Read Seasons of Her Life Online

Authors: Fern Michaels

Seasons of Her Life (64 page)

“You bitch!” Ruby seethed.
“Wait a minute, Ruby,” Amber said coldly, “I happen to agree with Opal. When he was alive, he never gave us anything but grief and heartache. Now that he's dead . . . well, we're entitled. I want what's mine, nothing more.”
“I don't goddamn believe this,” Ruby said, banging her fist on the table. “My memories aren't any fonder than yours. But that's our mother out there on the patio, not some lump. You disgust me, both of you.”
“I knew it was going to come to this,” Opal screeched.
“So did I,” Amber retaliated. “As soon as you stick your nose into something, Ruby, it gets screwed up.”
Ruby pursed her lips, her temper rapidly reaching the boiling point. “I seem to remember sticking my nose into your business because you were going down the drain. Does that count as screwing up? And you, Opal, you'd be living in a damn tent if it weren't for me. You owe me so much money, I've lost count already. So don't either one of you stand there and tell me
I
screw things up. Do what you want. I don't care. Remember this, though. I won't be a party to anything you two come up with.”
Opal sidled up to her sister and pulled at her arm. “Did I just hear you right? You're complaining because you gave me money for a house? You want the money I owe you? Fine. When Pop's estate is settled, I'll pay you. You want my blood, too, say so now and I'll drain it right here in the sink.”
“Why bother, she'd just sell it,” Amber said sourly.
Ruby closed the refrigerator door, a bottle of soda pop in her hand. She shot both her sisters a murderous look.
All hell broke loose at that moment. Opal reached for Ruby's arm and demanded, “Well, what do you have to say?” Ruby dropped the bottle she was holding. She closed her fist, shooting it upward just as Andy and Martha walked through the door. Opal toppled backward, knocking Amber off balance.
“Motherrr,” Martha shouted. “What's going on?” She hurried to Opal to help her to her feet.
“Stay out of this, Martha. Andy, take your sister out of here. Now!” Ruby shouted furiously.
“You're crazy,” Opal raged. “You broke my jaw, my nose, too!”
“You should be so lucky!” Ruby continued to rant. “We're going to settle this right now. First of all,
there is no estate
. This house is
mine
. Neither one of you contributed when they wanted to move here to retire. I took a second mortgage on my house in Georgetown so they could come here. I paid all these years. Me, not you, not Amber. The deed is mine. As for any money, well, let me tell you a thing or two. Amber and I paid our debt, so that makes it part of the estate. You weaseled out. Now you want part of what we busted our asses to pay off? No way, Opal. As for insurance, there's a thousand-dollar life insurance policy from the monument works, and you know what? It's not enough to bury Pop.
We
have to pay it. Money in the bank ... there's six hundred forty-three dollars. Do you want a third of that? Mom inherits, not any of us. So get it through your head, there's nothing to inherit!”
Breathless, Ruby took a step backward. Amber's mouth hung open as she stared first at Opal and then Ruby. For once she was at a loss for words.
Opal staggered to the table, a strange look on her face. Time stopped for Ruby. She'd seen that look before so many times, she had no trouble identifying it now. It was her father all over again. Amber saw it, too. She whimpered as she clutched the side of the table for support. When she found her voice, she muttered, “If I'd known all this, I wouldn't have spent the plane fare to come here. It cost me fourteen hundred dollars. I should get that back. I want it back.”
“Tough,” Ruby snarled.
Ruby whirled when she heard Martha's voice behind her. “I thought you said this house was in my and Andy's names. How can you turn on your sisters like this? Is that what you did to Pop? Is that how you aced him out? God, now I understand.”
“Shut up, Martha,” Andy ordered.
“Don't tell me to shut up,” Martha fumed. “Sure, you'll side with
her
, you were always the favorite, you were the goody-goody. Can't you see what she's done? All these years she told us our grandparents didn't want us. Twenty years, maybe more, and she hasn't seen them. Grandpa dies, and here she is like nothing happened. Twenty years! Try explaining
that
!”
