AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"So you're going to just take them on a White House tour?" Olive asks with a touch of sarcasm. "Take them for lunch at the National Cathedral School?" she says, mentioning the private girls' school that they both attended, along with the daughters of nearly every politician in Washington. Olive shoots her sister a look. "Come on, Cam. There will be things you leave out with your kids. Mom probably has her reasons."
"I do," Sunday says, picking up her cue. "And they're damn good ones." With this, she stands up and walks over to the small window above the kitchen sink. It has the same view as the windows from the mud room, though now that the sun has sunk halfway into Chesapeake Bay, the autumn half-light has changed from a warm gold to a thin, watery yellow.
"I want to hear everything," Olive says, watching her mother from the chair at the table. "I'm here with an open heart, Mom."
Cameron sighs audibly. "Always the overachiever," she says, shaking her head with pity. "It's obvious that you've got a complex, Ol."
Olive turns to her sister with a hard frown. "A complex about what?"
"Being adopted, probably."
"Oh, that's rich. Like you aren't adopted."
"Yeah, but I'm fine with it. You're always trying to prove something."
"Like what?" Olive asks, looking and sounding as offended as she should look and sound in the face of this kind of accusation.
"I have no idea, because I've accepted my reality." Cameron looks out the window with a haughty expression. "I have no idea who my parents are, and the people who adopted me are semi-strangers."
"Cameron!" Sunday sucks in a sharp breath. She instantly starts to cry, turning her back to the girls as she faces the sink and the window. She hadn't meant to burst into tears.
Olive stands up sharply, pushing her chair back as she walks over to their mother. "Hey, Mom," she says, putting her arms around Sunday and resting her chin on her mother's shoulder as she hugs her from behind. "Cam's just working through stuff. Ignore her."
Sunday shakes her head, her chin falling to her chest. "I can't ignore her, babe. She speaks the truth, even if it isn't a truth I like hearing."
They stay like this, together in the kitchen but in their separate spaces, silently letting their reality sink in. Cameron rests her chin on her hand, elbow on the table, watching her mom and sister; Olive holds her mother, not wanting to let her go; Sunday keeps her back to her girls, aware that they trulydon'tknow her yet, but fearing that when they do, they may not respect or love her at all.
She pulls herself together, wiping at her eyes and nose before she breaks free of Olive's grasp and turns to face them both. "Get your coats, girls. We're going out. It's time for you to meet your mother."
Ruby
Dexter is waiting in the lobby of Ruby's hotel again that evening, cooling his heels at the bar as she slips on one pair of ballet flats, deems them all wrong, and tosses them on the floor behind her. In a hurry, she slips on her ankle boots again and yanks off a soft pink sweater, exchanging it for a tight black one that hugs her body and ends at the waistband of her tight jeans. Ruby stands before the full-length mirror in the bathroom, turning from side to side; she actually looks good. This will work. Her strict schedule of running and working out have fallen by the wayside during her time on Shipwreck Key, and while her toned physique has softened a bit, the sun has kissed her shoulders, nose, and forehead, leaving her with a golden glow and strands of bright blonde woven through her hair.
She's about to text Dexter and let him know that she's coming when her phone chimes with an incoming email. Ruby tosses a red lipstick into her crossbody bag and slips on a cropped leather jacket, then flicks the message open, skimming it. It's from Etienne Boucher. She drops her purse on the floor and the lipstick rolls out. Ruby sits heavily on the foot of the bed, holding her phone in her hand.
Ruby--
I waited a few months before reaching out to you because I wanted to give you some space, but we need to talk. It will be uncomfortable, and yet, it is necessary. Jack has always taken care of Julien financially, and he had set up a life insurance policy with Julien as the main beneficiary, however I am now unable to collect on it.
When Jack died, the world believed it was an accident, and an accident would be fully covered under this policy. I had very nearly finished the paperwork to collect the funds when you revealed to the world that he had, in fact, taken his own life. Because of this, the policy was denied. I now have no recourse and no help in raising Julien.
As Jack's legal wife, your life and your future are not in question. Ours is. Can we talk?
Etienne
Ruby's hand goes slack and her phone falls against her thigh. This was not a message she ever wanted to receive, and reading it here, in New York where she's already up to her eyebrows in the minutia of her marriage and of Jack's duplicitous life choices, feels like yet another pound of heavy weight that she'll have to carry.
With a sigh, she stands up, bends to pick up her purse and the lipstick, and shoves everything into the bag, zipping it. She calls Banks from her room phone to tell him that she’s ready to head out, then turns out the light and heads to the lobby.
* * *
Dexter, who had parted ways with Ruby on Broadway after their trip to Fort Tryon Park that afternoon, is waiting for her at the bar. His elbows are resting on the sleek wood in front of him, and he's nursing a bourbon on the rocks.
"Get you one?" he offers, holding up his highball glass.
Ruby sinks onto the stool next to his. "I shouldn't drink this evening. I'll just get sloppy and sentimental, and I want to stay focused for your questions. I need to give you what you're looking for, not a heaping mess of ‘Ruby stuff’ to untangle."
Jack downs the last sip of bourbon and sets the glass on the counter. "I'm a master at untangling stuff, but I hear you. I don't want you to say anything you don't want to tell me." He stands, opens his wallet, and leaves a twenty on the counter. "I've got plans for us this evening. Shall we?"
