7. Salt Of The Earth
CHAPTER SEVEN
SALT OF THE EARTH
Ruby
We’ve performed in The Speakeasy three nights in a row.
I knew coming back to Winslet would be hard. The best and the worst memories plague me.
But I didn’t expect this.
Singing in bars is how I support myself. I’m not famous. Not by a long shot. But I have made a name for myself in some circles. Those circles aren’t big, but it’s been enough to pay the rent and splurge on my favorite slice of pizza here and there.
I love small bars—the smaller and tighter packed, the better. I feed off the energy.
Thursday was an audition. The bar was full even though it wasn’t promoted. But then again, Blake told me the manor is always at capacity. Word must have spread, and not about my drama at the Combover, because it was standing room only on Friday.
And tonight, there’s barely a breath of room. The bar was five deep, and that started an hour before we took to the mic and ivories. Blake and I added a small set at the end. Devon must like me enough to overlook my quibble with Payne the other day, because he hasn’t fired me.
Winnie is crazy enough to hope Payne comes back for an encore performance.
She said local drama is what makes small towns shine.
Being down with a broken ankle gives her too much time to think.
Going head-to-head with Payne once was enough.
I haven’t seen him since he dropped fifty dollars for a glass of water.
I climb out of the passenger seat of Blake’s truck with my heels dangling in one hand and my bag with every essential I could possibly need for freshening up in the other.
I haven’t owned a car since I moved to the city.
I need to think about that. I’ve been bumming a ride with Blake or borrowing Grandma’s Oldsmobile.
I’m not picky, but it gives old a new meaning.
And she might not drive on the mountain roads, but she does drive herself in town. She needs her car.
That’s a problem for next week. I’ll put word out at the diner in case anyone has a beater for sale.
I look up to the house that’s lit up in the dark of night. There’s usually a lamp or two left on for us, but it’s never like this. “Looks like Grandma is still up.”
Blake pulls out his keys. “It’s after midnight. She’s never up this late.”
I follow him up the front walk as he finds his key. “Maybe she fell asleep in front of the TV. She doesn’t do it often, but if she’s really worn out, I used to have to wake her to go to bed.”
Grandma’s house is small. The family room is right off the front door. A small dining table sits near the back of the house with the kitchen tucked around the corner. Down the hall are three small bedrooms and one bath.
I’ve lived here since I was five and our shit-show of a mother came back to live with Grandma. I never knew my father. Hell, I’m not sure Mom knew him either. Whenever I asked about him, she avoided that subject like the plague and told me he wanted nothing to do with a kid.
It seems she didn’t learn from that lesson the first time, because she repeated the same scenario with Buck when she ended up pregnant years later.
But unlike mine, Blake’s father stuck around.
Buck was not father material, let alone husband material.
Mom quit her cleaning job when she had Blake, and Grandma worked overtime to put food on the table.
Mom might’ve taken me to work for years, but she couldn’t do that with a newborn.
Grandma had enough and put her foot down to both Mom and Buck. Get a job or get out.
Buck decided to get out.
But what shocked everyone was that he talked Mom into going with him and leaving us behind. I was twelve and Blake was six months old when our mom left in the middle of the night and never came back.
I’m envious of my little brother. He has no memory of her.
Was she a good mom? No way. And the only reason I know that is because Grandma is the best mother figure we could have. She’s no nonsense, but she said she had to be. She didn’t want us to turn out like her daughter.
This little house is everything we’ve ever needed—no more and no less. It’s home, and every day I’m back, I realize how much I missed it.
I hang my purse on the hall tree by the front door. “She must have forgotten to turn off the lights. I’ll check on her.”
Blake heads to the kitchen. “I’m starving. Do you want anything before you crash for the night?”
I toss my shoes into my room and look back. “I’m good, thanks.”
But the door to Grandma’s room is open, the light is on, and her bed is made.
“Grandma?” I call for her but there’s nothing. That’s when I notice the bathroom door is closed. I knock. “Grandma, are you in there?”
