The Loves of Ruby Dee (12 page)

She was rubbing the sweating glass over her neck where her dress scooped low and mulling over the possibility of adopting a foreign child, when a red Suburban drove up. A woman got out. Ruby Dee rose. She felt a foolish annoyance. She had enjoyed sitting in the quiet and dreaming her dreams, and this stranger had come butting in, forcing the return of reality. There were few things Ruby Dee hated more than reality.

Sally started across the yard, wagging a tail in greeting, but Ruby Dee called her back.

The woman stared over the hood of the Suburban. “Is Will around?”

Her voice was forceful as she came around the car. She had blond hair—frosted, for sure—styled poofy, was older than Ruby Dee by some years—maybe in her late thirties—and was very pretty. She wore a starched turquoise shirt, with a fancy silver brooch at the neck, creased Rockies jeans and shiny boots. She stopped and put a hand to her hip—her left hand, which had a ring on it with a diamond the size of Mt. Everest.

“He’s gone out to sort cattle,” Ruby Dee said.

“Oh.” The woman stared at Ruby Dee. Ruby Dee stared back. “Who are you?”

“I’m Ruby Dee D’Angelo. Who are you?”

The woman regarded her a moment. “Georgia Reeves. Are you the housekeeper Will sent for?” she asked. She had a perfectly made-up face, her lipstick a cinnamon shade. Ruby Dee wished she had freshened her own lipstick; it was all gone now after eating her lunch.

“I’m the nurse, come to take care of his daddy. Would you like to speak to Mr. Starr?” she said, just thinking of it. “He’s inside in bed. He hurt his ankle yesterday.”

The woman grinned wryly and shook her head. “Nooo...
I don’t need to be seein’ Hardy Starr.” Pivoting on the ball of her boot, she strode back around the car. The big diamond on her hand caught the light. “Tell Will I came by,” she said, not bothering with a “please.” She jerked open the car door and slammed it shut behind her. With quick turns, she headed the Suburban away in a cloud of dust.

Ruby Dee wondered who the woman had been. A married woman, but she had been jealous of Ruby Dee. She had acted a little possessive, to Ruby Dee’s mind. A little uppity. Of course, Miss Edna had always said Ruby Dee had an overactive imagination.

“I don’t think I would like her much,” Ruby Dee told Miss Edna.

“Mind your manners, Ruby Dee,”
Miss Edna scolded, giving instruction, as always.

Ruby Dee went back inside and put fresh sheets on Lonnie’s and Will’s beds. Will’s bed looked so comfortable when she finished that she lay right down on it and fell asleep for nearly an hour. When she awoke, she smoothed it over perfectly, so he wouldn’t be able to tell she had slept there. It embarrassed her to think she had done that. Sometimes she was pretty silly.

Back down in the kitchen, she made lemonade. While she was doing it, Will Starr called to make certain everything was okay. She told him about Georgia Reeves stopping by, so she wouldn’t forget later. She didn’t want him thinking she couldn’t be trusted with a message, and she didn’t want that Georgia Reeves thinking she deliberately hadn’t told him. She realized that many people would consider her silly for thinking that about Georgia Reeves, but most people didn’t have as good an understanding of women as Ruby Dee did.

She took two glasses of the lemonade and a plate of crackers spread with peanut butter into Hardy Starr’s bedroom. He was reclining on his pillows, staring out the window.

“I
made lemonade, Mr. Starr...from real lemons.”

He looked at her, then back out the window.

Ruby Dee set his glass and the plate of peanut butter crackers on his bedside table; then she pulled the ladderback chair from against the wall and sat beside his bed. She sipped her lemonade, and then ate one of the crackers. She considered what to do about Hardy Starr. He was really beginning to worry her.

Seeing the remote control for the television, she picked it up and aimed it at the TV. “Does this work?” The television came on with a crackle—the
Donahue Show.
“Isn’t television a miracle? We can see other people arguing all the way from New York City. If you want my opinion, one of the things wrong with the world today is TV talk shows. Glorifies people at their worst.”

Hardy Starr didn’t say anything. It was really annoying, the way he sat there, annoying and worrisome.

