Olivia

Why is it true that when you need things to go well, when you have little energy left for disruption, that is when such trouble strikes? That was how it happened for me after I landed back in Chicago following my three-day getaway with my friends. Much had taken place at home while I was away, and none of these things was I prepared for.

Believing I would be greeted by my niece, nephew, and Mrs. B., I was alarmed to see, as I pulled my car into the driveway, that my headlights shone instead on a stranger—a man. He was dressed professionally with a suit but no overcoat, and a loosened tie. It had grown quite cold, and he was leaning against Mrs. Baumgarten’s car with his hands tucked under his armpits.

The stranger lifted his hand to shade his eyes as he stepped toward me. I was wary and did not turn off my car’s engine, and he seemed to understand my concern. He raised his hands in the air, backed up a step, and said, “I’m sorry, Ms. Santana, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He removed his wallet and showed me a police badge. “I need a few minutes of your time.” His voice registered a southern tone, he was shivering, and I could see his frosty breath.

My nephew’s car was missing, and it was then that I began to worry. Was this officer here to tell me something about Matias? Was he in trouble? Was he hurt? I pushed the button to allow my window to roll down and felt a blast of cold air. “Is something wrong with my nephew?” I asked.

“No, ma’am, not that I know of. It’s your sister.” He lowered his voice. “She’s alright, but she’s been arrested. My name is Ezekiel Rivers. I’m a detective with Chicago P.D.”

Mrs. Baumgarten stood at the back door with a phone in her hand, so I put my window back up, turned off my motor, and stepped from the car. “Perhaps we should go into the house. First, I need to ask Mrs. Baumgarten where Matias is at this time.” I lifted my bag from beside me in the front seat.

“Of course,” he said. “May I help you with your luggage?”

“I am fine, Mr. –Officer Rivers, thank you.”

As the policeman held the door open for me, I could see a cross on a chain around his neck. I was aware that my friends would tell me this was not proof that he was trustworthy, but it comforted me.

Once inside the warm house, I learned that Matias had notified Mrs. B that he would be late, that he was studying with a classmate. Mariella was in her room having eaten her supper. I could hear my niece’s voice in animated conversation on her phone. Her bedtime was near, but she was safe.

Mrs. Baumgarten was wary but polite to our guest. She looked to me for permission before she spoke. “Would you care for some water or a warm beverage, sir?” She asked.

He declined graciously, even as he shivered. “I appreciate it ma’am.” He spoke with a soft voice. In the light I could see that his clothing was neat, and his face bore scars, I assumed from a severe case of adolescent acne.

She told me reluctantly of my dinner in the oven. “Olivia, I made mac and cheese at the children’s request. It’s still warming in the oven, if you’re hungry…”

“Thank you so much my dear friend. You are so kind to me—”

It was then, with relief, that we heard Matias’s car pulling to the side of the driveway.

In fear, I looked to the officer. “He is sixteen.” I said. “Must you tell him your news just yet?”

“No ma’am, but I will need to talk to you about it.”

“Yes, of course. I understand.”

When Matias entered the house, he hugged me. “I’m glad you’re home safely from your trip,” he said. His cheek was cold. Then, with surprise, he noticed the stranger.

“Matias, this is Mr. Rivers.” I made no further explanation.

The officer stepped forward, and they shook hands.

Quickly Matias remembered his manners. “Nice to meet you, sir.” Then he turned to me. “I’m sorry, Aunt Olivia. I didn’t mean to worry you. I told Mrs. B—”

“It is alright, dear. She told me, and you are here now.” I touched his cold face. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, Auntie, I had dinner at my friend’s.” In his eyes I could see the lie.

“May I be excused?” Matias said.

I agreed, he nodded to Mr. Rivers, said good-bye to Mrs. Baumgartner, and went to his room with his head down and his backpack hanging from one arm.

I was concerned for my neighbor. “Mrs. B, you must go home to your family now. It is late. I am sorry to keep you.”

She gave Officer Rivers a side glance, and whispered to me, “Are you sure …”

“We will be fine,” I said.

After I heard her car start up, to Mr. Rivers, I said, “It has been a long day—for both of us, I suspect. I am thinking that Mrs. B’s leftover mac and cheese would taste good to me right now, and it will dry out if it is not eaten soon. Are you sure you cannot join me? She always makes more than we can eat.”

