Seasons of Her Life (75 page)

Ruby returned two hours later, her legs aching, but she felt good, less tense. She hung up her coat and set about making some vanilla hazelnut coffee. She loved the smell of it. The dogs were on their feet the moment the coffee grinder whirred to life. She carried her steaming cup into the living room, the animals on her heel. The Christmas tree was up, but unadorned. Ruby brought out the ornaments.

By five o'clock the huge living room was fragrant with balsam. A fire blazed, the Christmas tree lights twinkled, the mistletoe and the huge wreath, with its red velvet bow, proclaimed that the Christmas season had arrived at Orchard Circle. Ruby dusted her hands dramatically as she closed the last box of ornaments. She'd done it all herself. For the first time in many years, she felt the Christmas spirit.

She was humming to herself, the stereo was playing Christmas songs, the dogs were tramping through the pile of wrap and ribbons she'd left in the middle of the floor. Doozie was hopelessly tangled in a skein of red ribbon.

Gaily wrapped presents were piled as high as the branches of the tree in a wide half circle. They were also piled in corners, on tables, and under tables, on chairs and sofas. They were piled in crazy angles at the base of the stairs and into the alcove. Mounds of presents stood like sentinels on each side of the front door. The dining room contained the overflow, as did the room she called the library. Hundreds of presents, maybe thousands, for all she knew. She shopped daily and wrapped nightly. She had presents for everyone: Mikey, Biddy, the Semolina brothers and cousins, her children, and Andrew. The dogs had their own pile, as did Doozie.

She'd been baking for days now and the smells in the house were so delightful, she walked around sniffing and smiling to herself.

Charlotte was singing a chorus from “Jingle Bells” when Ruby walked into the kitchen to toss a pile of crumpled papers into the trash. Her front doorbell rang just as she was pulling the vacuum cleaner from the closet. Doozie's back went up. Sam snarled as he raced from the kitchen to the living room and the front door. Fred growled low in her throat. The only person who ever rang her front doorbell was Rob Frazier, the woodcutter.

Surely it wasn't Rob, not in this weather.

The bell rang a second time. “Okay, okay, I'm coming. Stay!” she ordered the dogs. When the bell rang a third time, Charlotte started to sing again.

Ruby opened the door, fully expecting to see Rob Frazier.

“Dixie!” Ruby did the only thing she could think of. She slammed the door shut. Doozie hissed as she circled Ruby's trembling legs. Sam's ears flattened against his head. Fred continued to growl. Number Five was tramping through the Christmas wrap. Ruby watched her squat and pee. She felt her eyes roll back in her head.

The doorbell rang again and again.

Ruby opened the door a second time.

“Please Ruby, can I come in?”

“Why?” Ruby demanded.

“Because I need to talk to you.”

“Lately everyone needs to talk to me. Well, I don't need to talk to you. Get the hell off my property, Dixie. I don't want to see you, and I don't want to talk to you, either.”

All the old anger and hurt rushed to the surface. She completely forgot about the private detective and the soul-searching she'd done in regard to Dixie.

“Then I'll stand out here and freeze, because. I'm not leaving until you talk to me.”

“Suit yourself,” Ruby said, slamming the door a second time.

The animals were in a frenzy, sensing their mistress's distress.

Ruby felt out of control, much the way she'd felt the night Hugo Sinclaire's ashes had rained over her. In her heart of hearts she'd always hoped Dixie would come back, but the logical side of her believed she'd never see her old friend again. How many times she'd rehearsed different scenarios, from wrapping Dixie in her arms and saying, “Whatever it is, it's okay, I forgive you,” to “Get the hell out of my life, drop dead, go away, I never want to see you again.” The ornery streak in her said Dixie had to pay for all the hurt and anger. Standing in the cold and snow was a small payback for the anguish she'd suffered.

The time was here. She could play out whatever scene she wanted.

Ruby parted the sheer curtain on the slim pane of glass in her front door. Dixie was sitting on the steps, her arms wrapped around her knees. A stubborn woman. Dixie would sit there till she took root or froze to death. She owed Dixie nothing, not even the time of day. Then why did you hire the private detective? she argued with herself.

