Somewhere on St. Thomas: A Somewhere Series Romance (14 page)

“I’m really, really sorry,” I said. There was nothing to say, nothing to do. I was losing everything right now through my risky choice to run off to see Rafe.

Well, maybe not everything.
The ruby on my finger felt like a tiny comforting nugget in my hand.

Shellie pushed me in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you lied about going to the Virgin Islands. You’re white as a ghost! You didn’t get any sun at all. Sam was right. You went somewhere else, with someone else. Where would you go? And who with? It had to be that Rafe guy, that worthless bum you met working in your parents’ yard business!”

She could be forgiven her demeaning inaccuracies about Rafe and my parents’ business. I was a terrible person and I felt terrible about myself.

“I’m so, so sorry. I don’t expect you to understand.” I tried to get my door open, fumbling with the key. I now deeply regretted I’d ever told Shellie about Rafe and our letter writing, because she’d jumped to the right conclusion about where I’d been.

“You should be with that worthless drifter. You two losers deserve each other! You’re not good enough for my brother!”

I’d had enough verbal abuse now that I’d finally got my door open.

“Let’s talk in the morning, when you’re sober,” I said firmly, and closed the door in her furious face and locked it.

“Slut! Whore! Liar!” she yelled, and kicked the door.

I heard the hurt behind Shellie’s hot-tempered words. She felt betrayed by my lies, by her brother’s hurt, by disappointment in her own hopes for our relationship. There was nothing I could say or do right now that wouldn’t make the situation worse.

I went to my bed and lay down on it fully clothed. I heard Shellie’s furious voice on the phone in the room next door. She was probably ruining my reputation with her parents, with any of our mutual friends she could get hold of.

I deserved it.

What had I been thinking? I’d been so caught up in Rafe, Rafe, Rafe that it hadn’t occurred to me who’d be hurt if my ploy to meet him in San Francisco was discovered.

I pulled my blanket up over myself and burrowed under it. I imagined I still could smell the fresh scent of Sam in my bed, and my eyes prickled with tears.

I really did like Sam. So much. And Henry, too. I hated having to end things with them in such a hurtful way to all involved. The only fair, smart thing to do was to break up with Rafe, too, take a total break from men until summer, as I’d decided to do.

I deserve to be miserable for hurting everyone.

I opened my hand to peek at the ring.

The light of my bedside lamp fell on the ruby. It was set in antique-looking reddish gold with tiny leaves etched on the shank. The ring of diamonds around the edge of the central stone caught fire in the light, and now I saw that the center cabochon was a star ruby.

The stone lit from within as light struck it. Rays played across the rounded, deep red surface, following me whichever direction I turned it.

It was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen.

I took it off my left hand and slid it onto the ring finger of my right hand. I couldn’t wear it on the left without accepting Rafe’s proposal, but it couldn’t hurt to sleep wearing it, just tonight.

Because the ring reminded me that at least one person in the world didn’t hate me right now.

Chapter 10

I waited in my room the next morning until I finally heard Shellie leave, slamming and locking the outer door extra loud. She was still mad.

Only when I was sure the coast was clear did I go out, unlock Shellie’s door with the key she’d given me for emergencies, and retrieve the clunky black phone on its long cord, which was part of the suite’s furnishings.

I dragged it to my side, locked the door, and sat on my bed with the phone.

I dialed the number for Lisa’s boardinghouse, the only number I had for Rafe.

“Hello?” Lisa’s rich voice with its hint of the tropics was enough to make my eyes fill.

“Hi, Lisa. It’s Ruby. Is Rafe around?”

“Hey, girl. Guess you two aren’t on the outs anymore?” She sounded hopeful.

“No thanks to you, telling him where I was hiding out,” I said. “We’re still figuring things out.”

“He’s an old friend, and when he didn’t come home the other night, I thought you two had made up. If you know what I mean.” I could almost see her wiggle her expressive eyebrows.

