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Chapter Twenty-Four
Passerby
A gentle shove down the stairs was all it took. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. I don’t usually go around taking down old ladies, but this one had it coming to her. And really, she was going to die before too long anyway, so why not save her the trouble of losing her looks, her hearing, and her mind beforehand. You wouldn’t let fruit sit and rot away on your kitchen counter. Why let a human go through that experience?
Wouldn’t it be better to go out on a good day doing what you love?
Except, and this is my one regret, it wasn’t a good day for her doing what she loved. It was just like every other day: her cleaning up after other people, her taking care of other people’s messes and doing it all with a fake smile plastered on her face. Tell me, what kind of person would want an existence like that?
So, you see, time was of the essence. She should have kept her mouth shut. What is it with people in this day and age that they simply cannot mind their own business? Let it be known: meddling only leads to trouble and in the end that’s exactly what she got.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ruth
“She is not who you think she is,” I say to Davis after storming the guest house. Thankfully, he’s alone. I have just spoken with Julia’s family at the hospital, and it was the third worst thing I’ve ever had to do.
“Where is she, anyway?”
He looks up from his laptop. “She went into town.”
“Perfect.” She seems to go into town a lot now that Davis has gotten her a rental car. “Because we need to talk.”
“Good evening to you, too.”
He says this to annoy me. We are not, nor have we ever been, the type of family to cower or to hide behind small talk. “It’s not a good evening. You could be over at the house helping out. Then it might be a good evening.”
“You’re in such a great mood, I’m just dying to be around you.”
“Half of that statement just might be true.”
He turns his attention back to his computer, and he tilts his chin in my direction. He doesn’t look at me, though. “What is it Ruth? What can I do for you?”
I smile. I’m really glad he asked. “You know what I find interesting?”
“No. But I’m certain you’re going to tell me.”
“Ashley—or is it Caitlyn?”
“It’s Ashley.”
“You sure about that?”
He looks at me then. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not sure of anything when it comes to her.”
“Get to the point, would you? I haven’t got all night.”
“What are you doing?” I ask this because I’m curious, but also, I have a right to know. Davis doesn’t really work. He’s what you might call a “dabbler.” He tries things, but he never sticks with them. Certainly not long enough to make any money, anyway. Mostly, he lives off distributions from the trust that our parents left for us. It’s a sore subject between the three of us, seeing that Johnny and I, we actually work for a living.
“Research. I’m thinking about getting into investing.”
This sounds like a terrible idea, but right now I’m trying to pick my battles, and it’s one of his other whims that I’m more concerned about at the moment.
“Ashley—she doesn’t seem to be the least bit worried about getting shot up and run off the road. Doesn’t that seem a little strange to you?”
“Not everyone lives their life in fear, Ruth. Not everyone is you.”
