Chapter Twenty-two
Ruby felt as if someone were pounding a drum inside her head. Though she was exhausted, she couldn’t sleep. She’d tried turning the light on, hoping Caroline would wake up, but no such luck. Her sister had obviously lapsed into a tequila coma.
After their evening of margaritas and tears, she and Caro had finally stumbled up to bed. They’d lain in the darkness for hours, talking, laughing; sometimes they’d even cried. They’d said all the things they’d gathered up in the years between then and now, but finally, Caroline had fallen asleep.
Ruby closed her eyes and pictured Mom as she’d been a few hours earlier .
. . sitting on the dirty rag rug like a kindergartner, with her casted leg sprawled out to the side, a half-finished margarita beside her thigh.
In profile, with the firelight haloing her face, she’d looked like an angel carved from the purest ivory.
She had been talking quietly to Caroline.
They’d held hands, Mom and Caro, and whispered about marriage, about how it wasn’t what you expected. Their two voices had blended into a music that Ruby couldn’t quite comprehend. At first, she’d felt left out, a child eavesdropping at her parents’ closed bedroom door.
She had been right there, sitting beside them, and yet she’d felt isolated and alone. Unconnected. Never in her life had Ruby felt such an intense sense of her own shortcomings.
She’d been unable to join in the conversation because she’d never made a commitment to another human being; she’d never tried to love someone through good times and bad.
In fact, she’d purposely chosen men she couldn’t love.
In that way, her heart had always seemed safe. And always, it had been empty.
She’d had the realization before, but this time it struck deep.
Caroline and Mom had been talking about love and loss, and most of all, commitment; about how love was more than an emotion.
In the end, Mom had said, sometimes love was a choice.
Like the tide, it could ebb and flow, and there were slack-tide times when a woman had nothing to believe in except a memory, nothing to cling to except the choice she’d made a long time ago.
Mom had looked at Caroline and said softly, “I let the bad times overwhelm me, and I ran. It wasn’t until I’d gone too far to turn back that I remembered how much I loved your father, and by then it was too late. For all these years, I’ve been left wondering, ‘What if?’”
What if?
Ruby closed her eyes. The darkness pressed in on her. She heard the whispering of the sea through the open window.
Do you believe in second chances?
Dean’s question came back to her, filled her longing.
“I do,” she said out loud, hoping that tomorrow, when they went sailing, she would find the courage to say the same words to Dean.
Before tonight, it would have seemed impossible to expose her heart so openly, so boldly. To admit she wanted to love and be loved. But tonight, life seemed different.
As if anything were possible.
The next morning, Nora woke feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Almost young again. She thanked God that she’d sipped a single margarita all night.
She pushed back the coverlet and limped into the bathroom. When she was finished with her morning routine, she dressed quickly in a pair of khaki walking shorts and a white linen shirt.
In the living room, she saw the relics of last night’s blowout—three glasses, each with at least an inch of slime-green liquid in the bottom; an ashtray filled with the cigarettes Caroline had furtively smoked; a pile of discarded record albums.
For the first time this summer, the house looked lived in. This was a mess made by Nora and her daughters, and she’d waited a lifetime to see it.
She put a pot of coffee on, then limped upstairs. The bedroom door was closed. She pushed it open. Caroline and Ruby were still sleeping.
In sleep, they looked young and vulnerable, and at the sight of them, she remembered her own nights in this room, nights she’d slept in this bed with her husband, more often than not with two small, warm bodies tucked in between them.
And now those babies were women full grown, sleeping together in the bed that had once held their parents. Caroline slept curled in a ball, her body pressed close to the mattress’s edge. Ruby, on the other hand, lay spread-eagle, her arms and legs flung out above the bedding.
Nora walked to the bed. Slowly, she reached down and caressed Ruby’s pink, sleep-lined cheek. Her skin was soft, so soft . . .
“Wake up, sleepyheads.”
Ruby groaned and blinked awake, smacking her lips together as if she could still taste the last margarita. “Hi, Mom.”
Caro blinked awake beside her, stretching her arms. She saw Nora and tried to sit up. Halfway there, she groaned and flopped backward. “Oh, my God, my head is swollen.”
Ruby didn’t look a whole lot better, but at least she could sit upright. “Obviously E.D. here should have done a little alcohol training before last night.” She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. “Do we have any aspirin?”