“I shouldn’t, but if you’re sure you’ll have enough, I am right fond of macaroni and cheese.”

“You may take off your suit coat, Officer Rivers, if you would be more comfortable.”

“I’m armed, ma’am. I’m on duty and must wear my service weapon. That makes most people nervous. Besides, if your nephew comes back downstairs, well, I’ll leave it on.”

When I served us in my kitchen, he waited for me to sit. Then he bowed his head and said a silent blessing, making the sign of the cross. In my mind I could hear Ruby’s voice, warning me that religious people, even those with good manners, were not always what they seemed. I told her to be silent.

When he took his first bite of Mrs. Baumgarten’s food, he exclaimed, “This is great. What’s different about it?”

“Mrs. B prefers only the best cheeses—several kinds—and heavy cream. It is her secret recipe. The children beg her to make it for them.”

“I can see why. Gosh, this is good.”

He had good manners, but he ate with enthusiasm. I had thought I would be hungry, but his news left me with little appetite. Soon, the officer’s bowl was empty. I started to collect the dishes, but he stood.

“May I?” he asked, reaching his hand for my bowl.

I nodded my assent, and he carried both of our bowls to the sink, ran water in them, and said, “Thank you again, Miss Santana. Awful kind of you.” Then he turned to face me. “Do you want the details now, ma’am?”

“Yes, Officer Rivers, I suppose I do, even though I do not. But let us go into the living room. If we speak softly, it will be more difficult for the children to hear from that room.”

We sat on the sofa. This was frightening for me. I was wishing I had a glass of wine, but I knew that would make a bad impression on the police officer.

“Go ahead.” I said. My voice was calm, but my insides were not.

“Okay, I’m sorry, again, but here’s what happened: your sister was buying drugs from a dealer who was under surveillance, and she got caught up in the bust.” He shifted in his seat and I could hear the squeaking sound of leather. His demeanor was sympathetic, for which I was grateful. “She was in possession of cocaine when she was arrested.”

“So, it is serious, yes?” Tears were forming in my eyes.

“Yes, ma’am. Unlike cannabis, cocaine and heroin offenses are much more so. This is her first arrest, so that’ll play a role in how severe the ultimate consequences will be.”

“And that is a good thing?”

“Well, better than if she was a repeat offender, but still, make no mistake: she’s committed a felony. It’s all on video. I watched it. She ingested some, but still had possession of almost one gram, which makes it a class four felony and a mandatory one-to-three year prison sentence. Possession of more than that could carry a sentence of up to fifteen years, so in some ways she got lucky.”

I was suddenly feeling assured by his words. This terrible thing had happened, but as Margo had said, ‘nobody died’. I had feared this day would come, and now it had, and her children were safe. I took a breath to calm myself.

“Why did she not ask to call me?” I asked.

“I can’t say, ma’am. That’s one reason I’m following up.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, she was entitled to a phone call. She had no I.D. on her and wouldn’t give up her name, but she’d been observed not only exchanging cash for the drugs, but also handing over a laptop.”

“It was the one I gave her?”

“Probably so, ma’am. Because the computer revealed her identity as well as yours. When we advised her of what we knew, she told us you were her sister, but that we should tell Family Services that her kids were here with you because you weren’t their legal guardian.”

“She wanted the authorities to be advised?” I felt shocked at this news. Heat prickled my skin.

“Yes ma’am.” He paused, perhaps waiting for me to absorb what he had said.

“Go ahead.”

“By law, the young’uns should be referred to Family Services, Miss Santana.”

“And that is what my sister wanted for them? That they be taken from me and put into foster care?” I could not disguise my anger, and my hands were shaking.

“It seems so. But you have to realize how impaired she was. I watched her try to snort as much as she could before she was detained. I feel I have to tell you, she made accusations that you were not a citizen, as well.”

“Are you here to verify this?” My voice rose and I had to fight to speak more softly. I was aware that the children were just upstairs.

“No, ma’am, I’m not.” He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “My background check confirmed your long-time employment with Drakos and that you have no record—”

“I have a copy of my birth certificate—” I started to stand and go to my desk.

He put up his hand. “That’s not my job, Miss Santana. Besides, I believe you. Please don’t concern yourself. Nobody listens to accusations bein’ made by an impaired person at a time like that. When she’s right in the head, she may have a totally different story. She may even forget what she said. Or she might be sorry as can be. But either way, I felt an obligation to let you know.”