She had seen many people like this, giving up on living. Her job was to snatch them back from the clutches of futility, but she felt herself failing with him. That scared the daylights out of her. She sure didn’t want another old person dying on her.

“Mr. Starr, I know you don’t want me here, but somebody has to be, and frankly, I’m a lot better at this than either of your sons. They can ranch, and I can take care of people. You play your cards right, and you’ll be glad to have me here.” She gave him a saucy, sexy look and winked.

His pale eyes regarded her for three long seconds. “I ain’t wanted anythin’ from a woman in twenty-five years, and I sure don’t now that I’m an old man, so you can just take yer wiles right on out that door.” He gazed at her as if she were disgusting.

Tears welled in Ruby Dee’s eyes. She rose and carefully put the chair back against the wall. Then she stepped beside the bed and leaned over, braced her arm on the mattress edge and jutted her face toward Hardy Starr.

“You may be old, Mr. Starr, but you are still alive. You still have your mind and your mobility, such as it is. There are millions of people in this world who can’t say the same. And yes, you are old, but that doesn’t mean you’re no-account. All those years made you tough—that’s why you’re still alive. It takes tough people to handle being old. And what’s more, at eighty-five or a hundred and eighty-five, you’re still a
man.
I think you’ve forgotten that, and I’ve just been tryin’ to remind you!”

Shaking with emotion, she left him. In the kitchen, she hugged Sally and railed at God for giving her a job she just wasn’t up to. She had lost her talent, she thought. She had lost her gift, and she didn’t much care, either. Here she was thirty years old, and what did she have to show for it? Broken romances, a lot of dead old people, and a barren womb.

She wanted to sit there and cry, but she felt herself sinking into such a pit of despair that it scared her. What would happen if Will Starr came in and found her on the floor, crying?

She got up and made supper, because she couldn’t think of another thing to do, and if she didn’t do something, she was likely to go crazy.

When she searched the refrigerator, she was disappointed to find that she had been wrong about another plain yellow onion’s being in there. All she had was two slices of the Vidalia left, and half of the slice she had given Hardy Starr, because he hadn’t eaten all of it. Someone leaving half of a sweet Vidalia was so sad.

* * * *

Hardy picked up the television remote, clicked off the television and threw the remote on the floor. He thought the gal might hear it and come running back in, but she didn’t. Went to show just how much attention she paid a patient, he thought.

He listened carefully, and he thought he heard her crying. Women...they worked at a man with their tears! Then he heard her moving around, heard the kitchen radio come on. The gal was annoying with that radio. Made him think of Lila and her running around. Lila had been crazy for honky-tonk music.

All the previous night and all that day, Hardy had been trying his best to think himself dead, and that he had not succeeded made him mad. He most generally had always done what he set out to do. The few things he had failed at were lulus, though—saving Jooney, satisfying Lila.

He supposed he would have to consider the horse that had ruined his leg pretty much of a failure, too, since he’d thought he had the bugger well broke. He had not done well in raising Lonnie, but then, that hadn’t been something he had really set out to do, either.

He lay there and listened to the gal’s movements in the back of the house.

“You’re still a man.”
Her words echoed in his mind. She had meant them. The passion he had seen in her eyes had surprised him.

He reflected on the statement. He wasn’t so certain as to the truth of it. Hell, he was eighty-five years old. What could be expected of him at this age?

He tried to go back to thinking himself dead. Though he had not succeeded, he wasn’t ready to give up.

* * * *

The sun was far to the west when they got the last cows and calves separated and headed into an adjoining pasture. Lonnie leaned on his saddle horn and wiped sweat from his eyes with his sleeve that was soaked and dirty, too. He really hated to be dirty.

He heard Will give off a curse and saw him spur his horse into action. Too late, though. Will yelled and pointed. A cow and its calf had gotten separated, and now the calf was racing along the fence. The dang thing squeezed through, and then it and the mama were loping away. There was never any understanding why the stupid critters did these things. About six cows decided to turn around then, and Lonnie had to help Wildcat get them. A handful of cows could sure wreak havoc. And there wasn’t anything more difficult than trying to herd one damn straying cow with her calf. Lonnie was for leaving her.

“We still got ‘em...what in the hell difference does it make which side of the fence they’re eatin’ on?” he said.