Even three thousand miles away, I felt a blush heat up my cheeks thinking of all Rafe and I had gotten up to that night. “I just need to speak to him,” I said firmly.

“Well, he’s at the boat, but he said he’s coming home this afternoon to do some errands. He’s getting ready for another trip out on the
Creamy Maid
.”

“Oh.” I felt my stomach clench with something I wasn’t ready to figure out. “Well, tell him I called and I need to talk to him.”

“Will do.”

I hung up and looked at the calendar across the room.

I had a shift in the cafeteria in thirty minutes and a class after that. It was time to get on with whatever would be my man-free life. I felt as miserable as if I’d been beaten all over.

* * *

I scooped a blob of mashed potatoes onto the tray and pushed it across the counter to someone, whose hand reached out to stop me.

I looked up into Henry’s gray eyes.

They were his best feature, a light bluish silver with a ring of dark slate around the iris, and he had black lashes long as a girl’s. His long-fingered musician’s hands were his other best feature, and one of them, warm and firm with tiny calluses on the pads from playing violin, touched my hand.

“We have to talk,” he said. Gently. Not angrily. I blinked to keep instant tears from welling over.

“Okay. Tonight, after class,” I said. “I’ll meet you at the coffee shop.” We had a favorite hangout, a little greasy-spoon diner where they served inky coffee in thick white china cups at red-checked tables.

* * *

I made it through the rest of the shift and class, struggling with my concentration but diligently taking notes during Intermediate Composition class with four hundred other freshmen, and finally I walked down the gum-dotted sidewalk through a gleam of light rain to the diner.

Spring was finally coming to Boston, and I could see the swelling of tiny green leaves all over the shade trees punctuating the sidewalk in this part of town. An obvious spring was a new thing for me. We didn’t really have seasons in the Virgin Islands, just periods with longer days and less surf, more rain and bigger waves.

I had really enjoyed the seasonal aspect of my school year here in Massachusetts. I was going to need to keep thinking about all I liked about Northeastern, now that I was living a man-free, friendless life.

The hole I was in right now felt so deep and black that it sucked the light right out of spring.

I pushed through the old glass door and went and sat in the vinyl booth Henry and I usually chose. I ordered french fries, realizing I hadn’t eaten all day, and a cup of coffee.

I was dipping the fries into watery ketchup when Henry slid into the booth opposite me.

He was wearing a bright red scarf that set off his black curly hair and fresh pink cheeks, and his gray eyes were intent. “What’s all this about?”

I set the fry down. “I need to take a break from men. All men. Total break.”

“You said there’s someone else.”

“There is. And I spent time with him during spring break.” I could feel my lips trembling, and I firmed them deliberately. “I told you I’d tell you one way or the other at the end of break, and I thought I should return everything to you, so you don’t feel any obligation to me or misunderstand. I’m dead serious about this.”

Henry didn’t unbutton his coat or unwind his scarf, but he did take my hands in his, and that’s when I realized I was still wearing the ruby. It was on my right hand, it was true, but there it was. Big. Beautiful, and glowing like a drop of blood on my finger.

“Where did you get that?” The warmth, the understanding that had been in Henry’s voice evaporated as he gazed at the ring. “It’s a ruby. Looks expensive.”

“Um. Yeah.” I yanked my hand away, pulled the ring off and stuck it in my pocket. “It’s not mine. Just borrowed from a friend. I’m returning it. It doesn’t have anything to do with the letter I sent you.”

Henry’s pink cheeks got pinker. That was something I’d always liked about him. He wasn’t as handsome or as chiseled as Sam or Rafe, but he was sweet and appealing in his way. Part of that appeal was that he blushed as obviously as I did.

“There’s been something going on with you the whole time we were together,” he said deliberately. “You aren’t the person I thought you were.” He got up from the booth and stood looking down at me for a long minute. “You’re as fake as your French accent, Juliette,” he said, and walked out of the restaurant.

I covered my face with my hands.

