“I have to go now. ”
Nora nodded stiffly, trying to smile. “Of course. Thanks for coming. ” She wanted to reach Out for Caroline, hold her daughters hand, and never let go.
“Good-bye, Mom. ”
And she was gone.
Ruby stepped out of the main terminal at Seattle International Airport. Rain thumped on the sky bridge and studded the street, creating a pewter curtain between the terminal and the multilayered parking garage across the street.
The early morning air smelled of evergreen trees and fertile black earth. Like a dash of spice in a complex recipe, there was the barest tang of the sea; a scent only a local would recognize.
As she stood beneath this bloated gray sky, smelling the moist, pine-scented air; she realized that memories were more than misty recollections. They stayed rooted in the soil in which theyd grown. There were places up north, in the San Juan Island archipelago, where bi
ts and pieces of Rubys life had been left scattered about like seashells on the shore. Somewhere up there sat the shadow of a thin, bold-eyed girl on a pebbly beach, tearing the petals off a daisy, chanting He loves me; he loves me not. She knew that if she looked hard enough, she would be able to find the invisible trail shed left behind, the pieces of her that led from the present back to the past.
She wasnt surprised at how fresh the memories were. Nothing could ever dry up and turn to dust in the moist Seattle air. Everything thrived.
Ruby hailed a cab and climbed into the backseat, tossing her carry-on bag in beside her. She glanced at the cabbies registration (a habit shed formed during visits to New York) and saw that his name was AviAvivivi.
There was a joke in that, but she was too tired to go digging around for it. “Bayview,” she said, thumping back into the smelly brown velour seat.
Avi hit the gas and rocketed into the next lane.
Ruby closed her eyes, trying not to think of anything at all. It seemed like only a few minutes later; Avi was tapping her on the shoulder.
“Mrs. ? Maam? You are well, yes?”
Ruby jerked awake, rubbing her eyes. “Im fine, thanks. ” Fishing thirty rumpled dollars out of her pocket, she handed Avi the fare and tip. Then she grabbed her purse and bag, slung both straps over her shoulder; and headed toward the hospitals double glass doors, where a few people were milling about.
Ruby was almost in their midst when she realized they were reporters.
“Its her daughter!”
The reporters turned to her all at once, yelling above one another; elbowing for position.
“Ruby, look here!”
“Was your mother drunk at the time of-”
“What did you think of the photographs-”
Ruby heard every shutter click, every picture frame advance. She noticed the strand of hair that was stuck to her lower lip, the tiny paper cut on her index finger.
It was as if she were standing miles apart from the crowd, even though she could have reached out and touched the woman from CNN.
“Ruby! Ruby! Ruby!”
For a dizzying moment, she let herself pretend that this was for her; that she had earned this attention.
“Did you know about your mothers affair?”
At that, Ruby turned. She locked eyes with a small, beak-nosed man wearing a KOMO 4 hat. “No. ” She flashed a bright, fake smile. “Id make a joke about it, but its not very funny. ”
She pushed through the crowd, holding her head up, looking straight ahead. Their questions followed her; rocks thrown at her back, some hitting hard.
She strode through the pneumatic doors. They whooshed shut behind her.
Inside, it was quiet. The air smelled of disinfectant. Boldly patterned chairs dotted the vast white lobby. There were cheery, generic paintings on the walls, placed awkwardly between gilt-framed portraits of sour-looking men and women whod obviously donated millions to the hospital.