The Reunion

Ruby, Margo, Olivia, and Zan

Ruby decided to stay with Zan. “You go on ladies. You two have pressing issues at home. I’ve got sod all going on until after the New Year. I’ll look after our girl here for a few days—get her home and settled, get the fridge filled, feed her some fattening food. It’ll be brilliant.”

“I am so sorry, Zan,” Olivia said, “but if Family Services comes to visit me, to see how Matias and Mariella are doing, I must be there. They said they would call first and make an appointment, but that might happen at any time. You will be alright now, yes?”

“I will. I promise,” Zan said. “All I want is to get out of here. Margo, you go too. You’ve got a future daughter-in-law to impress. She must think you’re rude to just leave her like that.”

“Well, I explained it was urgent,” Margo said. “Ron and the boys have been doing a good job of showing her south Florida attractions, but if things are all sewed up here…”

Margo and Olivia took a taxi to Dulles. They embraced in the concourse, admitted relief that a crisis had been averted, promised to be better about staying in touch, and headed off in separate directions—one toward sunshine and palm trees, and the other to the windy city.

Ruby slept in the hospital recliner that night and roamed the halls when she couldn’t sleep, chatting up visitors and offering her brand of comfort to patients. In just one more day, the red tape was cleared, and in the afternoon Zan was discharged. They found Zan’s car and Ruby drove them home, Google maps and Zan guiding her.

They could hear the Three Musketeers’ impatient barking welcoming Zan home as they pulled into the driveway, and when Zan opened the front door, a white whirlwind of pure joy surrounded her, each dog trying to get petted. She sank down on the front stoop and let them nuzzle and whine and push each other to be closest to her. She wrapped her arms around them and calmed them with her words, “It’s okay, I know, yes, I know, I do. It’s okay, I love you, too,” tears running down her face.

Ruby watched, wiping a tear from her cheek, until the dogs were pacified enough to wander over and check her out. They were considerably less enthusiastic about her presence, but curious rather than wary, especially when Zan allowed herself to be pulled up and embraced by her friend.

“Gutted, they would ‘a been, wouldn’t they, if you hadn’t stuck around?”

Zan could only nod.

The dogs were nervous about the huge stuffed dog Ruby brought in, and it wasn’t until she put the thing into a spare bedroom and closed the door that they relaxed. Once that was done, they were all best buddies, enjoying Ruby’s willingness to throw a ball until they were worn out. The hallway went on forever, so they had plenty of room to run and knock each other about.

“If it weren’t for having to hoover every single day for the rest of my life,” Ruby said, “I’d fancy having a dog. One dog. They can be quite entertaining can’t they?”

“And they don’t care about your portfolio.”

“Ah, good one. Alan may be history, mightn’t he? Unless he’s got a plan he didn’t share with me.”

“How did you leave it?” Zan asked.

“I told him I’d be gone a few days to help out a friend. I think I’ve seen the back of him.”

They went grocery shopping and bought foods Zan had never allowed herself. Ruby wouldn’t even let her read the labels. “No counting calories. You’re recovering,” she said as she added salted caramel ice cream and frozen pizza to the cart.

~~~

They discovered a mutual fondness for reality TV. The Great Race was their favorite.

“Trevor called it trash,” Zan said, enthusiastically eating home-popped popcorn generously topped with melted butter. They were sunk into the sofa in the TV room.

“Fuck him,” Ruby said.

“No thanks. Speaking of husbands, did I hear Margo say you went to your ex’s for Christmas dinner?”

“Yeah, mad as a bad of ferrets, aren’t I? But it was okay. Not disastrous, anyway. Went different than I thought. Poor Walt—got ganged up on by the women—present and past wives, teen-aged daughter, and there’s a little one now who seemed to enjoy teasing her dad. Had to be his worst nightmare, but he took it well. Never was that much of a good sport when we were married, but then bad things happened to us, didn’t they? Sad things. No cure for losing a child—changes you forever. Changed us, didn’t it.”

Zan sat up and looked at Ruby. “If I didn’t tell you at the beach, and I probably didn’t, I’m so sorry about your … about the accident. I can’t even imagine how you survived it.”

“Long time ago, wasn’t it? But thanks. And, well, you lost one, too. Makes no mind that she was just a wee one.”

“I did it on purpose, though, Ruby. Never even saw her.”

“So what? She’s real now, isn’t she? Here you are, you get a second chance. You get to find out what having a daughter is like. And to be a grandmother. They say that’s heaven. Don’t be daft, girlie. Soak it up, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see.”