A weak moan comes from the other side.
“Grandma!” I don’t knock again and turn the handle, but the door only budges a few inches. She’s on the floor, not moving, and blood is seeping from a cut on her head. “Blake! I need help!”
I push the door open as gently as I can and try not to hurt her.
Blake comes running. “What?”
“I don’t know what happened. She’s on the floor.” I get the door open far enough to pry my way into the bathroom, fall to my knees beside her, and frame her face in my hands. “Grandma, can you hear me?”
Blake sticks his head through the small opening as I maneuver around her. “Is she unconscious?”
Grandma’s head lolls to the side. Her eyes are half open. “Ruby...”
I try not to move her. Grandma is a force, but it’s always had to do with her personality.
I saw the decline the moment she welcomed me home in her warm embrace.
Seeing her on the cold bathroom floor like this sends a dagger through my heart.
“It’s okay. We’re here to take care of you. You’re going to be okay.”
I inspect the knot and cut on her head. The blood is already starting to dry where it’s dripped into her hair. There’s no telling how long she’s been like this.
I look up at Blake. “I’m afraid to move her, but she needs to go to the hospital.”
Payne
The call is closer to me than the station, so I grabbed my medic bag and headed straight there.
When I heard the location, I jumped out of bed like the house was on fire. I know that address. I was on my way by the time I got word which Sinclair was in trouble. At the time of the call, Alice was reported in and out of consciousness.
Alice Sinclair is the salt of the earth. She’s proof that when life dishes out a pile of shit, you can still be a good, decent person and live life without making yourself and everyone around you miserable in the process.
The world needs more people like Alice.
I park on the street two doors down to make room for the ambulance and engine. Reporting straight to the call isn’t procedure. Then again, this is the Sinclair house. I know it as intimately as other things I’m trying not to think about in recent days.
I haven’t been here for over a decade, but not one thing has changed. I don’t bother knocking since the front door is unlocked and push my way into the house since every light is on. “Blake, Ruby! Where’s Alice?”
Blake rushes from the back hall. His face is panicked as he runs his hands through his moppy hair that’s nothing like his sisters. “She’s in the bathroom. Ruby is with her. I don’t know if she slipped or fainted, but she hit her head.”
I move past him and pause when I get to the threshold of the only bathroom in the house.
Alice is on the floor prone with Ruby on her knees hovering over her.
Blood soaks a washcloth that Ruby has pressed to her temple.
When her normally bright blues connect with me, there’s nothing bright about them.
And there’s definitely no shock or hate like there has been every time I’ve seen her in the last few days.
Tears stream down Ruby’s face as her eyes widen with surprise when she sees me. “What are you doing here?”
“Hate me all you want, but I’m your EMT for the night.” I step over Alice, drop my medic bag to the floor, and press my fingers to her neck. “Has she been unconscious since you found her?”
Ruby proves she cares about her grandmother more than my presence. “In and out. She’s only mumbled a few words. I don’t know what to do. I tried not to move her, but she was wedged behind the door. Where is the ambulance?”
“They’ll be here any minute. I was closer, so I came straight here.” I dig through my bag and get to work. “Ms. Sinclair, can you hear me?”
Alice tries to swat Ruby’s hand away and mumbles something I can’t understand.
Ruby shakes her head. “She’s been like this since we found her.”
I snap my gloves on before I check her airway. “Her pulse is weak. Is she on any medications?”
“Not that I know of.” Ruby shakes her head and looks up at Blake. “Is there anything I don’t know about?”
Blake shrugs. “Not that she’s told me. Just old people stuff. Aches and pains ... I don’t know.”
I pull Ruby’s hand away holding the soaked cloth to her head. “I need room to work so I can stabilize her neck.”
Ruby scoots back on her ass in a dress that’s as fiery as her name. Alice’s eyes flutter open and she mumbles a complaint when I place a neck brace on her. I look down at the old woman and smile. “Thanks for joining us. You took a fall. Do you remember what happened?”
