RUBY
September 1942
September 1, 1942
Dear Ruby Red,
It was darn aces to see you the other week, even if the reason was something less than keen. Mother gone. Can you believe it? I thought she was too reliable for any sort of illness or dying foolery. The best battleship ever conceived.
My Red, it’s up to you. I hate putting on the squeeze but it’s the truth. This is Very Serious Business. You’re the heart of this family now, especially with the bun in that oven. Don’t let your grief get in the way of your obligations.
Enough of that. Well. You asked me to write when I got “home.” Wherever that is. Right now I’m at the Davis-Monthan base in Tucson, AZ. Lord, I’m ready to be done with this training but we need it, and how. Flying these B-24s is like trying to fly a damned house, a pain in the rear even for yours truly, the strongest man to ever live. (Ha! Stop rolling your eyes!) And as nose gunner, I’m the guy who drops the bombs, which means a whole added level of complexity. Sorry, I’m boring you with my woes. The boys from Harvard find these stories endlessly fascinating but you’re too high-minded for such talk.
Okay Red, you keep doing your thing. Don’t worry about me, or Sam, or P.J. for that matter. I saw a poster the other day outside the local watering hole—“The U.S. Needs Us Strong” it said. It was an advertisement for cheese bobbies so not exactly the thing on which hopes, dreams, or great countries are built. But the message is right, in any case.
I love you, Ruby. I can’t wait until we blast Hitler to Kingdom come and the lot of us can get back to meeting up in Sconset every summer, like we’re meant to. Much better than time spent in a tin coffin, hurtling through the air. Sorry, sis! It’s just part of the job.
Take care of yourself.
All my love,
Your brother,
Topper
* * *
Daddy came out to Cliff House for the last weekend. Not because he wanted to, despite what he said, but because he had to.
Who else would help Ruby close it up? Mother, dead. Two brothers and one husband, in the service. No able-bodied men to hire because they were fighting, too. Even Mary was gone, training in Washington just as she’d threatened to do. Ruby hadn’t thought she’d actually leave, but it seemed Mother’s death was the kick Mary was waiting for.
The U.S. Needs Us Strong, Ruby repeated to herself over and over, so she didn’t fall into a sobbing heap on the floor. Red, you keep doing your thing.
“I’m going back with you,” Daddy said, three days ago, when they’d gathered at the Youngs’ house on Commonwealth Ave. mere hours after burying Mother in Boston. “We’ll close up the summer place together.”
Ruby could almost hear Mother screaming blue murder. As good as Daddy looked a week before, he’d aged a decade in but seven days. Ruby was pregnant but nonetheless in much better shape to close Cliff House, no bones about it. Alas, without the gentle guiding voice of Mother, Ruby couldn’t quite find her way.
And so Philip Young returned to Sconset with his daughter, so they could conclude the season together. On the final night, they danced at the club like it was any old summer. Dad made a good show of standing tall, though he was brittle through his suit. As the band played “Someone to Watch Over Me,” Ruby bit down on her tongue to control her tears.
“Gorgeous night, eh petal?” Daddy said, trying to keep Ruby moving across the floor.
“Lovely,” she answered, then clenched down harder.
“Sarah adored Labor Day Weekend.”
Ruby nodded, once again hearing her mother’s voice in her mind.
“What are you fussing about, Ruby?” she’d say, for Ruby was always a little boo-hoo at that last oyster party and during the farewell dance. “The end? Why, Ruby dear, the end is the best part. All the sugar is at the bottom of the cup.”
Of course, there was hardly any sugar left in America these days.
Insides trembling, Ruby rested her chin on Daddy’s shoulder so he could not see her face.
“You hear from Mary yet?” he asked.
“Not since the funeral. I’m glad things are going well for her.”
Gosh darn it, Ruby missed that old gal, their favorite wet sock. Everyone needed a straight man and Cliff House had lost hers, for now. Another part Ruby would have to play. Jesus, this cast was getting slim. Ruby wondered how much more she’d have to take on.
“P.J. must be proud,” Daddy said, spinning his daughter as much as his whittling strength would allow.
“We all are,” she said.
Daddy spun her again and Ruby let her weary body be dragged along. Lord, was she tired. Every piece of her was heavy and untethered. Even Ruby’s stomach, so often jumpy from the babe, was melancholy and still.