~~~

The next morning over breakfast, Ruby said, “You do know I’m not leaving here until you get in touch with her, don’t you? Either ring her up or send her a bloody email. This is too important. I’ve only got the one, Reggie, and I’ve made a shitload of mistakes with her, but still. Mother-daughter relationships are probably the most complicated of all relationships. But also the most rewarding. You can’t let this go.”

“So that’s why you stayed? To badger me into calling Anne?”

“You bet your knickers. And to play with these doggies. And to see to it that you eat real food. I saw all that green glop you stuffed down the disposal. Nothing ever edible there, I’m thinking.”

“Well, you might just be here a while, shiksa.”

On the twenty-ninth, Ruby went with Zan to her therapy appointment. In the waiting room Ruby read the latest Psychology Today magazine. She was silent on the drive back home and Zan gave her a questioning look. “Article about dealing with anxiety. Suggested learning to embrace uncertainty. Going to try that, I am.“

The next day Ruby sat in on the survivor’s support group, claiming that in her line of work as a financial planner with ‘a bunch of Neanderthals’, she knew more than she ever wanted to know about sexual harassment and coercion. “Testosterone is fucking lethal,” she offered. The leader of the group gave up on banning profanity.

That evening, over Stouffer’s lasagna, Zan said, “You never really liked me all that much, did you, Ruby?”

“I couldn’t get a read on you, love. Felt like you removed yourself from us. I believed you thought you were better somehow—what with your rich husband, your mansion, and your perfect figure. Just my projection, I think, and my envy.”

“Envy?”

“Seemed to have it all, didn’t you? I mean, I knew you had some work done, but that just ticked me off. It was like, ‘what, looking as old as us isn’t good enough for you’?” I was wrong.”

“Not really. I was proud of looking the best. I thought it was all I had, my looks. Empty insides, so at least I could do something about the outside. Not let it show any cracks.”

“If it’s any comfort, I’ve changed my mind. I’m glad you didn’t off yourself.”

“We’re bonding here, right?”

“Seems bloody so.”

~~~

On New Year’s Eve day Zan composed an email to her daughter. Ruby sat beside her and helped her with the wording. It took over an hour and a lot of discussion. “I don’t think ‘delighted’ sounds at all like me,” Zan complained.

“Well, how about just ‘happy’?” Ruby looked at Zan. “You’re gonna have to practice that smile of yours if you’re going to call yourself happy.”

“Up yours,” Zan said. “How about ‘sincerely pleased’?”

“How about ‘floored’? ‘Tickled pink’?”

It went on like that until they settled on a draft Zan could live with. A few glasses of wine, several snack breaks, lots of deletes, and they had a draft. Neither one of them were spelling experts, so spell-check had come in handy. When they finally finished, they sent it first to Olivia, then texted her so she’d read it right away.

Olivia’s text came back.

It strikes just the right note: Zan’s excitement at hearing from Anne as well as her regret that she had not been a part of her daughter’s life and her desire to meet her. No explaining or apologizing, just welcoming the contact. Very nicely done, you two. I only made a few punctuation corrections and one verb tense fix.

Zan pulled the corrected draft back up, copied and pasted it onto her email, and hit ‘send’. “Before I change my mind.”

That night They sat in front of the TV and watched the ball drop together and toasted the beginning of the new year with prosecco, baked brie, and truffles. “Maybe I’ll try one of those bloody dating sites,” Ruby said. “Think they have ‘em for gorgeous but barmy middle-aged ladies?”

“Just make sure you warn them about salty language in your profile.”

Ruby made reservations to fly back to Miami on the third of January. They picked up the mail on the way out the driveway and learned that Trevor had filed for divorce. The house was Zan’s. As Zan drove, Ruby read the proposal aloud and said, “He probably felt like a fucking wanker—leaving you like that. Which, if he did, it’s a good thing, because this here, it looks pretty generous to me.”

“Never knew Trevor to feel guilty—or anything else like empathy for anybody else,” Zan said. But she agreed to all his terms.

~~~

Early in February, Zan found a buyer. She sent emails to her friends.

