Sixteen
Ruby had never been to her sister’s house, but the address was imprinted on her brain.
Caroline was the only person on earth who regularly received a Christmas card from Ruby.
It was simply required. Ruby had long ago discovered that it wasn’t worth the eleven months of sarcastic jabs. Better to mail off a damn card.
Not so many years earlier, this had been the sticks; hundreds of acres of unspoiled farmland nestled between two rivers.
Now it was MicrosoftLand, the über suburbia of the geek set.
The developments had tried to keep the rural flavor—lots were big; subdivisions had names like Evergreen Valley and Rainshadow Vista, and trees were preserved at all cost. Unfortunately, the houses all looked disturbingly similar.
Stepford in a coat of Ralph Lauren paint.
Ruby checked the handy rental car map and turned down Emerald Lane. One big, brick-faced house followed another, each built to the edge of its lot. New landscaping gave the neighborhood an unsettled look.
She drove up the stamped blue concrete driveway and parked next to a silver Mercedes station wagon, then grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and headed up the path to a pair of oak doors trimmed in beaded brass.
She knocked. From inside came a rustle of movement, then a muffled “Just a minute.”
Suddenly the door sprang open and Caroline stood there, looking flawless at one o’clock in the afternoon in a pair of ice-blue linen pants and a matching boatneck cashmere sweater.
“Ruby!” Caroline pulled Ruby into her arms, holding her tightly.
Ruby closed her eyes; for the first time in hours, she was able to draw a decent breath.
Finally, Caro drew back. “I’m so glad you came.”
“I didn’t have a chance to go shopping. I meant to get the kids something—”
“Forget about that.” Caroline yanked Ruby into the house.
Of course, it was perfect. Uncluttered and flawlessly decorated. Not a thing was out of place.
It didn’t look as if a child had ever been in here let alone lived here.
They passed through a pristine kitchen, all gleaming metallic surfaces and black granite countertops. Here was the first hint of the family. Pictures covered the Sub-Zero refrigerator. Above the double sinks, a bay window held on to a view of rolling, green lawn. A golf course.
Caro led her through the formal dining room, where Grandma’s silver tea service glittered on a massive oak sideboard, and into the living room.
Walls painted in a lovely faux marble finish dropped down to a wide-planked oak floor.
Two wing chairs, upholstered in an elegant brandy-colored silk weave, flanked a gold-and-bronze tapestried sofa.
A pair of crystal lamps sat on gilded rosewood end tables, pouring golden light onto the plush antique Chinese rug.
“Where are the kids?”
Caroline brought a finger to her lips and said harshly, “Sshh. We don’t want to wake them up.”
“Could I tiptoe upstairs and just—”
“Trust me on this. You can see them when they wake up.”
Ruby got a glimpse of something—someone—behind Caro’s perfect, smiling face, but it was there and gone so fast, it left no imprint behind.
She felt a little prickle of unease. Nothing was ever wrong with Caroline. She was the most balanced, well-adjusted person Ruby had ever known. Even during that horrible summer, Caro had moved along on an even keel, accepting what Ruby never would, smiling, forgetting, going on . . .
And yet now, impossibly, Caroline looked unhappy. “Something’s going on with you,” Ruby said, “what is it?”
Caro sat like a parakeet on the edge of the chair. Her perfectly manicured hands were clasped so tightly together the skin had gone pale. A Julia Roberts smile flashed across her serene face. “It’s nothing, really. Just a bad week. The kids have been acting up. It’s nothing.”
Ruby couldn’t put her finger on it, exactly, but something was wrong here. Suddenly she knew. “You’re having an affair!”
This time there was no mistaking the genuineness of Caro’s smile. It showed how false the others had been. “Since Fred was born, I’d rather hit myself in the head with a jackhammer than have sex.”
“Maybe that’s your problem. I try to have sex at least twice a week—sometimes even with someone else.”
Caro laughed. “Oh, Ruby . . . God, I missed you . . .” She sounded normal now.
“I missed you, too.”
“So,” Caro said, leaning back now. “What brought you racing to my door?”
“What makes you think I raced?”
Caro gave her “the look.” “Nice outfit. I haven’t seen so much black since Jenny went to the Halloween party as a licorice whip.”
“Good point.” They both knew that Ruby usually dressed defensively for Caro. It was easier that way.
“So what is it? You left Mom strapped to the wheelchair and ran screaming out of the house.” Caro grinned at her own black humor. “Or maybe you left her at a rest area a few miles back and now she’s thumbing it.”
Ruby couldn’t even smile. “I went to Dad’s house this morning.”
“Yeah, so?”
She had no idea how to put a pretty spin on such ugliness, so she just said it. “When Nora left . . . Dad was having an affair.”