“I thank you for that, sir. My sister—my half-sister—well, we have experienced her relapses several times. Her children have their own rooms in my home and have lived with me and especially with my grandmother when she was alive—” I could not finish. My voice was quavering with outrage at my sister’s betrayal as well as grief over the loss of my abuela. I did not want to cry in front of this man.

Zeke Rivers began, “I’m sorry—”

I took a breath. “Please, I must explain. We have all been through so much with my sister. So many irresponsible behaviors. But lately she seemed better. It had been over two years—since—” I paused to gather my thoughts. “And now she has been arrested—finally. And she has said these terrible things … ” My voice had lowered, lest I find myself shrieking at this unfair treatment from her. How could she? Knowing her children might be taken away. It defied logic.

He leaned forward. “Like I said, I believe you, ma’am. Your record is squeaky clean, you seem like a nice lady, and I saw you with your nephew. It looks to me like these children are lucky to have you to watch out for ‘em. I’m used to—well something else, and I’ve observed that this family is based on caring and respect. I’m not here to judge.”

I looked into the man’s sad brown eyes. “What will happen now?”

“Well, Miss Santana, I can delay, a little, reporting that I located you. That’ll give you time to petition the courts for an ex parte emergency protection order. Should you write it down?”

“That is not necessary.” It was imprinted on my consciousness.

“I meant no disrespect—”

“None was taken. Please go on.”

“You should do it tomorrow. Probably first thing. Call your attorney right away. My shift is not until evening, but I can’t delay my report longer than tomorrow around four o’clock. Get your attorney to file that emergency protection order. Just the filing alone will keep Family Services from taking action. They’ll make an appointment with you, that is if they’re not swamped, and they could be, but they won’t have the authority to remove the kids if you’ve done all that.”

“I will take care of these things in the morning.” Just how I was going to find an attorney on that short notice, I did not know. I thought of Mr. Drakos and his attorneys. Perhaps he could help.

“Again,” he said, standing, “I’m sorry you’re havin’ to go through this.”

I walked onto the porch with him. How Abuela would have hated this. “Officer, I must tell you this. Our home has been a refuge for my sister’s children since they were small. My abuela was their caretaker and an important part of their lives from their infancy until two years ago when she died. She never allowed me to report my sister’s relapses to the police, lest the authorities take the children. They have a home here—one they have come to many times.”

“That must be tough.”

“It is no burden, Mr. Rivers. Please do not misunderstand me. I love my niece and nephew. And I love having them here. But it is not fair to them, this disruption in their lives.”

“Well, their mom might make it. Sometimes jail’s a wake-up call. And there’s treatment in prison. Don’t give up hope.”

“It is for her children that I reserve my hope at this moment. Perhaps, with enough prayer, the Blessed Mother will show me how to be more charitable toward Isabella.”

He handed me a business card. “Let me know if I can iron out any wrinkles for you, Miss Santana. The court system can be a maze, and legal language sounds like gobblygook sometimes. I’m getting’ better at it, since I’ve been going to law school online for a few years now. I may even graduate someday. Anyway, call me if I can help, okay?”

~~~

Upstairs, I knocked on Matias’s door softly.

He called out, “Yes? What is it?” I could hear the tears in his voice.

“I need to speak to you, dear.”

He opened the door and turned his back to me, looking at the floor. His room was tidy, as always.

“Matias, mi sobrino, I know you were not studying at a friend’s house tonight. Will you please tell me where you were?”

He turned to look at me. His dark eyes were wary. I could see him wanting to tell an untruth, knowing he could not. “I went home,” he said finally. “I wanted to see my mother—to find her sober and well. To know she was okay.” He took a deep shaky breath. “That isn’t what I found.”

“What did you find, darling?”

“A dark, empty house. A broken slider. No mother. No furniture even. Nothing.” He looked at me then and his eyes filled with tears. “And a notice from the bank tacked to the front door.”

I reached out to him and he allowed me to hold him as he cried. Finally, he stopped and wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“I’m sorry—”

“No, it is I who is sorry you had to see this. And I am sorry for all the sorrow you have felt, my child. None of this did you deserve.”

“Thank you, Aunt Olivia. You—if we didn’t have you—”

“Listen, mi amor, of course you have me. You will always. I love you. You know this, do you not?” He nodded, and I went on, “Tomorrow we must all talk, you and your sister and me. But now, tonight, you need to rest. Are you hungry?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

“Then you can sleep, yes? It is late.”

He nodded again, and I started to leave his room. He stopped me. “Aunt Olivia?”

“Yes, Matias?”

“That man who was here—” he paused, and a smile crept across his tear-streaked face. It was a welcome sight to me, but I felt fearful. If he were to ask who the officer was, what would I say? “I think he likes you,” he said.

I was relieved this was the direction the conversation was taking, for it was fantasy on his part. “How could you tell that?”

“Just the way he looked at you, I guess. Have you got a boyfriend, Auntie?”

“No, I do not, silly boy. Go to bed now. Goodnight.”

Across the hall from my nephew’s room, I looked in on Mariella who was sleeping with her phone on her chest. I removed it and placed it on her nightstand. She had decorated her room with photographs of celebrities I had no knowledge of and had painted one of her walls a purple color so dark it looked black. Her night light cast stars on her ceiling, and it hummed as it turned.

I closed her door softly, stood in the hall, and leaned against the wall feeling the enormity of this day. Much had happened, much to deal with. I could not keep this terrible thing from Matias and Mariella. But first I had to arrange for them to be secure in this home.

Tomorrow I would seek Mr. Drakos’s advice about an attorney. I missed my abuela’s wisdom. She often said that God places people in our path who can help us. I was wondering about this Officer Rivers. Was he a person that God had sent?