If you want to come enjoy the multiple rooms and great view, you better make plans to be here within the next forty-five days. Because after the closing, I’m moving to a cabin in the country where I can have a garden and where the beasts can run to their heart’s content. Hugs, Zan

It was the first week of March by the time Ruby, Margo, and Olivia were able to coordinate a visit.

~~~

“It’s certainly huge,” Margo said, “Imposing, I’d say.”

“Bloody castle, isn’t it?” Ruby asked. “Never runs out of closets.”

“More like a prison,” Zan said.

They got into comfortable clothes—sweats and flannel—and gathered in the conversation pit. It featured a modern freestanding fireplace that Zan lit with a remote control device.

“Did anyone ever sit here?” Margo asked. “The furniture looks brand new.”

Zan was carrying a platter of food and shook her head. “My soon-to-be ex-husband read his journals down here in front of the fireplace, but you three are the only invited guests to use it. This would be a good party house. I hope the next owners like to entertain.”

“Maybe they’ll hire you to cater,” Ruby said. “Everything looks divine.”

“You just have to know where to shop,” Zan said.

They were snacking on bite-sized Maryland crab cakes, sipping frozen Margaritas, and making appreciative noises. As Zan brought the second blender-full down the five stone steps and set it on the glass-top table, she said, “Margo, I missed you telling the story about your older son’s Christmas visit with his fiancée. Jon, right? Did you like her? I think you were worried about her reaction to Ron’s coming out—”

“Well, blimey, she had nothing to react to, did she?” Ruby interrupted. “Came to their senses, they did. Decided, thanks to their youngest kid Bobby, to allow the adults some privacy. Nobody’s fucking business, was it?”

“I liked her, Jon’s fiancée.” Margo said, ignoring Ruby. “Patricia, her name was. Sweet girl.” She took a sip of the frozen drink and licked the pale green frost off her top lip. “Mm, brain freeze. Granted, the visit was interrupted because I took a day off to come see a friend in the hospital.” She looked at Zan, who smiled and bowed at the waist. “But we enjoyed their visit, Jon and hers. Talked a lot about the sumptuous wedding they were planning. It was over the top, and I was glad her parents were footing the bill. But, everyone got along. Even Bobby, my skeptic, seemed somewhat resigned, at least, to the fact that she might be his sister-in-law.”

“Well, good, then. Your fears were—”

“Wait, there’s more.” Margo said. She had taken a bite of food and held up one finger. “Mm, this is so good.” She swallowed. “They broke up. A week after they got back. Jon decided he didn’t want to work for her dad, and she was offended. Said if her dad wasn’t good enough for Jon, then neither was she.”

“Ain’t that a kick in the balls?” Ruby said.

“Was he upset?” Zan asked.

“Wrecked, he was,” interrupted Ruby. “Looked like a survivor of the zombie apocalypse. Bobby and I took him to a pub and listened to him cry in his beer. Speaking of, pour me a skosh more, would you?” She held out her glass to Zan.

Margo said, “It’s true, he was pretty shocked, and yes, Ruby and Bobby took him out to console him. I had clients that evening, and Ron had gone to North Carolina. Jon called, said he was coming home, crying even, told us what had happened, and I told Bobby he had to either stay home with his brother or include Jon in his evening with Ruby.”

“That’s what you do, isn’t it?” Ruby asked. “You listen to their sad stories. Commiserate with ‘em, these young lads. And then get ‘em plastered, ‘course. Bobby had to hold Jon’s head when he honked up his guts.”

“By that time I was home,” Margo said, “but no way I wanted anywhere near that—”

“Ruby,” Zan asked, “why were you and Bobby going out?” Then she turned back to Margo. “And why was Ron in North Carolina?”

“Oh, you didn’t know, did you?” Margo said. “I guess I didn’t want to call here after  … especially not with this. I told Olivia.”

“She did,” Olivia said.”

“So tell me now,” Zan said.

“He’s going to London, Bobby is—well, all over England, actually. Could be even farther.” She held up crossed fingers. “Hope not. He’s going to hike and cycle and take trains. Starting there, anyway, in the city, and he wanted some insider tips from his Aunt Ruby.”

“Don’t be shocked, girls, but I’ve arranged with my mum for Bobby to use my parents’ home as a base to travel from—they’re excited to have him, and my brother’s got two kids about Bobby’s age, so they’ll be a help, too.”

Olivia sat up. “Does this mean that you and your family are reconciling?”

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself, pet. I’m opening the door is all. Trying, aren’t I? The accident will always be a sore spot, you know? Like a bad tooth you can’t keep your tongue off of. But I’m working on letting go. Embracing my anxiety. Anyway, Bobby and I didn’t get to chat much about the U.K. that night. We had to give over the evening to poor jilted Jon. I told him, looking closely at it, there was something off about that father-daughter relationship. If she was already picking her dad over Jon, it didn’t bode well for their future together. He was well shut of her.”

“And did that work?” Zan asked.

“A course not. Not yet anyway. He’s still knackered, but he can’t take it back, can he? And I don’t think he would if he could. From what he said about his fiancée’s dad, bloody hell. He sounded like a tyrant. Not battin’ with a full wicket, that one.”

Zan nodded to Margo. “And Ron? Why was he in North Carolina?”

Margo added, “Oh, he was gone because his dad had a heart attack, so he went to help his mother. He was gone four days. About all he can ever take. But his dad’s recovering nicely.”

Zan took the empty blender into the kitchen and Olivia followed with the plates, so Margo pulled Ruby up and they followed and perched on stools at the center island.

“And, you, Margo?” Olivia asked. She was placing the empty plates into the dishwasher. “Do you remain satisfied with your decision to stay with your husband?”

“For now,” Margo said. “We have an agreement. It’s one day at a time.”

“And you are comfortable not telling the boys?” Olivia asked.

“I’m … okay with it. Surprised myself. Of course, if they find out on their own—”

“She’ll cross that bloomin’ bridge when she comes to it.” Ruby added.

“So, Ruby,” Zan said, “Did the sailor ever come around?” She was smiling, waiting for Ruby to correct her. It was a natural smile, and looked good on her.

“Nice one, Zan, but no, Alan remains persona non grata. Not as gutted as I should’ve been. Probably tells me something. Lost the plot on that one, didn’t I? What a cock up it would’ve been. I’ve jolly well replaced him with a dog. Not told a soul yet.”

“What?” They said in unison.

“Older dog, older like me. Found her at the no-kill shelter. No one wanted her. We hit it off right away.”

“What’s her name?” Zan asked.

“Betty. We go for strolls. She’s a great listener. And she lives quite well with uncertainty.” She was smiling.

“Who’s taking care of her while you’re gone?” Zan wanted to know.

“Bobby is. Margot’s Bobby. He offered, and rather than board her … they’ve become great friends.”

