CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jill
Sunday
They found Fee waiting outside; she was barefoot with her jeans rolled to her knees. “Thank God,” she said as Jill and Keith walked up the path. She held her phone up. “I can’t get hold of the plumber. I’ve left two messages already. And the Monroes will be here any minute. Am I done here?”
Jill just wanted to get a look at the damage. Fee was a distraction. “Yes. Go.”
Once inside, Jill led the way to the bathroom. A steady stream of water gushed from under a bank of three new sinks. The interior designer had talked her into the handblown-glass-vessel–style basins. At over a thousand dollars each, plus the supporting slab of granite, she would have thought they came with plumbing.
“Do you have a wrench?” Keith asked from his crouch under the sinks.
“Out in the shed. I’ll be right back.”
Jill ran over the flagstone path and sensed, somehow, that the tributary forming under her sinks was not the true source of the crush she felt to her chest. Where the devil was her mother? The toolbox was crazy heavy, but somehow she lugged it back to the bathroom. Keith found what he was looking for and began strong-arming the knob to the left. Fee had had the presence of mind to blanket the tile floor with old towels, and Jill was kept busy arranging them as the eddies of water dictated.
“Would you excuse me a moment?” she asked. “Fee said she didn’t know where my mom is. I just want to have a look.”
“Sure,” Keith grunted. The knob was not budging easily.
Jill hurried to their private quarters and began calling, “Mom? Where are you, Mom?” There was no reply. The usual places were searched: their private family room, Ruby’s room, Jill’s room, Fee’s room. She also checked the public rooms: the lounge, dining room, and library. She then jogged upstairs and, with a master key, opened unoccupied guest rooms. Ruby was nowhere to be found.
When Jill returned, Keith was wiping his soiled hands on a guest towel. “Finished.”
Keith followed Jill into the kitchen, where she proceeded to rifle through the deep corners of the large walk-in pantry.
“Did you lose something?” he asked.
“My mother.”
“How do you lose a mother?”
Jill tapped her knuckle to her bottom lip. “It’s easier than you’d think.” She stepped over to the window and looked out to the pond and woods beyond. The sun would be setting soon, and the storms which had threatened earlier were now pressing down in the forms of char-tinged clouds. “More and more, I suspect it’s some kind of early dementia. For a long time it was just little things, but it’s getting worse. She’s always been a character, operating by her own set of rules, but lately . . . And I can’t go to the police. Not unless I have something concrete to report.”
“It’s a missing person, right? They have to help.”
“Not for twenty-four hours they don’t.” She shook her head. “Trust me, I’ve been here before. About a month ago, I got a call from some guy two miles away. He found her sleeping on his deck chair. And I don’t want to describe her fondness for Sam’s Bar, or casinos.” Jill ran her fingers through her hair and exhaled loudly. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, flipped it open, and punched a number into its keypad. She stared ahead for a few moments and then snapped it shut. “Where the hell is Jocelyn?” Hating the fact she needed further assistance, she turned to face Keith. “Would you help me?”
“Of course,” he said. “You know I would.”
“I’ll grab us a couple of flashlights and then I think we should take a walk around the pond.”
“Whatever you need.”
In the garage, she found a Maglite and a camping lantern. She handed Keith the lantern and directed him to follow her down the path that led from the back of the house to the pond. Hearing a crack of thunder in the distance, she thought maybe they should run back to the house for raincoats, but one look to the murky pond water had her pressing forward.
Fat raindrops began to fall on her bare arms, and she was surprised how quickly the sky was inking over and at the sudden drop in temperature.
“What makes you think she’s out here?” Keith spoke loudly to be heard over the sudden spill of rain.
“I’ve looked all through the house. It’s just the next logical place. Sometimes she likes to sit in the Adirondacks and look at the water.”
“Would she stay out in this weather, though?” A flash of lightning lit the sky, kindling Keith’s face with an eerie incandescence.
“I don’t know. She’s been acting strange the last couple of days, muttering about broken hearts, and wicked widows, and dead men. Then again, last month she went on a three-day tirade complaining of babies keeping her awake all night and cold doctor’s hands.” Jill brushed wet bangs off her forehead. “I hope I don’t have to tell you that there are no babies or icy-fingered doctors at our place.”