From that point on, it was a cat fight—sister against sister, brother against sister. They yelled and screamed, punched and shoved, rolled and tussled on the floor. Hair flew, clothes ripped, breathing was labored, and harsh curses rang in the kitchen.
Andy struggled to get to his feet. His sister grabbed him by the neck of the shirt and pulled him backward. He swung. She toppled to the floor. He reached for the bowl of ice water his grandmother was soaking vegetables in and tossed the contents over all the combatants. Peas and carrots sailed through the air. The silence that followed was worse than a violent peal of thunder.
“Enough!” he roared.
“Oh, Jesus,” he said as he helped his mother to her feet. Her face was covered in blood from deep scratches on her cheeks. He reached for the dishtowel as he helped his mother outside, where his grandmother was rocking placidly on the aluminum rocking chair. Martha stayed behind with her aunts.
There were no winners, only casualties.
“Did you all decide what you want for lunch?” Irma chirped. Andy's jaw dropped. Ruby's eyes rolled back in her head.
“String beans,” Andy said, remembering where the peas and carrots were. To his mother he whispered, “Marty didn't mean it, Ma, she was scared. Hell, I was scared. Don't worry about Marty. I'll straighten her right out.”
“No. No, leave Martha alone. She's old enough to make her own decisions. If this is the way she feels, she has a right to say so. Promise me, Andy,” Ruby gasped as she held the dishtowel to her bleeding ear. Amber had ripped her earring right through the soft flesh.
“Ma, I think you better tell me what this is all about.”
“Not now, Andy. Please, not now. Go inside, I want to talk to Grandma.”
“Okay, but I'll be watching out the window.” Reluctantly Ruby's son entered the house. He started to clean the kitchen.
“Mom, I'm sorry. You heard all that, huh?”
“For heaven's sake, the whole neighborhood heard it. You girls should learn to be more quiet. You didn't have to go through all that if you didn't want peas and carrots. All you had to say was you preferred string beans.”
Ruby dropped to her knees, much the way she'd done with her Bubba when she was young. “Mom,” she said quietly, “don't you really know what that was all about? I know this is too soon, but you're going to have to decide where you want to go.”
Irma rocked gently. “Right here. I'll stay right here.”
“Good. That's good, Mom. It's definite, then.”
“Yes, right here.”
“Mom ...” Ruby licked her dry lips caked with blood. “Mom ... in there . . . just for a moment . . . in the blink of an eye . . . I thought I saw . . . what I mean is Opal scared the hell . . . how did that happen? She's like Pop. Amber saw it, too,” Ruby said miserably.
“I know,” Irma said gently. “Send her away. Can you do that, Ruby? Do you have enough money to send her away? I have twenty dollars left from the money in George's pocket. You can have that if you need it.”
Ruby dropped her head into her mother's lap and howled. Andy came on the run. Irma motioned him away.
The sun was high in the sky when Irma said, “I think I should make some Jell-O. Strawberry. You always liked strawberry, Ruby. When it's nice and firm it looks like a big red ruby. I have lime, too, if you'd rather have lime.”
“Strawberry is fine, Mom,” Ruby said, getting to her feet. She felt stiff and sore, her knees bruised from the concrete.
“Mom, would you like to go back to Barstow?”
“That sounds nice, Ruby. I don't know if I have enough string beans.”
There was panic in Ruby's voice when she said, “Why don't we just have sandwiches. Egg salad or tuna.”
“That's a wonderful idea. Now, you run along, Ruby, and I'll fix it all. It will only take half an hour.”
Ruby left her mother in the kitchen. Andy trailed behind her to the living room. There was no sign of her sisters or daughter.
“Did you see my purse, Andy?”
“Is that it?” he asked, pointing to the hat rack by the front door. Ruby nodded. “Fetch it here, please,” she said wearily.
Andy stood aside, his eyes worried as his mother rummaged in her purse for her checkbook. He watched as she squared her shoulders before she climbed the stairs. She shook her head when he started to follow her.
Twenty minutes later there was a parade down the stairs and out the front door. Andy watched bug-eyed as his sister followed his aunts. From the window he could see all three of them getting into a cab. What the fuck was going on? What kind of family was this?