~~~

They took a walk around the lake and waved to the neighbors. The dogs ran ahead, but one kept coming back to check that Zan was still there. “It’s okay, Aramis,” she said.

“You can really tell them apart, can’t you?” Margot said.

“Sure,” Zan answered. “They have totally different personalities.”

The women walked fast to stay warm, and Ruby was breathing hard. “This you do every day, do ya? Now that you’re better?”

“I do,” Zan said. “This little lake isn’t the Atlantic, but it’s the best thing about this place. It’s the only thing I’ll miss, actually.”

The friends all wanted to know about Zan’s recent visit from her daughter, but they waited to ask, not wanting to intrude. It was nearly sunset, and even though it was chilly, everyone sat on the deck, wrapped up in blankets, where they could watch the sun go down over the lake. The dogs were stretched out around them and one or another was close to where Zan was at all times. Her hand had drifted down and touched white fur, and the recipient’s tail thumped contentedly.

“If you don’t want to talk about it—” Margo said.

“No, no, I do. I’m glad Anne came—now I’m glad, anyway. I was pretty nervous after I sent my email—our email. Group effort.” She nodded to Ruby and Olivia. “And I didn’t hear from her for almost a week. But when I did, she wanted to come meet me right away. I told you all that. Well, I told Olivia and asked her to tell you.”

“She did, but we didn’t want to pry,” Margo said. “It was an emotional time for you, and…”

“And you’re afraid for me, right?” Zan asked. “You don’t have to be. I’m not fragile, Okay? Not any more.”

There were murmurs of assent.

Zan went on. “Actually, she’s … terrific.” She was stroking the dog, probably without even knowing it. “I was … worried because her original letter was so beautifully written, and her spelling and grammar were perfect. Her email, too. Ruby knows best—I’m not so good with all that stuff. Besides, she sounded so nice. Nothing bad has ever happened to her. I kept thinking, what if she saw me—saw into the ugliness.”

“You’re not—” Margo said.

“Hush, woman, let her talk.” Ruby said. She and Margo were sitting in the double lounge together sharing a blanket.

Zan went on, “She was great. She showed me pictures of her adoptive parents; I didn’t remember what they looked like at all. And of course she had photos of her boyfriend. He’s Jewish, and she was surprised to find out she’s half Jewish—surprised and happy. Had to call him and tell him. We’ve continued to email, and now they’ve set a date to get married. She wants me to come to the wedding—in Arizona—and meet the whole family. It’s in November.”

“Brilliant,” Ruby said.

“Sounds delightful,” Olivia said.

“Yeah? Well, it scares the crap out of me.” All those classy people. But, all in all, now that I’ve met her, I feel—glad I didn’t die.”

