Summer Island

An almost comical look of surprise crossed her face. “You look . . . beautiful. ” Immediately, she flushed. “Im sorry. I shouldnt have sounded surprised. ”

“Its okay. I guess I didnt look so great with all that makeup on. ”

“Im not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. ”

Ruby laughed, and it felt good. “I need a haircut. Badly. Is there still a beauty salon in Friday Harbor?”

“I used to cut your hair. ”

Ruby hadnt remembered until that moment, but suddenly it came rushing back: Sunday evenings in the kitchen, a dishrag pinned around her neck with a clothespin, the soothing clip-clip-clip of the scissors, Dads steady turning of the newspaper pages in the living room. Ruby stood there a moment, strangely uncertain of what to do. She had a nagging sense that if she said the right thing now-in this heartbeat of time which felt steeped in sudden possibility-she could change things. She felt vulnerable suddenly, a child wearing her emotions like a kindergarten name tag. “Could you cut it again?”

“Of course. Get the towel, and a clothespin. The scissors should be here . . . ” Nora reached for her crutches and limped toward the utility drawer, where the scissors had always been kept.

Ruby was momentarily nonplussed, though she wasnt sure why. It seemed as if Nora were as eager as Ruby to avoid a breakfast conversation.

“Get the stool from the laundry room and take it outside. Its such a pretty morning. ”

Ruby gathered up the necessary supplies and carried everything outside. She set the stool on a nice flat patch of grass overlooking the bay and sat down on it.

She heard Nora coming toward her. Thump-step, thump-step. Down the porch steps and across the grass, her mother moved awkwardly, a woman clearly afraid of stepping into a hole and twisting her good ankle.

“Are you sure about this?” Ruby asked, watching her. “Im suddenly hearing you say oops! behind me, and I wind up with one of those horrible asymmetrical cuts from when I was in grade school. ”

Nora moved around behind Ruby. “Remember your sophomore year? You didnt use hairspray-you used boat lacquer. I was scared to death Id accidentally pat your head and shatter my wrist. ” Laughing, she wrapped the towel around Rubys neck and pinned it in place, then began running her fingers through Rubys still-damp hair.

Ruby released her breath in a sigh. It wasnt until she heard the sound--air hissing through her teeth--that she realized what she was feeling.

Longing, again.

“Im just going to give it some shape, okay?”

Ruby blinked, came stumbling out of the past. “Yeah,” she said. Her voice was barely audible. She cleared her throat and said again, louder, “Okay. ”

“Sit up straight. Quit fidgeting. ”

The steady snip-snip-snip of the scissors seemed to hypnotize Ruby, that and the comforting familiarity of her mothers touch.

Nora touched Rubys chin, tenderly forcing her to look straight ahead. Snip-snip-snip.

“Eric called me last night. He said youd visited him. ” Ruby closed her eyes. “Im not ready to talk about Eric,” she said quietly.

“Okay. Why dont you tell me about your life in Hollywood?”

Rubys first thought was: the article. “Theres not much to say. Its like living on the third floor of hell. I dont want to talk about that, either. ”

Nora paused; the scissors stilled. “I dont mean to pry. I just wonder who you have become. ”

“Oh. ” It wasnt something she thought much about-who she was. She usually concerned herself with who she wanted to be. Better to look ahead than behind, and all that. “I dont know. ”

“I remember when Doc Morane first put you in my arms. ” Nora paused in her cutting. “From the very beginning, you were fire and ice. Youd scream for what you wanted, but a hurt animal could reduce you to tears. You were walking by eight months and talking by two. And boy, did you have a lot to say. It was like living with a Chatty Cathy doll who could pull her own string. You never shut up. ”

Ruby realized suddenly that she missed herself, missed who she used to be. In forgetting her mother, shed misplaced herself. “What was I like?”

“You wanted a tattoo at twelve-the infinity symbol, I believe. You never pierced your ears, because everyone else did. You wanted to go to an ashram the summer you turned thirteen. You were afraid of the dark for a long, long time, and whenever there was a windstorm, I rolled closer to your dad in bed, because I knew youd come bolting into our room and crawl into bed with us. ” Nora turned to her, gently pushing the wet hair out of Rubys eyes. “Is every part of that girl gone?”

Ruby felt shaky suddenly, uncertain. “I never got my ears pierced. ”

“Thank you. ”