Chapter Twenty
Ruby
Ruby didn't see the point in staying for the rest of the festival or enjoying the art, music or chaos she'd been so excited about. Instead of participating in more activities, she checked out of the hotel at dawn, threw her bag in the rental car, and began driving.
She wanted to fly straight to Arizona, collapse on her mother's couch and cry until she ran out of tears. But she'd promised to pick up Sparkle, and Ruby kept her promises even when her heart was breaking.
So she drove. North through Louisiana, into Arkansas, then Tennessee. The landscape blurred past—gas stations, exit signs for towns she'd normally want to explore and roadside attractions that would have called to her like sirens just a week ago.
For the first time in her life, she didn't take detours. She didn't stop for quirky diners or scenic overlooks. She just drove, the silence in the car heavy and oppressive, pressing down on her chest until breathing felt like work.
The stuffed alligator Celeste had left behind sat in the passenger seat, looking slightly deranged with its googly eyes and ridiculous grin. Ruby had grabbed it on her way out of the hotel, unable to leave it behind. Now it stared at her, an accusatory witness to her misery.
“Don't look at me like that,” she muttered, reaching over to turn the alligator so it faced the window instead. “I'm aware I'm pathetic.”
The alligator said nothing in reply, which was probably for the best.
She turned on the radio, searching for distraction. Every station seemed to be playing love songs, sappy, romantic declarations that made her chest ache. She cycled through country songs about heartbreak and rock ballads about love lost and found again. It was like the universe was mocking her.
She finally settled on a true crime podcast and tried to focus on murder instead of heartbreak. It didn't really help.
Her mind kept circling back to New Orleans and to the note that had said everything and nothing at once.
The words played on repeat in Ruby's head, mixing with her own hurt and the terrible, persistent ache of missing someone who'd made it clear they didn't want to be missed.
By the time she reached the veterinary clinic in Chester Falls, Ruby's eyes were gritty from lack of quality sleep and her back hurt from driving for so long.
But the thought of seeing Sparkle gave her something to hold onto in a week that had gone spectacularly wrong.
Dr. Zimmerman greeted her with a welcoming smile. “Good to see you, Ruby! Sparkle's been doing wonderfully. Come on back.”
The bird was in a large cage in the recovery room, hopping from perch to perch with surprising energy. When she saw Ruby, she chirped excitedly, ruffling her feathers.
“Hey, Sparkle girl.” Ruby made sure her voice was even, so Sparkle wouldn’t be scared as she opened the cage door. The bird hopped onto her finger immediately, nuzzling against her palm. “Look at you. All healed up.”
“The wing’s yet to heal completely,” Dr. Zimmerman said. “She'll never be quite as strong as before, but she can fly short distances and will be able to survive in the wild if you release her. Or you can keep her, if you'd rather.”
Ruby stroked Sparkle's head with one finger, feeling the delicate bones beneath soft feathers. The bird had been broken and was learning to fly again, even if not quite as well as before.
She wondered if she'd be able to do the same.
“I'll keep her, at least for a while. Make sure she's really ready before I let her go.”
“That's kind of you.” Dr. Zimmerman handed her a small travel cage.
She paid the bill and tried not to think about how Celeste had stood right here in this office, holding her hand while they waited to hear if Sparkle would be okay. She carried Sparkle out to the car and set the cage carefully in the back seat, making sure it was secure.
Sparkle chirped at her, eliciting a temporary kind of delight in Ruby.
At least she had the bird and something good had come from this disaster of a trip.
She got back on the highway and pointed the car toward Cheyenne Valley. One more night in this godforsaken rental car, then she could return it, say goodbye to Braden and Jackson and Mary, and fly to Arizona where she could fall apart properly.
The phone rang through the car's Bluetooth and her mother's name flashed on the screen.
Ruby almost didn't answer because she didn't want to worry her mother just yet. But she knew if she kept it up, Renee would assume the worst and probably call in the National Guard or something equally dramatic.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Oh baby.” Just two words, but Ruby heard the concern and immediate recognition that something was wrong. “What happened?”
“How did you—”
“I'm your mother. I always know.” Renee's voice was gentle. “Talk to me.”
And Ruby did. The whole story came pouring out about meeting Celeste again, the road trip that had felt like fate and falling in love despite knowing better. Celeste's fear, her own heartbreak. The way it had ended with Celeste suddenly leaving.
“I'm so stupid,” Ruby finished, her voice rough. “I knew it couldn't work. I knew from the beginning she couldn't give me what I needed. But I fell anyway.”
“You're not stupid. You're human.” Renee sighed, and Ruby could picture her sitting at the kitchen table, probably with a cup of tea going cold in front of her.
“Love doesn't follow logic, my sweet. If it did, I never would have married your father. He was completely wrong for me on paper, given our different backgrounds and different temperaments. But he made me laugh and made me want to be brave. Sound familiar?”
“Oh, Mom.”
“I'm not saying you should go back to her. If she can't meet you halfway, then she's not worth your time. But I am saying you shouldn't beat yourself up for falling in love. That's not a weakness. That's being alive.”
Ruby wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, grateful no one could see her crying on the highway. “I just want to come home. Sleep for a week. Maybe forever.”
“Come home, then. I'll make up your room. We'll watch terrible movies, eat ice cream and you can cry as much as you need to.” Renee paused. “And then, when you're ready, you can start planning your next adventure. Europe, maybe? You've been talking about it for years.”
“I don't know if I want to travel anymore.”
“Now I know you're really hurt. My daughter who's been wandering since she could walk doesn't want to travel? You'll feel different once you've had time to heal. Switzerland would be a good place to start. Or maybe Amsterdam. You've always wanted to see the museums there.”
“Paris is supposed to be beautiful,” Ruby said automatically, then winced. Paris. The city of love. The city where couples walked hand-in-hand along the Seine and kissed under the Eiffel Tower.
“Pass on Paris for now,” Renee said, as if reading her mind. “Switzerland first with its mountains, chocolate and beautiful architecture. Nothing romantic about that.”
“Everything's romantic when you're heartbroken.”
“Fair point. But at least Switzerland has fondue. That's got to count for something.”
Ruby laughed. It came out shaky and uncertain, but it was real. “How do you always know what to say?”
“Years of practice. And I love you.” Renee's voice softened. “Drive safe, baby. Text me when you stop for the night. And remember that this pain is temporary. It might not feel like it now, but it is.”
“I will. Love you, Mom.”
The call ended, and Ruby was alone again with her thoughts and Sparkle's occasional chirps from the back seat. But somehow, the silence felt less oppressive now. Her mother's words had given her something to hold onto.
This pain is temporary.
Ruby wanted to believe that. But right now, with miles of highway still ahead and a broken heart she didn't know how to fix, temporary felt like forever.
She'd told her mother she'd take care of herself, the way you reassure parents that you're fine and you don't need them to worry.
But as she drove through the fading light, she realized she wasn't certain of those words at all.