“Zan,” Margo said. “I hope you know how grateful we are that you’re still with us.”

“I do. I think I do, anyway. You guys, your friendship, it made such a difference. I guess I didn’t know—and to see how much you cared—” Zan’s voice thickened with unshed tears, and Olivia reached over and took her hand. Margo and Ruby held hands, too. Margo handed Ruby a tissue from her pocket. They all waited.

“I’m never going to be not broken inside” she said, taking a big breath. “There is ugliness in there. Put there by a member of my own family.” She paused and they waited in silence. “But these days, and probably for the rest of my life, I’m gonna fight it. I’m trying to channel the person I needed—the person I wish had been there to protect me when I was being … hurt. The mother I wish I’d had. In other words, you all. Do I sound like an inspirational poster for a survivor’s group?”

“You sound like the friend we wish we’d known better,” Margo said.

“Your daughter is lucky to have found you,” Olivia said.

“I think I’m the lucky one, but I’ll work on that attitude. Here, I have a recent photo.” Zan pulled her phone out of a pocket, scrolled through it, found what she was looking for, and passed it to Ruby first. It was a shot of two beautiful young people, arms around each other, a petite blonde with an impish grin and a compact, darker haired guy gazing at her and smiling as if he’d won the lottery. He had deep dimples.

“She’s a knockout—like you, Zan. And this bloke? He’s gorgeous, too,” Ruby said. “If I was younger …”

Margo nudged her with her elbow. “Ruby. Totally inappropriate.”

“You’re right. Talking rubbish, I am. Sorry, Zan. No more frozen drinks for me.”

“As if the frozen part is the problem,” Margo said. “How many did you have?” Ruby elbowed her back and passed the phone to Olivia, who said, “I saw it earlier. She’s lovely, and Ruby’s correct—she looks like her mother. And he is quite handsome.”

“Speaking of handsome,” Zan spoke up, “were you two aware that Olivia has a man in her life?”

“A bloke?” Ruby asked. “For real? A boyfriend? And this is the first I’m hearing it?”

“He is not my ‘boyfriend’,” Olivia said, blushing. “He is a friend. He is the officer who informed me of my sister’s arrest back in December. He was much help then. You will all be glad to know that last week I learned that I have been granted legal guardianship of Matias and Mariella.” She handed Zan the phone.

“Oh, Olivia, how great for you,” Margo said. “Bravo.”

“Have you chatted with your sister?” Ruby asked. “I know you were at sixes and sevens about how she would react.”

“I have, and she took the news better than I could have hoped. Izzy is contrite these days and says that what I am doing is for the best. I am unsure if she knows the gravity of my action, that she will have no legal standing in their lives, but I hope her good will lasts, for the children’s sake—and mine.”

“There’s sod all she can do about it,” Ruby said. “But wait, before we get too far off the beaten path, Let’s hear more about this new ‘friend’. What’s the skinny on him?”

“There is no ‘skinny’, girls. It is simply friendship. Because of Zeke’s kindness and his concern, he paid us a visit on the day we were decorating the tree, and I invited him to Christmas dinner. I did not think it the time to tel you in the hospital, but he came. He was there when …” She paused to look at Zan.

“I know. When you got my text about the dogs, right?”

“Yes.”

“And then what?” Ruby asked.

“Then, many neighbors came as well. And they all took to one another immediately. It was certainly festive, and he claimed he had never had such fun. He helped me with the phone calls I made, and he also drove me to the airport when I flew here to Maryland. Both times.”

“That’s some friend, Olivia,” Margo said.

“Yeah, I’m bloody well thinking you might be singing a different tune soon,” Ruby said.

Olivia smiled and raised one finger. “Speaking of singing, he has gone with me to a neighborhood karaoke place. He professes to like hearing me sing and has encouraged me to do so, even though he cannot understand what I am singing.”

“You’re singing in Spanish?” Ruby asked.

“I am. In my neighborhood there is a Cuban nightclub with karaoke night. I am singing Spanish ballads my abuela taught me. I decided, though, that I will sing in English next, and have been practicing some of our old eighties songs.”

“Are you serious about this man?” Margo asked.

“I am serious about everything, Margo, you know that. But I am having fun with Mr. Rivers—with Zeke. Both my niece and my nephew like him. That was necessary. And, he brings out the laughter in me—much as you three do. That is a good thing, is it not?”

“It definitely is,” Margo said.

“Fuckin’ A,” Ruby agreed.

About that time they caught a whiff of something cooking from a neighbor’s grill.