~~~

The next morning the children were already in the kitchen. Matias had made Cuban coffee, something I needed desperately.

“Good morning mi familia.”

Mariella squealed and hugged me warmly. “I’m so glad you’re back, Aunt Olivia. I like Mrs. B fine. She was great, but she’s not you.” Her words touched me.

“I am pleased to be back, as well, and also happy to see you, my darling. And Matias, I am glad that Abuela taught you how to make perfect café Cubano. This morning you are saving my life with this elixir of the Gods.”

Matias smiled and said, “You’re welcome, Aunt Olivia. I’m glad, too, since it’s saving my life, as well.” He held up his thermal coffee container. I could see the dark circles under his eyes but also some new resolve reflected there.

“You’re going to work early today, aren’t you?” Mariella said. “And you’re dressed super nice.”

“She’s always dressed nice,” Matias said, as he spread peanut butter on his and his sister’s English muffins and handed one half to her. “But it’s earlier than usual, isn’t it, Aunt Olivia?” Matias asked.

“It is. My role grows more demanding as the company expands. My time off probably set me behind. And, lately I have been given the responsibility for ‘cultural and gender sensitivity’. There is a difficult issue to resolve today.” I retrieved some fruit and yoghurt from the refrigerator keeping my face averted. I had not told a lie about my work, but this was not the reason I was leaving the house early. Their mother’s actions were.

To Mariella I said, “Last night I could hear that you were speaking on your phone, helping a friend? I wished not to interrupt you to say goodnight.”

Mariella, licking the peanut butter off her fingers, said, “That was my bestie, Julie. Her boyfriend kissed another girl, a friend of hers, so she broke up with him. She’s not sure she did the right thing now because he begged her to forgive him, and he said that girl kissed him, not the other way around, and—”

“Earth to Mariella.” Matias had gathered his books and was tapping his wrist where a watch would be if he wore such a thing. My niece sighed and looked to me for help. “What do you think she should do, Auntie?”

“Well, without knowing more—”

“Mare,” Matias said, “I’m out the door. The bus is leaving.”

“Just a minute, Matias, Jeez.”

“Mariella, I am afraid your brother is waiting for you to go to school. You should not be late. Remember to take your jacket and gloves. We can continue this conversation tonight over dinner. I will be happy to catch up with both of you. We will go out. Cafecito.”

“Great.” Matias said. It was his favorite.

“O-kay,” Mariella said. “But with Julie, it will probably be something else by tonight.”

“Then you can tell me about that, can you not?”

“Definitely,” she said.

I was relieved that neither of them had asked about their mother, but my heart was heavy with the guilt I felt at having kept this secret from them.

Margo

“A little loud, isn’t it?” I yelled at Ruby. “I thought you wanted to chat.”

“Yeah, fucked that one up, didn’t I? Let’s go across the street. The food might not be as good, but we’ll be able to hear ourselves fart.”

She might have been having a bad day. Maybe she was hungry. I was.