Caroline sat back. “Oh, that.”
“You knew?”
“Everyone on the island knew.”
“Not me.”
Caroline’s smile was soft and tender. “You didn’t want to know.”
Ruby had trouble finding her voice. “She’s not who I thought she was, Caro. We’re trapped in that house together, and whether I like it or not, I’m getting to know her. We . . . talk.”
“You’re getting to know her?” Something passed through Caroline’s eyes at that. If Ruby hadn’t known better, she would have called it envy. Suddenly Caro walked out of the room. A few minutes later, she returned with two glasses of wine and a pack of cigarettes.
Ruby laughed. “Smoking—you’re kidding, right? A cig in your hand would be like—”
“No jokes, Ruby. Please.”
Ruby saw how fragile her sister looked. “Point the way to cancer. That doesn’t count—it wasn’t funny.”
Caro opened the French doors and led Ruby to a seat at an umbrellaed table. The golf course stretched alongside the flowered yard, dipped to a valley, and rose on the other side to a row of houses remarkably similar to this one.
Caroline pulled a cigarette from the pack and lit up.
Ruby followed suit. She hadn’t smoked in years, and she had to admit, the novelty of it was fun.
Her sister took a drag, exhaled, and stared out across the green.
A stream of smoke clouded her face. “I’ve been talking to Mom for years, meeting her now and then for lunch, calling her on Sunday mornings, being the daughter she expects, and we’re polite strangers.
And you—” She shot Ruby a narrowed gaze.
“You, who treats her like Typhoid Mary, she talks to.”
An awkward silence fell between them, and Ruby couldn’t think of how to step over it. “We’re stuck together.”
Caroline took a drag and exhaled slowly, staring out at the green lawn. “That’s not it. What’s she like?”
“The worst part is, she’s smarter than I am.
She keeps making me remember who she used to be.
Who we used to be. And you know, it hurts.
When I was on the ferry this morning, before Dad dropped his A-bomb, I was thinking about our visits to the county fair.
How we used to walk through the midway with her, eating cotton candy, tossing pennies at ugly china dishes, and I . . . missed her.”
“I know how that feels.”
Ruby noticed that her sister’s hands were trembling. “Have you forgiven her?” she asked. “I mean, really?”
Caro looked up. “I tried to forget it, you know? Most of the time, I do, too. It’s like it happened to another family, not mine.”
“So, you haven’t forgiven her any more than I have. You’re just nicer about it.”
Caroline tried to smile, though there was a bleakness in her eyes that was unsettling. “Your honesty is a gift, Rube, even if it hurts people. You’re . . . real. I can’t seem to—”
A scream blared through the open window behind them.
Ruby jumped. “Good God. Has someone been shot?”
Caroline deflated. Her shoulders caved downward, and the color seemed to seep out of her cheeks. “The princess is up.”
Ruby moved closer to her sister. “Are you okay, Caro?”
The smile was too fleeting to be real. “I’ll be fine,” she said, and Ruby saw that her sister was pretending again. She got up from her seat and walked woodenly back into the house.
Ruby followed her.
“AAAGH . . .” This time there were two screams.
A jack-in-the-box came crashing and jangling down the stairs and skidded across the kitchen floor.
“Go,” Caro said with a tired smile. “Save yourself.”
A naked Barbie doll cartwheeled down the stairs and thumped into the table leg.
The screams were getting louder. Ruby fought the urge to cover her ears. “Let’s go upstairs. I want to at least see my niece and nephew.”
“Not when Jenny’s in this kind of a mood. Trust me.”
Another toy came crashing down the stairs, followed by a shrieking cry. “MO-MMY NOW!”
Caroline turned to her. “Please? Another time?”
“Well . . . next week I’m going to come down here and baby-sit. You and Jere can go out dancing or something.”
“Dancing.” Caroline smiled wistfully. “That would be nice.”
Ruby remembered suddenly that she wouldn’t be here next week. She’d be back in California on The Sarah Purcell Show, telling the world about her mother. Suddenly she felt sick.
“You’d better get going. The ferry lines are hell this time of day.”
Ruby checked her watch. “Shit. You’re right.”
Caroline looped an arm around Ruby, drew her close, and guided her toward the door. There she paused. “I’m sorry you had to find out about Dad, but maybe it’ll help. We’re human, Ruby. All of us. Just human.”
Ruby hugged her sister, holding her so tightly that neither of them could breathe. “I love you, Caro.”
“I love you, too, Rubik’s Cube. Now, get going.”
Ruby drew back. She had the strange thought that if she said anything except good-bye, Caro would simply shatter.
So good-bye was all she said.