“Who’s hungry?” Zan asked.

The End

Zan

Olivia came back, bright and early, looking for all the world like she had when we first met. She came over to the bed, sat on the edge, and took my hand. I could see her examining my face with her beautiful dark eyes. I’d done a little washing up and makeup repair. “I made an effort to look a little more presentable for you.”

“You must realize, mi amor, that you do not have to do anything of the sort—for me or for anyone. You are a beautiful woman—inside and out. None of your efforts to change your looks are necessary.”

“Well, Olivia, in my world—”

“That is what I want you to please talk about. Can you tell me what it is in your world that led to this?”

I had no idea where to start. She could see that I was thinking about it, and I knew she’d never let me get away with a lie—not anymore. Besides it was time. “Okay, about the rape.”

“You told us about that…”

“Not the whole truth.” I paused and swallowed. “I deserved it.”

“Zan, please.” She stood up, walked a few steps, then turned, arms crossed over her chest. “No one deserves—”

“Just listen.” I patted the bed beside me, and she moved closer and dropped her arms but didn’t sit back down. “I never told anyone else this. He was—well, he had Paul Newman eyes and a shy smile. Looked like a Boy Scout all grown up. I was a mess, right? Coming home from a day of training. And he says, ‘Well, aren’t you beautiful?’ Trevor never says that.” I took a sip of water.

She perched at the edge of the bed. “Trevor is—”

I held up my hand to stop her from excusing my stupidity. “The guy carries my groceries in, then says something about how glad he is that not everyone in this world is suspicious. He calls the power company, or pretends to. Convinces me, anyway. I want to be convinced. I offer him some water. I guess I wasn’t anxious for him to leave. When I give the glass to him, he takes my hand, turns it over, and kisses my palm. Tender and soft. I wanted—”

“You must not blame yourself,” Olivia said. She looked so indignant and beautiful. I felt lucky she was on my side.

“How can I not?” I protested. “I was so … naïve. It happened so fast. He was so charming. Then he wasn’t.” I drank more water. I could see tears pooling in Olivia’s eyes while mine were dry. “I’ll never forget how his face distorted into the ugliest … and the things he said, the names he called me.” I shuddered with the memory, and Olivia squeezed my hand.

“For two years I kept hearing his voice, kept looking for him, even though I knew he was in prison. Kept waking up feeling as if someone was leaning over me, breathing on me.”

The curtain pushed back, and the nurse came in with a tray—mid-morning snack, I guessed. Or an early lunch. Breakfast, which happened before the sun came up, had been mush. This was hot tea, apple sauce, milk, a container of what looked like soup, and crackers. I guessed the orders were for my tender stomach to be pampered, but I wasn’t hungry anyway. Olivia insisted I drink some hot tea, and I got her to eat the crackers and soup before it got cold. She had fed the dogs but not herself before she left my house.

After we finished, I told her about Trevor, how he’d reacted at Mindy’s office. “What in the world allowed me to think my husband would be supportive? How’d I let myself get talked into telling him, even in my therapist’s ‘safe space’? He couldn’t’ve been any less compassionate. In fact, he was visibly sickened. It was obvious.”

“I feel some responsibility here, Zan. We all thought—”

“Well, Olivia, it made sense. You all saw that I wasn’t dealing with it, even after two years passed. Any normal person would think a husband’s support would be needed. But none of you knew him, and neither did Mindy. He looked at me as if he was disgusted with the sight of me.”

“He is not worthy to kiss your feet,” Olivia said. She was so passionate about it, while I felt nothing. “Is this ridiculous man the reason you—”

“No, he’s not. But, listen. Trevor leaves for the airport, probably never to be seen again, which is best, I know that, and I’m conflicted, right? He’s—well, I don’t want him back, but I’m afraid of being alone. I’m not suicidal over it, but I’m still afraid. Never been very long without a man to … assure me that I’m … I don’t know. Anyway, all new territory for me.”

“But you are so capable. You have skills. You do not need—”

“Don’t be an H.R. Director. Let me finish.”

“Yes, yes, I am sorry.” She made a zipping motion over her mouth.

“And then, in that frame of mind, I remember neither of us had gotten the mail in several days, and I think, ‘I should get the mail’. No idea why it even mattered. So, I walk to the mailbox. And then I open the letter. It’s freezing and I don’t feel it. Because my long-ago, given-up-for-adoption-at-birth baby daughter—the one I never told you or anyone about—has been looking for me, wants to meet me.”

“Oh, Zan, how wonderful. Such a gift. Why would you not want—?”