“Lunch is ready,” Irma said behind him. Andy jumped a foot when he felt his grandmother take his arm and lead him to the kitchen.
“Egg salad. Celery sticks and tea,” Irma said brightly.
Andy looked at the table. His knees turned weak. “I ... ah ... I have to ... to ... wash up, Grandma . . . you . . . you wait here for me.”
Andy bolted up the stairs. “Ma, where the hell are you?” he croaked hoarsely.
“Here,” Ruby said from the bathroom.
“Ma ... they left in a taxi! Does that mean they won't be here for the funeral?”
“That's what it means,” Ruby said through clenched teeth. “Does your grandmother know?”
“Ah, I'm not sure. You bought them off, didn't you?”
“Yes, I bought them off. All except Marty. That's the only reason they came. I gave them what they wanted. I asked them to stay. They declined.”
Mother and son walked into the kitchen. If Andy's grip wasn't steady, Ruby would have toppled to the floor.
“You're late, children,” Irma said, wagging her finger at them like errant little children.
“I'm sorry,” Ruby mumbled as she took her place at the table. She stared at the blue flowered tea set with the tiny little sandwiches.
“Tea?” Irma smiled.
“Pl-please,” Ruby said, holding up the tiny cup. She stared at the minuscule flakes of rust around the rim. She began nibbling on the postage-stamp-size sandwich.
“Mom, Amber and Opal left,” Ruby said miserably.
“Yes, I know. Do you think it matters, Ruby?”
“I guess not,” Ruby mumbled.
“That's how I feel. Your father will never know,” she singsonged.
“I'd like you to come home with me and Andy tomorrow . . . after the funeral, until you can decide what you want to do.”
“All right,” Irma said agreeably.
“Atta girl, Grandma,” Andy boomed.
Irma beamed. “I'm hardly a girl,” she said coyly.
“I think I'll go for a walk,” Ruby muttered, excusing herself.
“You go along with your mother, Andy. I have to clean up and start the turkey.”
They walked for a long time in silence, up one street and down another until they approached the highway. They crossed A1-A and walked across the sandy beach to the water's edge. Ruby slipped off her shoes, as did Andy.
“I don't know what to do,” Ruby said.
“You always tell me when I don't know what to do to do nothing,” Andy muttered.
“I guess you want to know . . . I hate talking about it.” The words, so long suppressed, tumbled out. Andy listened with no expression on his face. “Well?” she said when she had finished.
“Do you want advice, an opinion, what?” Andy asked, plopping down on the sand.
“No, nothing like that. I don't think I did anything wrong. If I did, it certainly wasn't intentional. Opal is right in one respect. I may be a hypocrite to come here and attend Pop's funeral. I came for Grandma. I didn't know she was ... unwell. I'm glad I came. I'll get through the wake and the funeral because I have to. I hated him all my life. I still hate him. I won't lie about it.
“What we did back there in the kitchen, it wasn't sister against sister. We were all lashing out at Pop. That's who we were fighting, whether we admit it or not. I tried to tell them that, but they wouldn't listen. We never got the chance to lash out, you know, tell him what-for. He died before we got the chance. Each of us, in our own way, thought the time would come when he'd either come to us and ask forgiveness or we'd go to him and really let him have it. Marty looked so ... I wanted her to understand . . . she chose sides. I find that so hard to accept. I feel like my heart is broken. How could she turn on me like that?”
“Marty is a horse's patoot,” Andy said sourly. “She can be a real little snot when she wants to. She'll come around. Don't worry about her, Ma.”
“I'm glad you're here, Andy. Really glad. I don't think I thanked you for helping me with the—”
Andy laughed. “Which just goes to show you you can survive anything. No thanks are needed. I got to read half of Atlas
Shrugged
again.”
“We should be getting back. Let's take a taxi, my legs are killing me.”
“Mine, too. I worked up an appetite, I can tell you that.”
“You came to the right place. If there's one thing my mother knows about, it's food. She's making a turkey with all the trimmings. There's going to be a chocolate cake, too, you wait and see.”

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