Summer Island

“Really?” It was a tiny word, barely spoken.

“Youre good at it. ”

Noras relief was so profound, she gasped. Only I you could have meant more to her in that moment. And yet even as the relief buoyed her, it dragged her down again, too, reminded her of all that shed lost this week.

“Thank you,” she said softly. Finally, she looked up, and found Ruby watching her through narrowed eyes.

“I take it you read a few of your new letters,” Ruby said, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She seemed to see it all-the shaking hands, the television remote that had been thrown onto the floor.

Nora wanted to say something casual and flip, to show how meaningless a few ugly letters were, but she couldnt. “They hate me now. ”

“Theyre strangers. They dont even know you They cant love you or hate you, not really. ” Ruby flashed a smile. “Leave the big, ugly emotions to your family. ”

Who also hated her.

That only made it worse. “What family?” Nora moaned quietly. “Really, Ruby . . . what family have I left myself?” Ruby looked at her for a long minute, then said, “After I read your columns, you know what I remembered?”

Nora wiped her eyes. “What?”

"When I was twelve years old-seventh grade-and my class elected me to run the first tolo.

Remember? It was a big deal on Lopez, a dance where the girls asked the boys. Mr. Lundberg, down at the hardware store, said it meant that the world was going to hell in a leaky towboat. "

Nora sniffled again. “Yeah . . . I remember that. ”

“I wanted the local newspaper to cover the event. You were the only one who didnt laugh at me. ” Ruby smiled. “I watched you charm that fat old editor from the Island Times. I remember being surprised by how easily you got him to agree to what you wanted. . . what I wanted. ”

Nora remembered that day for the first time in years. “The minute I walked into that cheesy, airless office, I loved it. The smell of the paper; the clacking of typewriters. I envied the reporters, with their ink-stained fingers and for the first time in my life, I felt as if I belonged somewhere. Id always known I had words banging around in my chest, but Id never known what to do with them. ” She looked up.

Rubys gaze was solemn. “I realized . . . Later . . . that Id shown you the way out of our lives. ”

Nora took a deep breath. “I didnt leave my family for a career; Ruby. That had nothing to do with my decision. Less than nothing. ”

“Yeah, right. ”

“Ah, Ruby,” she said, "you want answers, but you dont even know what the questions are. You have to look at the beginning of a thing, not the end. For me, leaving your dad started before I met him

“ I dont understand. ”

Nora wanted to ask her daughter if all this talking would actually lead them anywhere, or if it was just a way to pass the hours before they each moved on. A part of her-the cowardly part-wanted to change the subject, maybe talk about Dean or Eric, but she wouldnt let herself take the easy way. She and Ruby were finally approaching something that mattered.

She stared out the window. Night was falling, drizzling dark syrup down the evergreen trees. “My dad was an alcoholic. When he was sober; he was almost human, but when he was drunk-which was most of the time-he was pit-bull mean. It was a secret I learned to keep from everyone. Its what children of alcoholics do. They keep secrets. Hell, it took me fifteen years of therapy to even say the word alcoholic. ”

Rubys mouth fell open a little. “Huh? You never told us that. ”

“On a farm like ours, the neighbors couldnt hear a womans scream. Or a young girls. And you learn fast that it doesnt help to cry out . . . to reach out. Instead, you try to get smaller and smaller; hoping that if you can become tiny enough, and still enough, hell pass You by. ”

“He abused you?”

Such a thin word, abuse. “He didnt do the worst thing a father can do to his daughter; but he . . . molded me. I grew up trying to be invisible, flinching all the time. I dont think I stood up straight until I left your father. ” She leaned forward, making direct eye contact with her daughter. “For years, I thought that if I didnt talk about my dad, hed float out of my life . . . out of my nightmares. I thought I could forget him. ”

Ruby drew in a sharp breath. “Did it work?”

Nora knew her daughter was making the connection:Id forgotten you. “No. All it did was give him more power . . . and turn me into a woman who couldnt imagine being loved. ”

“Because your own father didnt love you. ”

“Not unlike how a girl would feel if her own mother abandoned her. ” Nora wouldnt let herself look away. “Did you ever fall in love . . . after Dean?”