It was Christmas, for God's sake, couldn't Dixie have waited till after the holidays to come around and upset her life? Now everything was different. She thought she was past the anger, past the hurt. She felt dizzy with the thoughts ricocheting in her head.

Ruby sat down; the animals sat next to her. She inhaled the fragrant balsam twined around the banister, her eyes on the six-foot Christmas tree with its twinkling lights. Tears burned her eyes as she stared at the mountains of presents. Not one for Dixie. “Oh, no, I'm not playing
that
game.”

How long would Dixie sit out there in the snow? She knew the answer. Forever. Ruby didn't move. Her stomach churned. Why now, after all this time? Dixie must want something. You're being cruel, Ruby. Open the door. Dixie is like a sister. Better than a sister. You love her. It doesn't matter what happened before. It's the now that counts.

Ruby scratched behind Sam's ears. “I'm not in the life-saving business anymore,” she muttered to the dogs. “I'm fresh out of absolution. You want absolution, go to church.” Her eyes continued to burn. How had Dixie found her way here? Obviously, the private detective had located her.

Fred was on her lap, nuzzling her neck. Number Five was back in the pile of Christmas wrap. He was pooping on a piece of red wrapping paper that said Noel. It was her fault. She hadn't let the animals out in a while. Maybe she should sic them on Dixie, let them chase her off the property. Grow up, Ruby. Be
kind. Forgive whatever you think her sin is. Listen to her. Give her a chance.

Ruby looked at her watch. Twenty minutes had gone by. Dixie hadn't been dressed too warmly. Ruby gently eased Fred off her lap and walked jerkily to the door. She parted the sheer curtain. Dixie was huddled on the steps. She was covered with snow.

Her face grim, her lips narrowed into a thin, tight line, Ruby yanked the door open. “Okay, I'll give you ten minutes. I don't want your death on my conscience.”

Dixie struggled to her feet. Ruby noticed she wasn't wearing gloves.

Dixie shook herself the way animals did when they were wet. She stomped the snow off her shoes. Stupid shoes. Sling backs with open toes.

Ruby didn't offer to take her coat, but she said, not unkindly, “Come in by the fire.”

“This is pretty,” Dixie said, looking around. “It smells good, too. You were always big on smells. I'm kind of cold, Ruby. Do you think I could have a cup of coffee or something?”

“All right, but it's going to eat into your ten minutes,” Ruby muttered.

In the kitchen she poured the coffee, then put it into the microwave to heat it. While she waited she rearranged the lemons. When the coffee was steaming, she added an extra spoon of sugar to it. At the last second she bent down to pick up her slipper-socks by the rocking chair.

“Put these on. When your feet are cold, the rest of you can't get warm.”

“Thanks, Ruby,” Dixie said gratefully. “Are all these animals yours?”

“Yes. They're better than
some
people.” Number Five, the new puppy, was by Dixie's feet, wiggling and squirming. She was rubbing her belly.

“Let's cut to the quick, the social part is over. What do you want? I know you want something, otherwise you wouldn't be here. Just for the record. You broke my heart. Now I'm just starting to get it back together, and here you are. As far as I'm concerned, you're yesterday's news.”

“I want yesterday back,” Dixie said quietly.

“Well, it's gone,” Ruby said quietly. “So if there's nothing more, you should be on your way. You can keep the socks.”

“Ruby, please, I need to talk to you. I want to try and explain ...”

“Now, where have I heard those words before? We don't have anything to say to one another. You're just someone I used to know.”

“When did you get so bitter?” Dixie asked quietly.

“When? You have the nerve to ask me that?” Ruby raged. “Why don't you just kick me in the gut and stomp me to death? I don't understand. I
never
understood.”

“I had some problems. I had to handle ... I don't know. I panicked. I had to run. It was either that, or once again lay everything in your lap, and that just wasn't fair.”