We settled into booths, ordered wine, then before the waitress left, we ordered food, too. Thank God the woman didn’t hover.

“Okay, what’s going on?” I asked. “Were you off today?”

“Off my trolley, you mean?”

“No. Work.”

“Went in late, like I said.”

“So, what’s up?”

“No, Margot, not me. You. What’s happening with Ron?

“We’re at an impasse. We talked. A lot. And I kind of get it.”

“The heart wants what it wants?”

“More like the libido wants what it wants. I believe he loves me. I do. We’ve had each other’s backs for thirty years, Ruby. Thirty. We still—well, until all this— still held each other until we fell asleep at night. He makes me laugh. He listens to me. He’s interested in what I have to say and what my preferences are. He does his best to make me happy. By most definitions, that’s love.”

“Damn straight. I’d take it.” We got our wine. Half glasses of wine, that is. “And the sex?” Ruby asked.

The young gal who served us looked a little startled. I waited until she left.

“Okay. The sex is okay. Mostly routine. Sometimes I feel like he’s avoiding it. Avoiding me.”

“Doesn’t sound much different than a lot of marriages—”

“Stop. I’m not doing a comparing thing. Besides, I’ve come to the conclusion that sex or the lack of it, or the mundane nature of it, doesn’t define our marriage. I’m having a worse time with the dishonesty.”

“Well, he could hardly tell you, could he.” Ruby dropped her voice an octave, supposedly mimicking Ron. “By the way, Margo, I shagged a bloke today. I hope you’re okay with that.” She shook her head. “He’d’ve been out on his arse in a flash. He’s not dumb, is he? And besides, probably he did try to … avoid temptation. Maybe even thought he’d be able to.”

I took a sip of my wine. “You on his side?”

“Doesn’t feel like there are sides, here, love. If there are, I’m on the side of your marriage.”

“How are we going to tell the kids?”

“Why ‘we’? That’s Ron’s job, isn’t it? And, again, why do you think they need to know?”

“Why do you think they don’t need to know?”

“Oh, well, let’s see—because it’s none of their business.”

“I disagree.”

“Well, sure. You would, wouldn’t you?”

“What does that mean?”

“Margo, I’m pretty sure you bloody well want him punished for what he’s done, and telling the kids would do it. But then wouldn’t it hurt them, too?”

I folded my napkin into quarters. “Won’t it hurt them worse to find out we kept it from them?”

“I’m not sure about that. What is it you want?”

“I don’t know what I want, Ruby, except for none of this to be true, but what I don’t want is for them to reject their father, to hate him—or me.

“Something you have zero control over, and something not bloody likely, is it?”

“I don’t know. I know my sons, I think, but I don’t know about—”

“Are you sure you want to do this to poor Jon? He’ll have his nice Christian fiancée with him, won’t he? Are you gonna do a ‘welcome to the family. Oh by the way, Jon’s dad is a closeted gay man who’s recently come out’.”

“Well, we can’t tell Bobby and not Jon.”

“Rock and a hard place, huh?”

I leaned back in my seat, looked at my empty glass. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I need another glass of wine.”

“I’m not sure I should let you wiggle out of it that easy.”

“No, seriously, I’m spinning my wheels coming back to the same place. You know, let’s leave it at ‘I’ll tell you when I make a decision’.”

I sat back up and looked for the waitress. She saw me and I made a motion for two more wines. She nodded. I looked at Ruby and she took the last swallow of hers.

About that time a balding man drifted up to our table. He had two glasses of wine in his hands. “Are you girls looking for some company?”

I feared for the guy’s safety when I saw Ruby’s expression. “Are you mad? Do we look that desperate, you tosser?”

“No, sir,” I said. “We’re having dinner here and enjoying each other’s company. Thank you, anyway.”

He left without a word, but he looked back at Ruby as if he wished he could’ve thought of something clever to say to her. Little did he know.

“Now that we’ve seen how much worse things could be, tell me what’s happening with the men in your life.”

“Sod all, that’s what. Honestly, as for Joe, not enough there to try to have something on with him. It feels like he’s gone his way and I’ve gone mine, and we ain’t getting our paths aligned any time soon, if ever. He voted for Trump, for fuck’s sake. That’s a deal breaker.”

“God, yes. I agree. No matter how good a kisser. And Alan?”

“I haven’t rung him up.  I’ve got three days before he gets here—three days to figure out what to do.”