They reached the spot where the two chairs faced onto the pond and small wooden dock. An old rowboat was roped to the end of the rickety wooden platform. Jill stepped onto the wooden planks and pulled the boat close. Ruby was not much of a boater, or swimmer for that matter. Jill really didn’t think she’d venture onto, or into, the water.
As if reading her mind, Keith asked, “What now?”
Jill shielded her eyes from the rain that was now pouring freely and looked to the thick woods that loomed over the back side of the pond. She pointed. “I see something shiny on the ground over there.”
“Is that your property?”
“Technically, no. The owner only comes around during hunting season, though.” It was dark enough now that Jill switched on the flashlight.
After a brisk walk, they reached the edge of the trees. Jill bent to retrieve a silver-labeled bottle that lay in the center of a dirt path. “This is one of my wines.”
Keith took it from Jill and turned it over in his hand. “But it could have come from any of your guests, right?”
“Except it’s new. I only received this case today.”
“What about Jocelyn? Where is she?”
Jill shook her head. “She’d drink the wine all right, but Jocelyn’s idea of a walk involves a mall and shopping bags. Plus, Fee said she was all dressed up and wearing heels.”
“And Fee?”
“No. Definitely not. There’s something going on with her, but I don’t think it involves drinking.”
He gestured behind him with his thumb. “What’s back there?”
“Besides trees, just an old hunting lodge, a one-room cabin that hasn’t been used in ages. There used to be an interior road from the highway, but its bridge washed out a few years ago. It’s only accessible by foot now. And from here, it’s a hike.”
The rain picked up.
“Why would your mom go there?”
Jill took the bottle back from Keith. She was worried, and irritated, and cold, and just plain old tired of people letting her down. She dropped the bottle. “Probably drunk for starters. And just following the path.” Her forearms were wet and she rubbed them in an attempt to generate heat. “Maybe she’s just walking that way and we’ll overtake her on the path.” She looked up, craning her head to see into the dark woods. “But I never know why people do half the things they do. And I’ve had it with trying to figure them out.” There was a bite to her voice and an involuntary roll of her eyes that implicated more than her mother. She could see his surprise and think of no other escape than to follow the path into the woods.
Footsteps crunched urgently behind her. She quickened the pace. Keith pulled on her right arm. “Are you mad at me?”
She pulled her arm back defensively. Had she been the confrontational type, she’d have replied that yes, she was mad, because she had worries enough to fill her sleepless nights without visions of Jocelyn and Keith together again horning in. “I’ve seen you once in fifteen years. What could I be mad about?”
“It sure sounds like you are.” They were under a huge oak with limbs that hovered just above their heads. The tree gave them momentary shelter from the downpour, but the rain was still loud as it pelted the woods around them. “And it’s twice actually.”
“What?”
“I’ve seen you twice in fifteen years.” Lightning split the sky with a deafening crack and he instinctively pulled her into their small arbor of protection. “I saw you years ago when I was home for Hester’s birthday. I came in with my father and we took her out to dinner at the Hitzel Haus. You were there.”
“What?”
Twigs crunched under his feet. “I would have said hello, but you were with a date: small guy, big eyes.”
Leave it to the big man to size up the little one. “So?”
“I watched him give you a small box wrapped with a big red ribbon. He kissed you and held your hand. I didn’t want to intrude.”
Jill remembered the night. She and David Skovel were two years into their relationship. She had genuine affection for him, but when she saw the ring-size box, terror had iced her insides.
“It was pearl earrings. For my birthday.”
“How nice.”
“I lost one within a few weeks of receiving them.”
“Oh.”
Jill shivered as the dark and cold pressed in around them. “I remember the other time. I met Meredith.”
“You remember her name?”
Jill could smack herself, hard, for the gaffe. “She was very striking.”
“And controlling, and demanding, and impatient.”
Jill was grateful to have the situation with Ruby as a detour. She took a step toward the path. “I think the rain’s letting up a little. We really should keep going.”
The rain soaked through to her bra and panties, and the silly golf skort kept sticking to her thighs. She could feel, and even hear, the little footies squish inside her golf shoes, and her hair clung to her neck and shoulders in thick, wet ropes.
Finally, a flash of lightning revealed the hunting lodge in a narrow clearing. It was a small log structure with a tin-covered roof. As children, she and Jocelyn had often sneaked out to what they had considered their own secret clubhouse. Jill hadn’t been in years, but could still imagine the brick fireplace, simple pine table with mismatched chairs, and sagging bed with tick mattress.