“I guess the difference between havin’ eight hundred dollars or goin’ hungry,” Will answered, real smart-like.

Lonnie gazed at him, keeping his jaw tight.

Will was separating the cattle because he was cutting out what was his. He hadn’t said it, but Lonnie knew that was what was going on.

Lonnie knew that Will was counting and separating the herd because he was still planning on leaving. He was a little amazed at Will staying angry this long. Will had a pretty good temper, one as hot as the blue flame on a gas jet. But generally, Will managed to keep a cool head even when that gas jet was burning inside him. Him staying so hot-headed for this long was highly unusual.

A dozen times that day, Lonnie had wanted to talk to Will about it, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to broach the subject. He was afraid of what Will would say. Better to let sleeping dogs lie was his opinion.

He hoped, counted on it all blowing over. These situations generally did blow over once people calmed down. Of course there was no getting around that Will didn’t seem to be calming down. That did not bode well at all. Still, Lonnie kept hoping for the best.

“We need rain,” Will said after they had loaded the lathered horses into the trailer.

Lonnie looked around. He wondered what made Will say that; everything looked the same to him as it had a month ago, as it would a month from now. Still, Will was the rancher. He could smell rain or a dry spell a month away. To Lonnie, the land was just something that helped him have horses, but he didn’t need it.

He had the sudden, vague but startling thought that Will went with the land. Neither this land nor Lonnie’s life would have been the same without Will. He didn’t understand these thoughts...didn’t want to understand them.

All three men crammed back inside the pickup, not bothering to turn on the air conditioning, and headed home. Wildcat started telling them what was on television that night. It was his and Charlene’s favorite night for situation comedies. Wildcat couldn’t recall the year he turned forty, but he knew the names of all the actors and which years their television shows had run since the beginning of television. That fact was interesting, but his telling them all was boring as hell.

The minute they turned into the drive, Lonnie looked anxiously for Ruby Dee’s car. He was relieved to see it still there beside the barn. He turned his gaze to the house in anticipation. He wasn’t certain which he looked forward to most: the food or seeing Ruby Dee. He just couldn’t get over there being a woman like Ruby Dee in the house. To his mind it was a phenomenon befitting deliberate enjoyment.

They got the horses out of the trailer, rubbed down and put away. After that, Will sent Wildcat on home.

“I sure appreciate it,” Wildcat said. “Charlene gets real put out if I’m late on Monday nights.”

As Wildcat drove off, Lonnie rolled his sleeves up, and Will lit a cigarette.

Lonnie said, “My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut. I could eat a five-pound steak, with potatoes.”

“We got stock to feed first,” Will said, shaking out his match.

“It won’t hurt none of them to wait while we get a bite to eat. We got light for another three hours.”

But Will said, “I don’t want to have to be comin’ back out to take care of it. You get the stock in the west pasture. I’ll take care of the horses.”

Will’s tone got under Lonnie’s skin. “Will, did it ever occur to you that I’m not some hired hand?”

Will looked at him a second. “Suit yourself. I’ll handle it.” He strode away to the barn.

Frustrated as all get-out, Lonnie fed the livestock, just as Will had told him to do. He thought about how, all his life, he had been doing whatever Will told him. He didn’t see how it would hurt Will any to
ask
him to do something.

Lonnie never had been one to stay mad for long, however, and by the time they had finished the chores and were on their way to the house, his good humor had returned. When he stepped into the kitchen, he figured he had stepped into heaven.

The room smelled of spicy meat, and Ruby Dee was as flushed as a ripe peach. Turning from the stove, she said, “I hope y’all like chicken fajitas.”

Lonnie threw his hat aside and reached for her. “Ruby Dee, I could kiss you!”

He would have, too, but he caught a warning look in her eye. A sternness that surprised and embarrassed him. But his pride wouldn’t let him release her, so he settled for dancing her around the kitchen, as if that had been his intent all along.

Chapter 10

“I don’t see why your daddy couldn’t sit in here, too,” Ruby Dee said. “He’s not sick; he only has a hurt ankle. I’ll go ask him to join us.”

She strode out of the kitchen, while Will stared after her, and got an overall sinking feeling.