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Ruth
Mama always said you can talk about anything if you do it in the right way. Daddy always said, if you can’t beat ‘em, you might as well join ‘em. I’m beginning to think there’s something to that. It was especially clear in the way the guests interacted with Ashley Parker tonight. I may not be her biggest fan. But I’ll say one thing, she’s good for business.
During the reception, I landed two bookings. Both for large events, and surprisingly one of them came after my brother’s outburst.
“She brings fresh blood to this town,” Georgia Adkins said. “I like her.” This was right before she booked her annual lady’s retreat at Magnolia House. Usually, she books the fancy resort on the bay, just out of town. She says there’s more room to spread out. This time, she said she wanted to stick a little closer to home and that it was Ashley who’d convinced her. She appreciates her positivity. She thinks Jester Falls could sure use a dose of that, but I think what she really meant was me. I could use a little of that charm. And who knows? If it’s that easy to earn bookings, I may just give it a shot.
Ashley finds me as I’m cleaning up outside. The reception has ended, the bride and groom have retreated to their suite, and the rest of the family is hanging out in the parlor. “Ruth?” she calls out.
She says it as though I frighten her, as though I may bite. I finish clearing beer bottles from a table. Then I glance over my shoulder, brows raised. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“Do you have a second?”
I scoop trash into an open bin, so I don’t answer right off. I’m expecting that she’ll notice the cleanup job I have in front of me. It will be several hours before I get to sit down and rest my weary feet. It’s naïve of me to think that Ashley will notice anything outside of her immediate needs, because not only does she go on, she doesn’t bother lifting a finger to help. “I wanted to apologize,” she says. “For what happened with Davis.”
I clear a second table and move on to the next. She does not give up. She stays tight on my trail. “I know you don’t like me, Ruth. And I just want to say… I’m sorry about whatever I might have done to make you feel this way.”
It’s hard to imagine, looking at her now, the way she is groveling about, that just an hour or so ago, people were beside themselves trying to get next to her. It was fascinating to watch, albeit rather annoying, the way she drew them to her like a magnet. Effortlessly, like she was the sun, and we were all just orbiting around her. It was really something to see. The men, of course, were particularly mesmerized, although with looks like
hers, that was to be expected. The women, though. Well, that was surprising for Jester Falls. To say they typically aren’t welcoming is not an exaggeration. They’re polite, yes. This is a tourist town, after all. But it’s not an easy in with the locals. This is a tight-knit community. They don’t allow just anyone into their inner circles, and even when they do, they don’t exactly embrace them with open arms. There’s a bit of proving oneself that has to take place. There’s a trial phase, and then you’re either in or you’re out. And trust me, you don’t want to be out. Not if you have to stick around. It reminds me of my sorority days; it’s what pledging was like.
The women in this town, well, socially, they never really mature much beyond that.
So when Ashley comes to me with an apology, fake as it may be, I decide to accept it. Perhaps there is something to be learned here. I don’t know what that something is, but I feel the lesson the way you sense a thunderstorm is on the horizon. It’s in the air. Change is coming, and I’ve got to hang on for the ride.
She backs up against the table so that she’s between me and the job I’m supposed to be doing. She clears her throat. “I know you haven’t particularly taken to me, but I was hoping we could be friends.”
It’s pitiful the way she looks at me. Not even the little brat next door was this pathetic. The most irritating thing about it all is not only is she keeping me from finishing my job, it’s that Ashley Parker does not need me to like her. Everyone else has already placed their vote.
“I mean…” She flashes a shy smile. “We are going to be sisters soon enough.”
“That’s right,” I say, as though I am just remembering their engagement. “About that? When does school start back? You have to return…when…after Labor Day?”
“September, yes. But Davey and I have been talking, and I’m not sure I’m going to be going back.”
And there it is. The thunderstorm I felt coming.
“I was thinking, actually, that maybe I could help out around here.”
“And what would you do?” My question is meant to be sarcastic, because she’s literally standing around chit-chatting while sweat drips from my brow. But she doesn’t see it. I doubt Ashley Parker has ever seen a hard day’s work.
“What would I do? Oh, I don’t know,” she tells me with a shrug. “Anything you need me to, I guess. Wouldn’t it be nice for you to have a break? Perhaps you could focus on something else for a while. Davey and I could step up to the plate and handle things for a bit.”
“Or—maybe my brother could go back with you. He’s always talked about getting out of Jester Falls…he really has no interest in managing the day to day stuff around here. He never has.”
Her face twists in a way that says she’s skeptical. “You might be surprised.”
I finish filling the trash bag I’m holding and then go in search of the box that contains the rest of them. Ashley follows me like a lost puppy. When I spot the box, I grab two bags, toss one at her, and say, “I forgot, where did you say you’re from?”
“New Orleans.”
“Ah, that’s right.” I motion toward the bag in her hand and the tables that are still left to clean.
She takes a deep breath in and then slowly lets it out. It’s as though she’s rehearsing in her mind what to say next. “I know you’re angry at Davey over what happened tonight. And I know he feels terrible, even if he won’t admit it. But you didn’t hear the things that guy said to me. Terrible things. I realize now that I should have let it go… Sticks and stones will break my bones and all. But still.”
“Still what?”
For a split-second, she looks taken aback. Her hand flies to her chest where red splotches have crept up, and I realize her tell when she’s angry. “You know what I think?”
