Moon over Madeline Island by Jay Gilbertson Page B

never been partial to chocolate with peanut butter, but I see the appeal.”
    I nod and smile. “Are you really going to sell your house? I mean, you could rent or—”
    â€œOh I suppose I could.” She opens another Reese’s. “But really, I’m not the landlady type.”
    â€œMe either. It’s really the best time to move on, while the iron’s hot, so to speak. My business is great, clients are wonderful but I click into autopilot and drift through the days. Must explain why so often lately I haven’t the foggiest idea what day it is. I hadn’t realized it until I got away from it. You know what I mean?”
    â€œ Do I,” Ruby says with vigor. “When you’ve mastered a thing, eventually it becomes second nature and you stop being there. I certainly know what that feels like. I felt that daze when Ed died. I knew how to be ‘Ed and Ruby’ so well, I forgot who I was.”
    â€œI would love to not be in a business that has my varicose veins under pressure, not to mention those chemicals.”
    â€œLet’s unhook,” Ruby says slowly. “Sell out and pack up as soon as possible. Why not?”
    â€œI don’t know…. I haven’t any loose ends, I guess,” I say, thinking. “Maybe Watts would consider managing the salon. Or Dorothy. No, she’s not the salon-manager type. Then again, neither is Watts, but I’d love to help her out. Dorothy’s got a husband and all those kids to feed and fuss over, but Watts—I know she could use the extra money, but more importantly, this will give her some responsibility, the boost into being independent. I’d really like her to have that.”
    â€œHow that Watts dresses, all those torn clothes, but I must say, she’s a feisty one—and you need that to run a salon.”
    â€œI love how she dresses; it’s her style. Besides, I’ve been saving since junior high school. I do have an IRA and a little money invested, thanks to that handsome man at Bank One. Damn, it’s sick how much it takes to live. How much is enough?”
    â€œMoney. You know, it seems to mean more to people all the time. “More” certainly is the word of the hour, week…whatever. But as far as my money goes”—Ruby pats my arm—“I have a little savings, the house and cottage both paid for, but—I’m not actually dripping with cash; I only dress that way. Having all this class is such a burden at times.”
    â€œYou smell something? Really though, what better motivation for finding some sort of income source than food, cigarettes and property taxes? We’ll simply have to…rob a bank.”
    â€œEven though Ed’s grandfather ran a successful trucking company and left his only son—Ed’s father—well taken care of, he was a big spender. Very showy, lots of fancy parties and such. So by the time it got to Ed, there wasn’t a whole lot left.”
    â€œOh man—I want this to work, but we’d have to make some dough, ya know?”
    â€œEnough to cover the basics. Besides, I can’t imagine a little thing like money stopping the likes of us.”
    â€œYou know, we’re just crazy enough…”
    â€œCertifiable…I hear you chatting it up with your clients. Chucking about all those encouraging adjectives like candy. Isn’t it about time you did some just-do-it, sisters? Hmmm?”
    I smile and nod—busted by the Brit. Again.
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    I’ve dropped off Ruby at her place and am back upstairs sitting in my apartment, sipping a mug of Sleepy Time tea and thinking, while Rocky purrs in my lap. Looking around, I wonder if I’ll miss it here. I will. I won’t.
    Odd how small it feels. Closed in, and there’s not much of a view from any of my windows either. Unless you call looking at an alley or on to a busy street a view. Funny, I used to love these views. Now