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Hardly the right choice for a visit with your first love . . .
Finally, at the very bottom of the suitcase, she found a plain, peach-colored tank top and a pair of frayed cutoffs.
She didnt bother with socks, just brushed her teeth, slicked her hair back (thank God Mom had cut it), grabbed her sunglasses, and raced back downstairs.
Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, doing a crossword puzzle and sipping tea as if this were an ordinary morning. “Have a nice time,” she said, not looking up.
“Bye. ” Ruby went outside. The first thing she noticed was the sweet scent of the roses and the salty tang of the sea. Baking kelp and hot rocks gave the air a faintly scorched, metallic smell.
She headed down the porch and skipped around to the side of the house.
There stood Dean, just outside the picket fence, with a bicycle on either side of him.
She stopped. “Youve obviously confused me with a woman who likes to sweat. ”
He handed her a bike helmet. It was pink and had a Barbie decal on the forehead. She crossed her arms. “That is definitely not gonna happen. ”
He smiled. “Too old to ride a bike, Rube? Or too out of shape?”
Damn him. He knew she couldnt refuse a challenge. She grabbed the handlebars and yanked the bike around. “I havent ridden a bike since. . . ” She stumbled over the memories. “In a long time. ”
His smile faded. He was remembering it, too, the day shed asked him out for a bike ride . . . and broken his heart.
She stared at him for a minute more, trying to read his mind. It was closed to her. “Okay,” she said at last. “Lead on. ”
He jumped on his bike and pedaled on ahead of her. She wanted to watch him, maybe ride alongside, but frankly, she was terrified that she was going to do a face-plant on the gravel driveway and end up as a medical episode on the Discovery channel.
He turned at the end of the driveway and headed uphill.
Ruby tried to keep up. By the top of the street, her pores had turned into geysers. Her vision was blurred by sweat; she could have been pedaling underwater for all she could see.
And it was hot.
Really, really hot.
She would have complained was, in fact, dying to complain-but there wasnt enough breath in her lungs to form the word stop, let alone, you asshole.
Just when she felt her heart start to stutter; they turned a corner.
Levinger Hill.
They were flying now, racing side by side down the long, two-lane road. Golden pastures studded with apple trees rushed past them.
Dean leaned back, held his arms out . . .
And Ruby sailed into the past. They were fourteen again, that summer they learned to ride without using their hands, when every scraped knee was a badge of courage . . . when theyd whooshed down this very hill, arms outflung, together, the radio strapped to the handlebars blaring out Starships “Nothings Gonna Stop Us Now. ”
The hill slowed down into a long, even S curve, then wound into the entrance of Trout Lake State Park.
Ruby should have known hed bring her here. “No fair, Dino,” she said softly, wondering if he even heard her.
He heard. “Whats that they say about love and war?”
“Which one is this?”
“Thats up to you. Come on, race you to the park. ” Without waiting for an answer, he pedaled away from her, down the long, winding, tree-lined street.
It was dark on this road, even on this hot summer morning. Shadows fell across the thin layer of pavement in serrated strips. The air was cold.
