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“Yep,” Ruby said.
But as Dahlia turned to go along with Marianne, Ruby grabbed her arm.
“So,” Ruby said, turning those wide blue eyes on in such a manner that Dahlia knew the following sentence was certain to irritate. “Dad said I could stay in the cottage.”
Dahlia laughed. She couldn’t help herself.
Because hadn’t it always been this way?
She’d had her own room, and then Ruby had appeared. And the town had sent cribs and bassinets and diapers and toys that had overflowed into Dahlia’s space. Not a bit of it for her, and leaving very little space for her on top of it.
“I told him he had to ask you,” Ruby said. “But you know how Dad is. He said you don’t pay rent and blah blah his land. But I don’t want to stay there if it bothers you.”
Dahlia wondered for a full five seconds what would happen if she told Ruby no. If she just said:Nope, not going to work. Find somewhere else to bunk.
But Ruby, for all that she was asking, knew Dahlia wouldn’t do that. And Dahlia, for all that she was annoyed, knew that she wouldn’t either.
“There are two bedrooms inthe shed, Rubes.” She persisted in sayingshedbecause Ruby wouldn’t call it that. “There’s no reason you can’t stay there.”
“Oh, thank you!” Ruby lurched forward and wrapped her arms around Dahlia’s neck, and Dahlia responded with a light pat on her sister’s back. “We can carpool!” she said when they separated.
“We’ll see, Rubes.”
“Okay, that’s good enough. I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the cottage.”
“Mostly stacked books in there. You’ll need your own desk.”
“I can do that.”
“Okay, see you tonight.”
As Dahlia watched Ruby walk away, her blond hair bouncing behind her, she reflected on the earlier strangeness of walking with her younger sister. It was the kind of thing she was used to, but it hit her harder because it had been months since Ruby had been in town.
Ruby had come back all sun and smiles, and as usual, everyone responded to that. But what kept sticking for Dahlia was the way no one ever seemed... Curious about Ruby.
Oh, they liked her. Loved her, even.
But Dahlia saw her and always remembered baby Ruby. Small, vulnerable and left to die on the coldest night of the year.
No one had ever wanted to know how she’d come to be there, not to the extent Dahlia had, even as a child.
But why, Mom? Why would someone leave her? Doesn’t it mean her mom didn’t want her?
She could still remember her mom’s expression getting fierce.
No, Dahlia. She was sent to me. I’m her mom. And I want her very much.
But Dahlia had burned for the whole story. Like she always did.
And everyone around her seemed to just want a fairy tale while she was desperate toknow.
But then, that was the McKee family way. Dahlia’s grandmother had died of cancer when Dahlia was ten, and no one had even told the girls she was sick.
No point dwelling, Andie had said.You can deal with crisis when it hits, but why spend time worrying while it’s waving in the distance?
Dahlia had disagreed. Then and now.
And wanted to know. What would always amaze her was that Ruby didn’t seem to want to know the truth of her origins for herself, that Ruby had adopted that McKee mindset so very deeply.