“Why don’t you see how you feel when you see him?”

“He’s a sexy guy, Margo. I know how I’ll feel. I’ll wanna jump his bones.”

“Well, after that, then see how you feel. I’ve never understood how you were going to make this work, anyway. He’s not giving up his business in the Bahamas, is he? And you’re not going to become an island girl are you?”

“Not bloody likely. No idea how licensing works, but I think he was gonna look into trying to start up in Miami, Broward, or Palm Beach county, even. Scuba diving is pretty popular in south Florida, and there are dive boats here, too, you know. He says there’s room for competition. Then he could come home every day.”

“And how were you going to deal with having him around seven days a week?”

The waitress brought our glasses of wine, a little fuller this time. I watched as Ruby took a sip of hers, made a face and took a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s the sticky one, isn’t it? I’ve never known how people did it. Who’d put up with my moods, and how would I put up with theirs?”

I reached over and took her hand. She looked truly miserable, and I felt bad for her. “I don’t see how you can think about getting married knowing you don’t want a permanent live-in relationship. How is it you’ve never told him how much you value your time alone when he’s gone?”

“I guess because I like having him around when he is.” She paused. “I thought I’d adjust…”

I sat back. “I’m thinking not.”

“Spoil sport. Listen, speaking of relationships, what do you think about Zan and Trevor? You know we’ve not laid eyes on that guy since their wedding? Eleven years ago, is it? He’s a bit of a ghost, isn’t he?”

“What, you don’t believe he comes home? Ever?”

“Well, I’ve got no bloody reason to think she’s lying, but she can’t tell him she was raped? What kinda man must he be that she doesn’t think he could handle it? Couldn’t be a comfort to his wife if somethin’ like that happened? Makes me wonder if he knows about her pedophile grandfather. I mean, does he even know his wife at all? Does she even let him?”

“Ruby, you have to understand that everybody does being in a relationship differently. Look at me.”

“Up until a week ago, your ‘being in a relationship’ was the gold standard. I couldn’t’ve hoped to ever effing duplicate what you and Ron had. In fact, I’ve spent considerable time wanting exactly what you two had.”

“Turns out it was based on a lie.”

“Come on, pet, that’s bitter.”

“But true. I thought we had no secrets. I would’ve bet my life—but how did we get back to me? We were talking about Zan—who is living in the middle of a lie, too. Interesting.”

“Thought you wanted no comparisons—they get you nowhere. I should know. Next thing you’ll be deciding which lie is worse. It’s a dead end, and you know it.”

“Okay, you’re right. But back to Zan. She’s got a great colorist—those lowlights work with her hair. And sure, her work out routine is admirable. But don’t you think she’s going too far with her efforts to stay young? Plastic surgery seems extreme to me.”

“To you, sure. You’ve got that great complexion. Perky tits. But she’s got all that pressure to ‘present the face’ of Fit&Fab Forever, doesn’t she? The face and the body, if I read it right.”

I ignored her reference to my breasts, just glad the waitress wasn’t serving our food right then. “Zan could let them use another model and still be involved couldn’t she? She’s the owner of the business, isn’t she?”

“Yes, I think so. But doesn’t she do those commercials? I think she’s gotta keep her physical presence out there.”

“Well, I’m worried about her. She was wired a little too tight, and drank much more than any of us did. And we drank. A lot.”

“Even more than me,” Ruby said. She looked surprised at that.

“I think she’s in a bad place. Can’t tell her husband something that traumatic happened? Can’t afford to gain a pound? Which, by the way I think she might be bulimic. She made a dash for the bathroom after we ate Sunday night.”

“You mean that outrageous meal went into the commode? Her birthday dinner? Fuck no. That food was expensive. And good, of course, but still…”

The waitress reappeared. She gave Ruby my entree and me Ruby’s, but we switched it after she left. I took a bite and it was pretty good. I was glad I went with the tuna melt. Ruby had fish and chips. Both of us getting our mercury for the day.

“I’m always trying to find fish ‘n chips that taste like home, you know? This isn’t bad, but it falls short by a continent or two.”

“Get a pint with it instead of wine. Possibly that’ll help.”

“Yeah, prob’ly not.”

“What about Olivia?” I asked. “Have you spoken to her about her sister?”

“You do know we’ve been back five days now, right? No, I haven’t. Probably tried to get her sister back into rehab. Thinking one of these times, it’ll take.”

