Summer Island

“No, thanks. I try to avoid carbohydrates layered with chocolate. ”

Ruby set the table, then dished up two plates and sat down.

Nora sat down across from her. “Did you sleep well last night?” she asked, pouring syrup in a tiny puddle by her pancakes.

Ruby had forgotten that her mother dipped each bite of pancake into syrup. The quirk reminded her of all the bits and pieces of their common life; the things that inextricably bound a mother and daughter, whether Ruby wanted those ties or not. “You already asked me that. ”

Noras fork clanged on the plate edge. “Tomorrow Ill remember to wear a Kevlar vest under my nightgown. ”

“What am I supposed to do? Be like Caroline-pretend everything is fine between us?”

“My relationship with Caroline is not for you to judge,” Nora said sharply, looking up at her. “Youve always thought you knew everything. I used to think it was a good trait for a girl to have, but theres a dark side to all that certainty, Ruby. You . . . hurt people. ” Ruby saw her mother swell up with anger; and then as quickly fade into a tired thinness. “But I suppose its not entirely your fault. ”

“Not entirely? How about not at all my fault?”

“I left Caroline, too. It didnt make her cold and hard and unable to love people. ”

Now that pissed Ruby off. “Who said I couldnt love people? I lived with Max for five years. ”

“And where is he now?”

Ruby pushed back from the table and stood up. Suddenly she wanted distance between them.

Nora looked up. There was a gentle understanding in her gaze that didnt sit well with Ruby. “Sit down. We wont talk about anything that matters. Ill comment on the weather; if you like. ”

Ruby felt like a fool standing there, breathing too hard, showing exactly how deeply shed been wounded by her mothers remark.

“Ruby Elizabeth, sit down and eat your breakfast. ” Her mother spoke in one of those voices that immediately turned a grown woman into a child. Ruby did as she was told.

Nora took a bite of bacon. Her chewing was a loud crunch-crunch-crunch. “We need to go grocery shopping. ”

Fine. "

“How about this morning?”

Ruby nodded. Finishing her last bite, she stood up and began cleaning the table. “Ill do the dishes. Well leave in about thirty minutes?”

“Make it an hour. I have to figure out how in the hell to do a sponge bath. ”

“I could lasso your leg and lower you into the bath like an anchor. ”

Nora laughed. “No, thanks. I dont want to drown naked with my leg stuck up in the air. The tabloids would have a field day with that. ”

The remark took a moment to sink in. When it did,

Ruby turned back to the table. “I wouldnt let you drown. ”

“I know. But would you rescue me?” Without waiting for an answer; Nora spun around and rolled into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Ruby stood there, staring at the closed door.

Would you rescue me?

The Benevolent Order of the Sisters of St. Francis had first come to Summer Island during World War One. A generous donor (who had no doubt lived a life that imperiled his immortal soul) had granted them more than one hundred waterfront acres. The sisters, who were equally high-minded in spiritual and business matters, had opened a general store next to the dock that would become the ferry terminal. On the rolling acreage behind the store, theyd built a sanctuary that tourists never saw. They raised cattle and owned the most profitable apple orchard on the island. They wove their own cloth, dyed it with extracts from their own gardens, and hand-stitched it into brown robes. Their sanctuary was open to any of their order; as well as to any woman who sought refuge from an unhappy life. Such women were welcomed into the fold and given that precious commodity so missing from the hectic, violent outside world: time. Here, they could don the clothing of their grandmothers, do the. simple chores required of subsistence living, and commune with the God they felt theyd lost.

On Sundays, the sisters opened their small wooden chapel to their friends and neighbors. A priest from the monastery on a nearby island conducted quiet services in Latin. It was a humble church, where no one minded the cries of bored babies or the emptiness of a collection plate when times turned hard.

Theirs was still the only store on the island. Ruby pulled the minivan into the gravel parking lot behind the “He Will Provide” grocery store and parked beside a rusty pickup truck.