Alice’s voice is weak, but her words are not. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Ruby lets out a relieved exhale. “Thank God, she’s awake.”
I smile down at the old woman. “It’s good to see you too.”
“Where’s Blake? Is he home yet?”
“I’m right here, Grandma,” Blake calls.
Alice can’t see him. It doesn’t matter how weak she is, she tries to pull at the brace I just put on her. “Get this thing off me.”
I go through every step to assess her and check her vitals as Ruby takes her grandmother’s hand in hers. “You fell and hit your head. You’re bleeding. You need to cooperate.”
I tear open an alcohol wipe and run it over her middle finger.
“Ouch!” Alice bites out when I prick her finger and squeeze. I wipe the first drop of blood away and squeeze again. “Get your hands off me, Payne Deacon.”
I squeeze a drop of blood into a glucometer. It takes a few seconds until a number pops up on the screen. “Well, that explains a lot. Your glucose is running low, Ms. Sinclair.”
Alice is having none of it. “It’s not either. I just tripped over my own feet. Happens all the time.”
“It does not happen all the time,” Blake argues. “I’d know if you were falling every other day.”
She waves off her grandson just as new voices announce themselves from the front door. “Winslet Fire and EMT. Deacon, are you here?”
“In the bathroom,” I call and dig in my bag. “We’re going to need the stretcher.”
Blake disappears down the hall as his grandmother continues to complain. “Ruby, make him get this thing off me.”
Ruby gives Alice’s hand a squeeze, and it’s not lost on me that this is the closest I’ve been to her. Closer than when we were going at it across the counter at the diner. “Don’t argue, Grandma. They’re taking you in to make sure you’re okay.”
I rip open a glucose gel. “You’re grumpy enough that you’ve officially passed the coherent test to take oral glucose. I’ve got dessert for you. Open up. This will make you feel better.”
With her complexion still ashen, Alice glares up at me and looks like she’s working hard to expend so much anger. “I wouldn’t trust you if you were the last human on earth and I were on my death bed. You’re not even a real fireman.”
“Grandma, stop it and do what he says,” Ruby pleads.
“You slay me, Ms. Sinclair. Most people around here call me a hero. It’s this or an IV. You choose. I’m just putting it out there that the IV is for the weak who can’t manage to choke down the sugar gel. What’s it going to be?”
Alice frowns. “I’m not a weakling. I get my steps in every single day.”
“Grandma, take the gel,” Ruby insists.
Alice can barely move where she’s wedged with the brace on her neck, but she has no problem rolling her eyes. “Fine.”
I squeeze the packet of gel onto her tongue. “That’ll make you feel better until the doctors can figure out what’s going on.”
Alice swallows and announces the obvious. “You have no idea what’s wrong with me. You’re no doctor.”
I sit back on my heels. “Ma’am, my job is to keep you alive until you get to the hospital, not cure you. They’ll figure out why your blood sugar was so low.”
The other two volunteers make it down the narrow hall with the stretcher as the guy in the front announces. “Your magic carpet ride awaits, Ms. Sinclair.”
Alice finally gives in as I clean the gash on the side of her head and tape a piece of gauze over it. It had mostly stopped bleeding before I got here. Ruby brushes the hair from Alice’s face. “Please, cooperate. Blake and I will follow you to the hospital.”
“It’s a waste of time,” Alice insists. “I’m fine now. Gimme an aspirin, and I’ll go to bed.”
Ruby looks from me to the other medics. “Ignore her. Take her to the hospital.”
“Ruby Mae, I’m going to have it out with you later for this.”
After more complaining and arguing, she’s strapped to the stretcher and out the door. Right before I climb up into the back of the ambulance with the old woman who seems to hate me as much as her granddaughter, Blake grabs my forearm. “Thanks, Payne. Ruby and I will be right behind you.”
I lift my chin. “I’ll see you there.”
I duck to climb into the back of the rig. Right before I slam the door behind me, Alice yells, “Payne Deacon, you’re on my shit list!”
Fucking great.