“Olivia, I can’t let her. In her world, I’d be a slut. I can’t even tell her who her father is. What do I say to her when she asks? Do I tell her I slept around, did too many drugs to remember? Oh, and do I tell her about my pedophile grandfather? The sexual abuse? My mother’s—her grandmother’s—complicity? What in God’s name could I say to her that would give her confidence in her genetic heritage? How can I excuse all my horrible choices, especially the one to abandon her?”

“You were young, Zannie. And—not in a good place. First you gave her life and then you gave her a chance at a better one than you could give her. That is such an unselfish thing. You didn’t leave her in a dumpster, for heaven’s sake. You found a good home for her. She is alive and free to pursue her dreams because of your generosity.”

“I sold her, Olivia. Same thing as. I got money for her.”

“Does that matter so much? Did you not ensure a more successful future by finding for her a family with means?”

“Whatever. All I knew is that they were ‘professionals’, married eight years trying to conceive with no success. Wanted to adopt rather than keep making themselves crazy.”

“They sound wise,” she said.

“Anyway, in my head, whenever I pictured her—Anne is her name now—which was a lot more often than I wanted to, she was still an infant.  A baby or a toddler at the oldest. Couldn’t imagine her all grown up. But, she’s so—her letter was eloquent, long and full of details, a couple of words I had to look up! She made her life into a story—for me.”

“Oh, Zan, I’m so happy for you.”

I wished I could make her see why knowing my daughter might meet me made me want to not be here any longer. “She’s engaged, and they’re talking about children. That led her to look for me. Olivia, she said both of her parents approved of the man she was betrothed to—that was the way she put it, ‘betrothed’. Who talks like that?”

“What does that matter? Did her parents support her search for you?”

“Yes, in Anne’s letter she said they did.”

“Then, they could not have thought so poorly of you—”

“They remembered nearly nothing about me. They only met me once. In the attorney’s office. Just that I was ‘pretty’ they told her, curvy, and blonde. She said she, too, was petite and blonde. And busty.”

“You, too—”

“Mine are artificial, Olivia. I thought you knew that.” She tried not to smile, but the look on her face was priceless. I chuckled, and then we both laughed. It felt good to laugh.

“I am sorry, Zan,” Olivia said. “That was unkind.”

“If you think that was unkind, honey, you’ve definitely led a sheltered life.”

“This is true. But I am still so confused. You have a daughter, Zan. Why did this news not fill you with joy?”

“Don’t get mad, okay? But here’s why: I’m—I’m such a phony. I am. Shh. Don’t protest. There’s Ruby, admitting to her guilt about the tragedy of Callie drowning. Practically opening her veins for us as she confesses. I was in awe of her. And then Margo, revealing that Ron’s gay and being ashamed she didn’t know it. Taking some of the blame. So self-aware. And you—so worried about your niece and nephew, willing to be honest about anger at your sister. If I remember right, you admitted you didn’t like her. Granted you loved her, but you didn’t like her. Am I right?”

“This is true.”

“Okay, so all of you, so unafraid to reveal your true selves, your flaws, your real fears and doubts. And then there’s me. Keeping everything to myself.  So afraid to expose my … inner self, I guess.  I’m such a fraud. Not an authentic bone in my body. I’ve never told the truth in my life if a lie wouldn’t serve as well. It was easier for me to not tell Trevor about being raped.”

“I don’t remember it being easy for you.”

“Maybe not, but my instincts were spot on, weren’t they? Once he knew the truth, he couldn’t take it.”

“Ruby would say—”

“I know. She would have some colorful names for him. But that doesn’t stop me from believing—”

“That you don’t deserve happiness? That is such nonsense.”

“You know at some level, way down deep, there’s a tiny voice that tells me you’re right. It is nonsense. You know why? Because of those silly dogs. They love me. They do. And their love makes me feel–worthy.” My throat closed up and I felt a sharp stab in the gut my gut with the truth of that statement.

“Then you must learn to listen to that voice.”

“But I don’t trust it! I’ve never believed—”

About that time, the curtain pulled all the way back and there they were—Margo and Ruby, grinning wildly. Ruby had a huge white stuffed dog in her arms and Margo a gorgeous bouquet of Calla lilies.

“Ta da!” Margo said. “Here we are. Like bad pennies–we keep turning up.” She paused. “What does that even mean?”

They brought fresh, floral air into the room and hugged me and then Olivia and then each other. Seeing them made me cry again, and then we all cried—and then laughed.

“How much did you hear?” I asked.

