Chapter 32 #2
She wipes a gloved hand across her nose. “I probably need to get cleaned up and start thinking about lunch. But once I get going out here, I can’t seem to stop.” The clippers look old, well used, a touch of rust on the long blades.
“I was wondering, Ruth, if you could tell me more about Mary. What happened to her? Sunny apparently made up a story about Mary dying in my room.”
Ruth’s face falls. “That girl! Well, it isn’t true.”
“Alex told me, but he didn’t go into details. And I’m curious.”
She drops the clippers to the soggy ground and pulls off her gloves. “It was a tragedy, that’s for sure.” Ruth shakes her head. “She was so young.”
I lift my gaze to the treetops, which sway in the chilly breeze. “I know about my mother and me, Ruth. I know that we were here right before Mary died.”
I watch her face carefully. No surprise there. Alex must’ve told her that I’d found out. I don’t think there are any secrets between them.
“Yes, Emma. I know.”
“But you didn’t tell me. When I asked you if you’d ever seen my mother here, you said you didn’t remember.”
Her lips thin. She leans over to pick up the clippers, her face hidden by the brim of her hat.
“It wasn’t my place, dear. Alex needed to tell you that.
Besides, I never spoke to your mother, and I barely remember her being here.
I do remember the old car she was driving sitting in Alex’s driveway.
That memory seems to have stuck with me. ”
“Did you see me? I was here, too.”
“No, I didn’t.” Her eyes fasten on mine. “Do you remember being here, Emma? Did you know all along?”
“Of course not. I had no clue. All I knew was what my mother told me, that Alex had left her in California when he found out she was pregnant.”
“So, your mother didn’t tell the truth either, did she?”
I feel tears gather in my eyes, my breath catches. I’ve never felt so alone. “No.”
“Emma, sometimes people do things, say things that they shouldn’t.”
“Lie.”
“Yes. They lie. Not out of malice, but to protect the ones they love.”
“I’m not feeling very loved at the moment,” I say, my voice steadier than I expected.
Ruth’s shoulders sink. “Dear, sometimes you need to forgive and move on. What matters is now. Alex is thrilled he’s found you at last. Can’t you embrace that?
This new family? We’re delighted that you’re here.
Granted, it’s been a rough start with Simon …
” She sniffs. “And finding out … everything. Let’s go into the house.
We’ll have a cup of tea and an apple muffin. Just made them.”
We head through the back door. Ruth pauses at a little hall table, hangs her sun hat on a hook, and runs a comb that was sitting there through her hair. We settle at the kitchen table with our tea and muffins, Ruth’s answer to every problem.
“Please tell me what happened to Mary,” I say, my gaze on my tea. “Alex said she died not long after my mother and I were here.”
“Yes.” Ruth reaches for a little white pitcher and pours milk into her cup, stirs it slowly as if taking time to think.
“Mary had food allergies. Peanut especially and it was serious.” Her dark eyes meet mine.
“We had to be very careful. Then when Mary was a teenager, the pediatrician prescribed an EpiPen for her. I remember when Lydia, Mary’s mother, came back from the pharmacy with it.
Lydia was a nervous wreck. Worried. She came over here, in tears, and asked me to help her figure out the instructions.
She said she could barely listen when the pharmacist explained to her and Mary how to use it.
Anyway, I told her we’d be careful and make sure that Mary didn’t ever have reason to use it.
I’ve always liked to bake and cook, so I told Lydia we’d make sure that peanuts never made their way into my kitchen or hers either.
The kids, both Alex and Mary, were over here as much as they were at their own house in those days.
Anyway, as Mary got older, she was in charge of her own EpiPen, and she was very careful to avoid any situations where she might get exposed. ”
“She had an allergic reaction? That’s how she died?” Noah had told me the same thing, but I want to hear it from Ruth, too. Since everyone here seems to lie about everything, it’s best to hear from all sources before I decide what really happened.
“Yes.”
“How then if she was so careful?”
Ruth sips her tea. She sets her cup down and it rattles on the saucer.
“Well, Mary was a moody girl. She had an entirely different disposition from Alex. He was always the optimist, always a great zest for the next big thing.” Ruth waves her hand in the air, smiles.
“But Mary took everything to heart. When her parents died, she really went into her shell. She was really close to her mother. We didn’t think Mary would even go back to college after the funerals.
She just sat in her room with the door shut.
Finally, she rallied. I talked to her and convinced her to finish her degree.
Anyway, she graduated, came home. But something wasn’t right with her.
She was in a deep depression.” Ruth sighs.
“I suppose we should’ve insisted she get help, you know?
But hindsight. Anyway, Alex in the meantime had just sold his first manuscript and he was on top of the world, and I think she resented that.
She missed her mom so much and she thought that Alex was just moving on.
Anyway, one day she loaded up her little car, said she was going on a day hike.
She did that a lot, so we didn’t think too much of it.
But that evening, by about seven-thirty, she still wasn’t back, so Alex went looking for her.
She always hiked the same trails, so he knew where she’d be. ”
Ruth gets up and wanders to the refrigerator, pours more milk into the little pitcher. “Alex found her. She’d left her EpiPen behind. She was deceased.”
“But you said she was careful. Why would she leave her EpiPen behind? And she would’ve needed to have ingested …”
“Trail mix. Trail mix that belonged to Alex. She knew better, Emma.” Ruth’s gaze meets mine.
“Suicide? Mary killed herself?”
Ruth nods and wipes a tear from her cheek.