“Aspirin?” Caroline moaned. “That’s an over-the-counter medication. I have prescription-level pain.” She scooted slowly to a seated position, and slumped against Ruby. “I’m never listening to you again. Oh, shit, I’m gonna puke.”
Ruby slipped an arm around her sister. “Aim at Mom. She looks way too happy this morning.”
Ruby’s laughter rang out, and Nora felt a sharp tug of nostalgia. My girls, she thought. Suddenly it seemed like only yesterday they’d begged for Disco Barbies for Christmas.
Nora clapped her hands. “Get a move on, girls. We’re going sailing today with Dean and Eric—remember, Ruby? Lottie has dinner planned for us around seven.”
Caroline turned green. “Sailing?” She rolled out of Ruby’s arms and dropped onto the floor, landing on all fours.
She crouched there a minute, breathing shallowly, then she crawled toward the bathroom.
At the door, she grabbed onto the knob and hauled herself upright.
She turned and gave Ruby a pained smile. “First in the shower!”
“Shit.” Ruby sagged forward, buried her face in her hands. “Don’t use all the hot water.”
Nora smiled. “It’s like old times around here.”
Ruby angled a look at her, gave her a pathetically sloppy smile. “I don’t remember tequila in grade school, or all of us dancing to ‘Footloose,’ singing at the tops of our lungs, but . . . yeah.”
“‘You and Me Against the World,’” Nora said, her smile fading at the suddenness of the memory. “That was our song.”
“I remember.”
Nora wanted to move toward her, but she remained still.
Last night, Caro had come back to Nora completely, but even in the midst of their laughter-and-sob-fest, Ruby had held herself back.
“Well, I’m going to start breakfast and pack us a light lunch.
Dean’s supposed to bring the boat around eleven.
” She waited for Ruby to say something, but when the silence stretched out, Nora turned and headed downstairs, thumping down each step.
She was halfway down when she heard a car drive up. A quick glance at her watch told her it was nine-thirty. Not dawn, certainly, but pretty early for the local islanders to be visiting.
Nora tried to hurry down the stairs, but with her cast, it was difficult. She felt like Quasimodo hurrying down the bell tower.
She made it into the kitchen just as a rattling knock struck the front door. She finger-combed her hair and opened the door.
Standing on her porch was one of the best-looking young men she’d ever seen. He had the kind of beauty that made old women long for youth. Though she hadn’t seen him since the wedding, she’d recognize her son-in-law anywhere.
“Hi, Jeremy,” she said, smiling.
He looked surprised. “Nora?”
“I guess it’s a shock to realize you have a mother-in-law.” She took a step backward, motioning for him to come inside.
He smiled tiredly. “Given my other shocks in the past twenty-four hours, that’s nothing.”
Nora nodded, unsure of how to respond. “Caroline is upstairs. She’s not feeling real well.”
He looked instantly concerned. “Is something wrong? Is that why she left?”
“Tequila. That’s what’s wrong.”
He relaxed, even grinned. “So, you met Ed.”
“It wasn’t a pretty sight. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“That would be great. I missed the final ferry last night, so I slept in my car on the dock. My body feels like it’s been canned.”
Nora went into the kitchen and poured him a cup of coffee. “Cream? Sugar?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
She returned with the coffee, and handed him a cup.
“Thanks.” He glanced toward the stairs. “Is she awake?”
The look he gave Nora was so utterly helpless that she said, “I’ll get her. You wait here.”
“I’m here.”
Nora and Jere both spun around. Caroline stood in the living room.
She was wearing the same silk and linen clothes from last night, only now they were wrinkled beyond recognition.
Her hair was a tangled mess. Flecks of caked mascara turned her eyes into twin bruises.
“Hi, Jere,” she said softly. “I heard your voice.”
Ruby came stumbling down the stairs and rammed into her sister. “Sorry, Caro, I—” She saw Jeremy and stopped. Her laughter dwindled into an uncomfortable silence.
Jere walked over to Caroline. “Care?”
The tenderness in his voice told Nora all she needed to know. There might be trouble between Caro and Jere—maybe big trouble—but underneath all that there was love, and with love, they had a chance.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Caro said, crossing her arms. She took a step backward, and Nora knew her daughter was afraid of getting too close to this man she loved so deeply.
“No,” he said softly, “you shouldn’t have left. Not without talking to me first. Can you imagine how—” His voice cracked. “—how I felt when I got your letter?”
“I thought—”
“Your letter, Care. All these years and you leave me a letter that says you’ll be back when you feel like it?”