“Nothing, love,” Ruby said. She looked away.

“Enough,” Margo said. “We caught the gist of the plot. Let’s sing. Seems like music is in order.”

Ruby groaned. I was still wondering how much they heard of what I said to Olivia. If so, it didn’t feel as bad as I might’ve thought it would. In fact, I was glad.

“When can we break you out?” Ruby asked. “I hear you have a much posher residence than this dump.”

~~~

It wasn’t that easy. We found out that in Maryland attempted suicide is a common law crime. A person trying to take her own life in this state is—or can be—punished.

“Who knew you decided to move back to the thirteenth century when you came here?” Margo said.

“It’s a law in Virginia, too,” Ruby offered, checking her phone for details. “And here in Maryland, a former police officer suffering from PTSD was sentenced to two years’ probation and a suspended three-year prison sentence. That’s fucked up.”

It got quiet as my friends looked at each other and absorbed the seriousness of what I had done. I could go to jail, I thought. What will happen to the dogs, was all I could think of. And who will tell Zoe? Would she even understand? Who would take her to craft fairs? All of a sudden I knew I needed to be alive. There were people and animals who needed me. What had I done?

Then Ruby cleared her throat. “Blimey, how did we not see it? Clearly this here?” She indicated my hospital bed. “It’s a bloody mistake. Am I right? A real doozy?”

We all stared in confusion as Ruby went on, “You’re not barmy.” I figured that meant crazy. “A little dim—” I frowned, but nodded. When she was right, she was right.

She went on, “But you. Naturally, you never meant to off yourself. Fuck no. What rubbish.” She smiled at her own cleverness.

“Of course,” Margo said. It looked like she caught on to what Ruby was saying.

“You would never do anything like that. It would scare the bejesus out of your friends, wouldn’t it?”

“It definitely would do that,” Olivia said.

I had begun shaking my head ‘no’, and now nodded ‘yes.’ We all were. We looked like puppets.

“You would never leave the care of those ponies to some dodgy character. Or, worse yet, to fend for themselves.”

With those words, she tapped into my fear about them, and I started to cry, but Ruby kept on, “You were upset, sure. After all, it was Christmas. Who doesn’t hate Christmas? Brings out the worst in everyone. And then your husband—the arsehole—had just left to go back to who the hell knows. You didn’t even know where he was. That’s what you told the EMTs right? And you hadn’t been sleeping well. Needing meds to get to sleep at all. You drank some wine to settle your nerves. You took your normal dose of sleeping pills, but then you forgot you took ‘em.”

Now I could see where she was going. I was nodding harder.

“Lucky for you,” Ruby went on, “the dogs started making a racket and luckier still, the neighbors had a key. They panicked is all. Daft, weren’t they? Didn’t know what else to do but call 911, and that’s how you ended up here. A huge fuck-up, wasn’t it? Some black coffee would’ve been just the ticket. There was no blooming need for all this.” She waved her arm to include the room, the hospital, maybe the universe. With Ruby, who knew?

And that was what we sold to the doctor. Of course, he was aware of the law, and he wanted to be sold. My neighbors helped. Olivia called them, and they talked to the doc. Marlene said nobody was more stable than I was. No one less likely to attempt suicide. “So grounded in reality,” she said. Not that she knew me that well at all, but she’d been prompted by Ruby.

Mindy was a huge help. She spoke with the doctor, apparently let him know she would be there for me. She had a price, shameless shrink that she is. She made me sign a contract with her that I’d not only see her twice a week, but also that I’d keep up my survivor’s support group. She showed it to the doctor, all signed and witnessed by my friends.

It was a lot to get done in one day, but they did it. Then Margo and Olivia left for the airport. Both of them had pressing issues going on at home. Olivia with her custody issue and Margo had left her son’s fiancée for Ron to entertain. Ruby stayed. She slept in the reclining chair when she wasn’t wandering the halls striking up conversations with whoever she found awake.

In the end, the doctor agreed to call my trip to the emergency room an accidental overdose. Probably without the suicide law, he wouldn’t have. “You should get help, not be charged with a crime,” he said.

I’m not sure if it’s true or not, but he even told me that the dose in my stomach was borderline lethal, after all. I’d fallen into a deep sleep and couldn’t be roused. Left alone, I might have woke up. Might.

I’d never be sure what cinched the final decision, but I was told I’d been released—to Ruby, of all people. She told them she was my cousin. She had definitely made her presence felt. I was pretty sure they wanted her gone by any means possible. I was happy to oblige. My puppies needed me.