voracious as ever, her hunger insatiate. She opened her mouth but didn't say anything. She came over and gripped me in a hug so tight I could hardly breathe. She began to weep, saying my name over and over. "Lella, it's you. It's really you…"
"Watch it. You're getting my raincoat all wet." I swallowed the knot in my throat.
She stepped back, looking me over.
I smiled.
"Oh, you!" Then she started to cry again.
I cried too. She hadn't made it out of the accident without a scratch as I'd believed.
I moved in with Ruby. Kyle didn't approve but he kept his opinion to himself.
Neither Ruby nor I ever mentioned Nick.
I pruned her roses and ran errands with her, and she helped me look for a town house in Dana Point. By the time I closed escrow, Ruby was able to drive.
The day after I moved into my new place, she showed up at my door with a black kitten. Flash. It was a brand new beginning for each of us. That was four years ago. Four years of boring predictability. I would give anything to go back to that monotonous dullness, anything.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I sat at my kitchen table, eyes closed, searching for logic in this senseless situation. Shivers traveled through my body, but my hands burned hot against the cold glass of water and my mind's eye fought images of Kyle, Ruby and Larry.
Evening cloaked my home and my spirit. All my crying left me so drained I couldn't think straight. Poor Kyle. I couldn't bear to think about him in some dungeon-like, dangerous jail. I called the police department, trying to find out the address and the name of the detention place where Kyle was being held. Maybe I could call him, visit him, anything. Too soon, I was told, call back later. Between fits of desperation I phoned Bonnie's office, but reached a recording. Why did Kyle hire Bonnie? Larry's friend. How did Larry fit into this? Larry and Bonnie and the disposable phone I was instructed to answer. I had left the phone somewhere upstairs, and it was still there, unanswered. I kept the whole house dark and hoped by now even the most dedicated reporter would have given up and left.
The loud ring of the house phone startled me. I let the machine answer. "Damn it, Lella, I know you can hear me. Pick up the phone." Larry's voice was low and angry. I didn't move.
"Lella, I'm going to be at your front door in a minute. You can open the door or I'll let myself in. I don't want to attract attention, but if you don't care, we'll do it your way." A brief silence, then I heard the knob of my front door turn like magic. I jumped up and unlocked and yanked open the door. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing off his lock-picking skills. The outside lamp framed his silhouette, and I got a whiff of his aftershave when he came in.
"You can turn on the light. The reporters are gone. There's a smash-up on Ortega Highway with some drunken celebrity. They'll be busy for a while."
I didn't move. We stood so close I felt his body heat, but it didn't warm my heart. He stepped away and went to turn on the dining-room chandelier. When the light hit, my swollen eyelids burned like open wounds. If he noticed he didn't acknowledge it.
"I brought you some food."
I didn't want his food; I wanted to hurt him the way I was hurting. All my troubles began with him. I had a perfectly ideal life and that perfect life had been blown apart the day he called about Ruby.
He stood by the dining-room table, studying me. I sensed it even though his face was shaded and I couldn't see his eyes. He wore the same jacket he had on when he drove me to meet his friend Bonnie. He pretty much looked the same way he did this morning, and if new emotions found their way into his soul, he concealed them well.
"I brought you some food," he repeated, and put a brown bag on the table. A bag with the Cannon logo on it.
He folded his jacket over the back of a dining chair then pulled out containers from the bag. My silence didn't seem to disturb him. Soon I
"Watch it. You're getting my raincoat all wet." I swallowed the knot in my throat.
She stepped back, looking me over.
I smiled.
"Oh, you!" Then she started to cry again.
I cried too. She hadn't made it out of the accident without a scratch as I'd believed.
I moved in with Ruby. Kyle didn't approve but he kept his opinion to himself.
Neither Ruby nor I ever mentioned Nick.
I pruned her roses and ran errands with her, and she helped me look for a town house in Dana Point. By the time I closed escrow, Ruby was able to drive.
The day after I moved into my new place, she showed up at my door with a black kitten. Flash. It was a brand new beginning for each of us. That was four years ago. Four years of boring predictability. I would give anything to go back to that monotonous dullness, anything.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I sat at my kitchen table, eyes closed, searching for logic in this senseless situation. Shivers traveled through my body, but my hands burned hot against the cold glass of water and my mind's eye fought images of Kyle, Ruby and Larry.
Evening cloaked my home and my spirit. All my crying left me so drained I couldn't think straight. Poor Kyle. I couldn't bear to think about him in some dungeon-like, dangerous jail. I called the police department, trying to find out the address and the name of the detention place where Kyle was being held. Maybe I could call him, visit him, anything. Too soon, I was told, call back later. Between fits of desperation I phoned Bonnie's office, but reached a recording. Why did Kyle hire Bonnie? Larry's friend. How did Larry fit into this? Larry and Bonnie and the disposable phone I was instructed to answer. I had left the phone somewhere upstairs, and it was still there, unanswered. I kept the whole house dark and hoped by now even the most dedicated reporter would have given up and left.
The loud ring of the house phone startled me. I let the machine answer. "Damn it, Lella, I know you can hear me. Pick up the phone." Larry's voice was low and angry. I didn't move.
"Lella, I'm going to be at your front door in a minute. You can open the door or I'll let myself in. I don't want to attract attention, but if you don't care, we'll do it your way." A brief silence, then I heard the knob of my front door turn like magic. I jumped up and unlocked and yanked open the door. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing off his lock-picking skills. The outside lamp framed his silhouette, and I got a whiff of his aftershave when he came in.
"You can turn on the light. The reporters are gone. There's a smash-up on Ortega Highway with some drunken celebrity. They'll be busy for a while."
I didn't move. We stood so close I felt his body heat, but it didn't warm my heart. He stepped away and went to turn on the dining-room chandelier. When the light hit, my swollen eyelids burned like open wounds. If he noticed he didn't acknowledge it.
"I brought you some food."
I didn't want his food; I wanted to hurt him the way I was hurting. All my troubles began with him. I had a perfectly ideal life and that perfect life had been blown apart the day he called about Ruby.
He stood by the dining-room table, studying me. I sensed it even though his face was shaded and I couldn't see his eyes. He wore the same jacket he had on when he drove me to meet his friend Bonnie. He pretty much looked the same way he did this morning, and if new emotions found their way into his soul, he concealed them well.
"I brought you some food," he repeated, and put a brown bag on the table. A bag with the Cannon logo on it.
He folded his jacket over the back of a dining chair then pulled out containers from the bag. My silence didn't seem to disturb him. Soon I
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