“Or her sister will get arrested or killed.”

“Aren’t you Miss Mary Sunshine? One of us needs to call her—Olivia—and find out. Me,” she said as she held a piece of fried fish up with her fork, “I’ve been consumed with what the hell I’m going to say to Alan. After I shag ‘im, of course.” She put her fork down. “And I’ve been worried, honestly, I have, about you, Margo. And Ron. He’s a peach. Don’t do anything barmy, okay? Hang in there with him for a bit longer. It’s odd, and unconventional, sure, but probably not one-of-a kind. There have to be other gay men who marry women they love. Because he does love you, you know? I do, if you don’t. You’ve been happy together or at least mostly happy. Nobody’s happy all the time, are they?”

“I love you, Ruby.” I reached over and covered her hand with mine. “And I love it that you’re worried about me. Thank you for that.”

“You think I’m self-centered, as a rule, don’t you?”

“Oh, honey, not really. I’m a hundred times more self-centered than you are. I do think you’ve never been ‘okay’ since Callie died. But when you’ve gone through the worst thing in the world any parent could go through, it’s obviously hard, if not impossible, to see any lesser difficulty as anything but trivial. You’re angry, mostly, and I get it. I’m just concerned about how much harm it’s done—is doing—to you.”

“I know,” she said, and picked her fork back up. Then she looked up at me, eyes full of tears, but with a brave smile. “So, Alan? Any advice?”

I smiled back. “You could use a haircut? And, like you said to me, ‘you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out’.”

~~~

Ron was reading on the sofa bed in the guest room when I got home. I stuck my head in. He slid his reading glasses down his nose and looked up at me. “How was Ruby?”

“Daft. Profane.”

“As usual or even more so?”

“She’s conflicted.”

“About?” He patted a space beside him on the bed and I hesitated.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“About what?”

“I don’t want to presume you’ll trust me and tell me things you would’ve in the past, but it comes naturally to me to want—”

“I know.” I walked into the room, kicked off my shoes, and sat on the bed. The springs squeaked and the bar was uncomfortable to sit on. I squirmed around trying to face him and not sure I wanted to. “Can I ask you something—something else?”

“Haven’t we established that by now? You can ask me anything. I’m not sure you want the answers, but I’ve made a promise to you—and myself—to give it to you straight.” He turned beet red. “I’m sorry, that was—I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t. Stop.”

“Okay. Yes, of course you can. What is it?”

I could feel my heartbeat. “Were you ever attracted to me?” My throat constricted, and tears threatened. I didn’t want to cry—not now.

He started to reach for my hand then thought better of it, but I could tell he wanted to touch me. “Oh, honey, of course I was. I still am. You’re a sexy woman. My being aroused by men doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re beautiful. And desirable.”

“But did I ever turn you on?”

“Yes. But I didn’t read your ‘signals’ well, your indications of interest. It could be that they were too subtle for me. With you, I couldn’t tell you wanted me, and I was unsure of myself.” He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Margo, what I do—what I’m driven to do—with men, it has nothing to do with affection. And it doesn’t translate well to sex with women—with the woman I love more than anything in the world.”

“You were always—affectionate, Ron. Just not—”

“I know. Honestly, I lacked technique. I never knew how to please you, but I’d have loved to try. I still would.”

“And I had nobody but you as an example, so I didn’t know how to show you what I wanted.” My heart ached. I hoped I didn’t sound pathetic or whiny.

“You never had any other lover but me?”

“Once. A brief encounter.”

He looked surprised for a beat, and I could see him make a decision to not ask any questions. Good move.

I went on. Maybe I wanted to hurt him. “He didn’t need ‘technique’. It was clear that he wanted me and that was heady stuff.”

He closed his book and put it on the floor. “So, there we were in the enlightened nineties with sex manuals all over the place, and we just muddled along? We’re two smart people. How did we let that happen?”

“I don’t know. We talked about everything, Ron. Why didn’t we ever talk about … why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to lose you, Margo. Do you honestly think you would’ve been able to hear my ‘confession” all those years ago? And then stayed with me? You’d’ve run like hell, and wise to do it.”

I looked around the room. He was right. Of course he was. And I still wasn’t convinced I wouldn’t leave him.

He cleared his throat. “What now?”

“Come sleep in the bedroom tonight, okay? This sofa bed is bad for your back.”