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CHAPTER1
RUBY
Christmas, years ago…
“Typhoon Ruby strikes again…”Michael muttered from nearby, sticking out his tongue as he stood there with several of the other boys, looking over the mess she’d made.
This was just typical for her.
Ruby Merrick was gangly, tall, and clumsy as could be, trying to find her place… which obviously wasn’t here. Her brother looked forward to these Christmas gatherings at Flyboys. It always involved a mixture of pilots and old Army retirees that were weird, acting just as obnoxious as some of her ‘uncles’did… and their bratty children who were her friends.
Michael Griffin had to be the worst of the lot though.
The boy was snooty, a stick-in-the-mud, always looking down on her for every little thing, and this year was no better. No, this year was the first time she was actually allowed to be herself, to experiment with who she wanted to be, trying to find herself… and at twelve years old?
She had green hair.
Beautiful, dark, deep evergreen hair that looked lovely and prettier than she could have ever imagined over her mousy brown locks. Her mother had taken her to the store with her Aunt Glory, they had talked about colors, shades, bleach, and other things openly, making her feel like a grown-up woman… and that uppity Michael was stealing her confidence away.
That – and the fact that she knocked over the carafe eggnog onto the table, splashing it on the cookies, making them soggy.
Michael was a year older than her and annoying as could be. He was always commenting, snapping, or poking at her. Last year it was her pierced ears, asking her if she ‘chose to have holes put in her head on purpose’… this year, it was her hair.
“Did you lose a bet? It looks like an evergreen tree pooped on your noggin and then left jellybeans behind,” he’d said in front of Emmett and Luke, making them laugh.
“Maybe to an uncultured dweeb like you…” she snapped, turning around to walk off – and literally bumping into the table, which started this whole mess.
… And she was not going to cry!
Ruby looked at her mother, her father, and her Aunt Glory’s warm, sympathizing expression... and was grateful for her Daddy in so many ways – including now.
Her daddy, with all his gruffness and cool exterior, simply picked up a bowl and shoveled the wet cookies into it. He then grabbed a spoon and started eating at them like he was having a bowl of cereal, as the silence was heard around them.
“Thanks, baby,” her father said simply, and went on taking another bite as her mother looked at him with such open love that made her wish for the same for herself one day.
“Oh Ryan…” her mother said softly, touching the back of his neck as Ruby watched, taking in everything. “I love you so much.”
“That’s my baby girl,” he said simply, taking another bite of soggy Christmas cookies mixed with eggnog, smiling at her, before winking at Ruby. “Have fun tonight, sweetheart, and cookies are cookies – no matter how they are served.”
“If Michael would leave me alone – I would,” she growled, looking over her shoulder at him. “And my hair does not look like a tree pooped on it.”
“No,” her father said coolly, looking towards the trio of boys. “It looksbeautiful,festive, andfeminine… just like his mother Lily, Ruby’s Aunt Glory, or Miss Leia, all look tonight. Do any of them look like they have ‘poop’on them, Michael? Perhaps you should discuss your opinions of what people ‘look like’ this evening with your mother - since Christmas is theperfecttime to share ALL the knowledgeable thoughts of a thirteen-year-old boy who is soooo worldly in so many ways… eh, young man?”
“Ryan…” her mother chided softly, and Ruby couldn’t help the knowing smile that touched her own lips.
Her big, strong Daddy was telling off Michael Griffin in that silent way that only he could pull off – and sure enough, there went the eyebrow. One dark brow lifted as he looked at the trio of boys standing there awkwardly – and Ruby almost laughed.
She’d been the recipient of that ‘brow’ a few times, and knew when that happened the discussion was over – or someone was about to get grounded, grabbed by the scruff of their neck and dragged to a parent, or made an example of.
… But Michael didn’t know that.
Her father did not put up with ‘sass’… as he called it.
Michael stood there, silently meeting her father’s look coolly – without looking away except for the brief glance at her gloating face. If she didn’t see his Adam’s apple move, she wouldn’t have known he was worried or scared… and that gave it away.
Instead of quaking in his shoes, saying something stupid, or giving her a second glance… Michael did something smart for once.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Merrick,” he said quietly and nodded at her. “Ruby,” he said simply in acknowledgement, before looking at the other boys. “Let’s go find Julian, Brayden, and Caspar.”