She pushed open the heavy front door and stood peering into the gloom. It was dark and still, and smelled of must and wet wood. About to proclaim Ruby not there, Jill heard something near the hearth groan, and she swept her flashlight over the area.
“Look. What’s that on the ground?” she said.
Keith’s lantern swung as he strode the few steps it took to reach the prostrate form. Jill followed and reached his elbow just as he rolled Ruby onto her back.
“Oh my God.” Jill’s free hand covered her mouth.
“She’s bleeding. It looks like she fell and cut her head.” He whistled low. “It looks bad.” Lifting his lantern, he scanned the area. “There’s blood on the floor. A lot of it.” The light illuminated the shape of several dark logs scattered near the fireplace. “Would she have been trying to make a fire?”
Ruby moaned in pain and slowly opened her eyes. She looked wildly from Keith to Jill, and then back to Keith again. “I knew you’d come,” she said through clenched teeth, all the while holding Keith’s gaze.
“Mom, it’s me, Jill. Tell me, did you fall? Is that why you’re bleeding?”
Ruby lifted her hand to her head and winced at the touch. “It got so dark. I couldn’t see. Why did you make me wait so long?” She continued to look at Keith. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you? You know, don’t you?” Ruby began to cry. At first it was a small childish whimper, but then it became increasingly despondent. “I kept her close to me. She’s always been safe.”
Jill shook her head. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Probably a concussion.” She flipped open her cell phone. “Shit! No signal.” She exhaled in exasperation and looked at her mother, who continued to writhe in pain. “There’s no way the two of us can carry her. I’ll stay with her. Can you go back and call an ambulance? You’ll have to describe the situation to them. She’ll need to be carried out on a stretcher.” Ruby shivered, also wet with rain, Jill now realized. “She’s cold.”
Keith set down the lantern, yanked his golf shirt over his head, and threw it to Jill. “Apply pressure.” He started toward the door. “Keep her warm while I’m gone. We don’t want her going into shock. And don’t let her fall asleep.”
Keith was gone before Jill could comment. She eased herself down to the ground and wrestled her mother into a sitting position. Propping her back against the raised brick hearth, she pulled her mother up against her outstretched legs trying to make skin-to-skin contact at as many points as she could. Ruby continued to cry off and on. Jill kept Keith’s damp shirt, which smelled confoundedly of him, pressed against Ruby’s head and tried to shoosh her with comforting words, but Ruby became increasingly restless.
Jill was overcome with exhaustion and felt unwelcome tears come to her own eyes. They’d turned a corner and the view ahead was bleak. There was no way Jill would be able to watch her mother all hours of the day.
Ruby stirred again and her eyes chased through the room. “Has he gone again? Has he left me?”
“Who, Mom?”
“William. William, of course.”
Jill caressed her mother’s shoulder with her left hand. “That wasn’t William, Mom. William’s dead. Remember? That was his son, Keith.”
“I broke his heart, you know.”
Jill realized the need to keep Ruby awake and talking, but didn’t want to upset her with difficult memories. “It’s okay, Mom. That was a long time ago. You were just a girl.”
“I was a looker back then.”
Jill couldn’t help but smile. “I know. You were the town beauty.”
“Hester hated me, of course.”
“She hated a lot of people.”
“Me most of all.” Ruby’s body trembled. “I took her fiancé and I took her brother.” Ruby seemed to remember her surroundings and gestured toward the fireplace. “This was our meeting place. That’s how I knew he’d come here tonight. I was trying to make a fire. William always made us a fire. It was so cold that winter.” Ruby stirred and tried to pull up. “I need to make a fire.”
Jill managed to resettle her mother, and calm her, and veer the topic to something less troublesome. They spoke of Christmas mornings, and egg hunts, and Fourth of July parades down Main Street. All the while Jill, herself, was disquieted by time lines running through her head. Ruby and Daniel had never hidden the story of their courtship from their children. The summer of Daniel’s engagement to Hester and Ruby’s relationship with William was common knowledge. But this crazy talk? Jill prayed Ruby was delusional, because if not, the implications were overwhelming and the genesis of the altered course of so many lives—her own included.
When Jill finally heard voices approaching, one of them Keith’s, she had to wipe tears of relief from her numbed cheeks.