“Oh, no, you don't. You aren't laying this one on me,” Ruby grated as she paced the living room. She was almost dizzy with the scent of the evergreen in her nostrils. “Nobody forces anyone to do anything. You had a free will. You chose to disappear. You chose to cut me off. I don't want to hear it. It's over, it's history. I want to sell you my half of the business, not that there's much left to sell. Business is down. Those upstarts snapping at Mrs. Sugar's heels should have been nipped in the bud, but I couldn't do anything because you weren't around to agree. What's their names—Mrs. Field and David? They now have the corner on the cookie business. Now they want to buy
us.
I was always there for you, Dixie,” Ruby sobbed.

“I seem to remember being there for you, too,” Dixie sobbed in return.

“You ran away. You sold your goddamn house. All you had to do was make one phone call, send one letter, a fucking note, telling me you were okay, that you had a problem you had to deal with. Five minutes out of your life, but I wasn't worth the effort. Get out of my face, Dixie. I'm sick of you and your excuses,” Ruby said shrilly. “You said we were a team, better than sisters. You said we were going to grow old together and sit in rocking chairs and reminisce. That was all bullshit of the worst kind, because you knew it was a lie. I believed in our friendship. You didn't and that's the bottom line.”

Ruby sat down on the sofa and dropped her head into her hands. She couldn't stop the flow of tears. The dogs inched closer, eyeing Dixie warily. Doozie was on the mantel, hissing and snarling.

Dixie walked across the room. She dropped to her knees, careful to stay far enough away from Ruby so the jittery dogs wouldn't spring at her.

“I couldn't handle the success, Ruby. That's what my shrink said, anyway. I couldn't seem to get a handle on anything after Hugo died. All I did was exist, mark time. Even when I got sick, I couldn't bring myself to go to the hospital for two years. I just didn't care. I didn't want any more troubles, any more problems. When you don't know what to do, do nothing, right? I was so damned tired of being a burden to you and to myself.”

Ruby raised her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You expect me to buy that bullshit? You marked time for five goddamn fucking years? Stuff it. I'm not stupid. You hung me out to dry. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave now,” Ruby said wearily, the tears drying on her cheeks.
Sick? What did she mean?

“I was never as tough as you, Ruby,” Dixie said sadly. “I couldn't stare it down and pull up my socks.”

“I would have helped you. That's what friends are for. Why now, after so long?”

“Well, I thought if I came here now, at this time of year, you might feel more charitable toward me. At least I hoped so. Because I need you. I need someone to take care of me. I'm dying, Ruby. I have breast cancer. I had a mastectomy three years ago, but the tumor has come back.”

Ruby's head whirled. She felt faint, sick. “Who told you you were going to die?”

“I've been to five different specialists. It's not spreading, Ruby, it's galloping through my entire body. Each day I ... I don't have long, Ruby. A month at the most. I'm taking massive ... Look, I don't want to die alone, and you're all I have. I didn't mean to come here and spoil your Christmas. Ruby, I am so sorry.”

Dixie was dying and she was apologizing for it. Ruby looked at her old friend, really looked at her. She opened her arms and Dixie stepped into them. All the bad was gone, the years wiped away. Ruby swore later that she felt her broken heart snap back together.

“I wanted to tell you ... so many things,” Ruby said. “About myself. About us, our friendship. I wanted to clear all the negative out of my life. I spent a lot of time being angry with you. The reasons I came here aren't important, but this place, these animals and some very nice people, helped me to get back on track. And Andrew has been wonderful. Hard to believe, huh? My God, of course I'll ... take care of you. I'll do my best, but are you sure you don't ... wouldn't you be better off in a ...”

“No, Ruby. This is right for me, if you can handle it. If you can't, I can walk away. As you always say, I'm good at that. Only promise one thing. I don't want a
place
. You have to agree to that.”

“No place!
Oh, no, Dixie, I can't agree to that.”

“No place, Ruby,” Dixie said stubbornly. “I know you. You'll go there all the time and weep and wail, and before you know it, you'll be blaming yourself for my death. No place. Promise me.”

Ruby sniffed, the tears rolling down her cheeks. She nodded.

“Everything is taken care of legally. I'm not leaving you a mess to deal with. Ruby, I think I love you more than anyone on this earth. I'm not just saying that because ... I'm saying it because it's true. Do you think I could lie down for a little while?”