Henry had loved my pretend persona as the girl from the French Antilles. Juliette, with her clove cigarette and beret, could flirt so much better than Ruby the missionary’s daughter. I could feel tears actually squirting out of my eyes. I held my breath to keep from sobbing out loud.

I felt queasy with the hurt I was dealing out and sick at the harshness that was coming back at me—and justifiably so.

“Here.” I felt the waitress touch my shoulder as she refilled my coffee mug and removed the plate of fries. “Some extra napkins.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, and picked up a handful without opening my eyes and pressed them against my face.

Nothing to do but keep going.

I left an extra dollar for a tip, pushed back out the door, and made my leaden feet take me back to the dorm. I was going to have to face Shellie again.

She still wasn’t back, which came as a relief, but the phone rang as soon as I’d unlocked the door to my room. I shrugged out of my coat and mentally girded my loins.

“Ruby. Are you okay?” Rafe’s voice was jerky with alarm, and I realized we’d hardly talked on the phone before. Between the long-distance charges and his sailor lifestyle, letters had worked better.

“Rafe.” I covered my throat with my hand to help stabilize my voice. “I need to break up with you. I’m taking a time-out from men.”

A long silence. I could hear a faint hiss on the line, the sound of cold, empty distance. That charged space between us stretched too far to be bridged.

“What happened?” Just like with Henry, his voice was soft, worried.

“Oh, the shit hit the fan. I got home and Sam was in my bed. To surprise me. And I broke up with him. I never told you about Sam. And then I took a letter to Henry last night to break up with him, and Shellie called me a liar and a whore, and Henry called me fake…” I let out a gasping sob, pushing my fist into my diaphragm. “I didn’t tell you that I lied to everybody here when I went to visit you. And now it’s all caught up with me.”

Another long silence. I dragged the phone to the bathroom and pulled some lengths of toilet paper off the roll to blot my eyes with. “So I’m sorry, but I can’t be with you, or anybody.”

“Okay. How long is this hiatus going to be?” He sounded perfectly calm and not angry. I was heartened by this.

“Until summer at least. I don’t even know what I’m doing this summer, if I’ll even have enough money to get home to Saint Thomas. But I do know I’m sick of this roller coaster and I need to get off.”

“Sounds reasonable. Are you giving me back the ring?”

“Oh, Rafe. It’s so beautiful and valuable. I should send it back insured…” I took the ring out of my pocket, watching the light roll around in the star ruby.

“Don’t worry about that. Just put it back in the box and put it away somewhere safe. I’ll get it in person.”

“What?” I said, my voice going high with fright. “I told you, we’re breaking up.” I could never resist Rafe if he somehow showed up here.

“Don’t worry. I accept what you’re saying. But also know, I’m not giving up on us. I love you, Ruby.” His voice was deep, rough. “And I have enough years under my belt to know what that means. I’ll give you your space. We’re taking the boat out for a while, so I won’t be able to talk to you anyway. But I plan to keep writing. Goodbye, now.”

“No, Rafe. No writing. No calling. Leave me alone, and I’ll figure out how to send the ring back!” I cried, but found I was talking to a dial tone.

I put the receiver down, rubbing my sore eyes and thinking about his voice as he said,
I love you, Ruby.

He loved me. He’d asked me to marry him. He wasn’t going to give up on me.

The phone rang and I jumped. I stared at it like it was a rattler sitting in my lap, shaking its tail at me.

It was probably Rafe. Or, God forbid, Henry. Or Sam. Or maybe it was for Shellie. None of the options were good.

Finally the ringing stopped, only to start up again.

I snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Ruby?” My dad’s voice, tinny with the distance from Saint Thomas. “Are you okay?”

“Oh God,” I said. “Hi, Daddy.”

“We had the strangest message on the answering machine last night. It was Shellie, your roommate, and she said you were lying to us and had never gone with her family for spring break; you’d gone to San Francisco to have sex with Rafe McCallum. She sounded drunk.” My dad’s voice sounded quivery and uncertain. I almost didn’t recognize it.