“And how is Sam?” Daddy asked. “Bound for the South Pacific, you said?”
“Yes, sir. Should be en route, aboard some newfangled vessel. They christened it with champagne and everything. The finest ship ever built, or so they claim. It’d better be anyway.”
Funny how Ruby once regarded a ship as safer than a tank or plane. Meanwhile, the papers contained a never-ending barrage of reports about shot-up and sunken battleships. Ruby never considered that on a boat you could get pummeled from the water, shore, and sky.
“The latest and greatest is the right spot for our Sam,” Daddy said. “Of course it’ll be impossible to completely relax until they’re all home.”
Ruby sighed. Daddy was making her feel worse, the poor lug. Mother said half his sweetness was in his scientific nature, the very black-and-white of him. He never knew the right thing to say, which was aggravating but made him real and true.
“Yes,” Ruby said. “Peace seems very far away.”
As Daddy turned her around, Ruby caught sight of a military man standing at the edge of the dance floor. He was in a blue coat and black pants, his golden belt and buttons sparkling in the ballroom lights. With his cropped black hair and regal air, Ruby had to catch herself. For a second, she thought it was Sam, even though he would’ve been togged out head to toe in blue.
“Daddy, who’s that fellow?” Ruby asked.
The man was strange, but not a stranger, which made it odder still. He was an army man, judging from the garb.
“What’s that?” Daddy said.
“Who’s that man?” she asked again. “That officer?”
As Ruby continued to stare, her brain buzzed. The stranger offered a small wave.
“Why, it’s Topper’s friend!” Daddy said. “That Nick fellow, from college. Come on, let’s go say hello.”
* * *
“Nick Cabot, you old devil,” Daddy said, shaking Nick’s hand with vigor, or at least as much vigor as he could muster. “Good to see you, sport. What brings you to the island?”
“Here to visit some friends before I ship out,” Nick said, holding his hat against his heart. “I hoped to see Topper but haven’t heard from him in a while. Hello there, Ruby. You look beautiful as always.”
“Thanks,” she said with a sniff, trying to work out why he made her so goosey.
What was it he’d said about Hattie? There’s simply nothing to her. He called her an egoist—a would-be hedonist, too. As the memories came into full view, Ruby gave Nick the old side-eye and a little harrumph.
“Topper, he’s…?” Nick winced. “He’s okay, right?”
“Far as we know,” Daddy said. “The boy’s still training in Arizona. Sorry he’s been silent but don’t take it personal. Ruby’s the only one he regularly keeps up with. I go to her for all the nitty-gritty. Anyhow, I’ll leave you two for a catch-up. I need to step outside.”
Ruby studied him. Daddy looked peaky. His face was shiny, dribbles of sweat collecting above his brows. It wasn’t even warm that night. A certain fear poked Ruby, sharp in her stomach.
“So, Ruby,” Nick said, and forced a grin. “You look swell.”
“Yes, you mentioned that,” she grumbled.
Nick gave her a perplexed squint. He was handsome, rich, and famously lettered in every sport available at every school he’d attended. For Mr. Cabot it was probably a major twist that a gal wouldn’t devour his flattery.
“I heard about your mother,” Nick said. “I’m so very sorry. She was a gem.”
Ruby smiled wanly and clutched her stomach. The man was giving her fits. Even her body knew the guy was shady as a cedar grove. Either that or her new girdle was screwy. It was at once too tight, or her bladder too full. This pregnancy devilry was nuts, her body changing by the hour.
Suddenly something trickled out of Ruby. Dear God. She’d been warned by women who knew, but it seemed far too early to be wetting her drawers.
After hastily excusing herself from Nick Cabot’s questionable company, Ruby hustled toward the ladies’ and hitched her panty girdle down. At once she wailed in pain, though dull cramps were the only physical sensation. This pain was from her heart, her hopes, and her dreams. The pain was from seeing her underwear’s confident, innocent, white satin sheen completely doused in blood.
* * *
He was going to be named Robert. They planned to call him Bobby.
Ruby telegrammed Sam but for the longest time did not hear back. At first she feared the worst because this was war and the worst was surely to come. Finally, Sam answered back with one word. HEARTBROKEN.
The dreams that would never come.