There was an enthusiastic squeal from the children, and her mom got up from the table and walked into the small living room. Lydia could hear her fussing around with the game closet, and acting on muscle memory, she and her sisters got up and began to clear the table. Mama cooked, and it was their job to clean up.
It wasn’t an instinct that ever went away.
Marianne took an apron down from the peg and wrapped it around her waist, and she somehow managed to look like the pages of an ad, with her floral dress and that piece of linen tied just so, her hair swept partway up, and a twinkling light in her eyes. Dahlia didn’t bother with an apron, likely because the only colors available were pastel or floral.
Ruby chose the white, pinafore-style apron that went over her head and tied around her waist, ruffles around the bottom and the top. It almost looked like it belonged with the pale blue dress she was wearing.
And it reminded her again of childhood.
Lydia went and grabbed an apron without looking at it, then paused for a second, looking down at her own worn jeans, and her hands, one of which had a blister right on the palm, cracked and bleeding. She pushed all that to the side and gathered the plates from the table, putting the stack of them by the sink.
I don’t need a dishwasher. And anyway, they don’t sing while they work.
Her father’s cheerful words came back and echoed in her head just then. And as if she’d read her thoughts, Ruby started to sing.
None of them were overly gifted musically, except for Ruby. Her voice likely inherited from an ancestor the rest of them didn’t share.
They weren’t tone-deaf, by any stretch, but Ruby had a sweet, clear voice that reminded Lydia of a songbird. Marianne joined in singing, filling the sink with water and twirling the dishrag. Lydia exchanged a glance with Dahlia.
“Do you think they’ll notice if we duck out on the chores?” Dahlia asked.
“Yes,” Lydia said. “And they’ll tattle.”
Dahlia smiled.
Lydia grabbed a dishrag and started to wipe down the counter, while Marianne and Ruby filled up all the space at the sink. Many hands make light work.
One of her mother’s favorite things to say, and she thought of it now as they quickly tidied up the kitchen.
When they finished, Marianne put the kettle on. And once it had boiled, she poured four mugs of hot water. Ruby began hunting around for the tea bags. “Let me just check in on Jackson,” Marianne said. She returned a minute later, flashing a thumbs-up. “Jackson and Dad are talking about hunting spots, so I can guarantee you that that can go on for as long as I want it to.”
They took their cups of tea and filed out the front door, sitting on the wooden chairs that were positioned there on the porch. It was dark out, only the porch light casting a golden glow directly around them, shrouding the view of the farm in darkness.
“How was England?” Lydia asked Ruby.
“Great,” she said. “Really great. But I’m happy to be home.”
“If I ran away to England, I might not come back,” Lydia said. And then tried to force a smile so she didn’t sound quite so grim.
She hadn’t meant it to sound that way.
“Well, this is home,” Ruby said, her smile overly cheery. “I couldn’t imagine not coming back.”
Ruby lowered her face over her mug of tea, the steam rising up around her. Lydia didn’t often catalog the differences between the rest of them and Ruby.
Ruby was Ruby, so she didn’t stop to think particularly about her differences.
But she’d been gone awhile, and there were just some things she noticed. The way her sister’s nose sloped, where the rest of them had a slight bump on the bridge.
Her pale blond hair where the rest of them were darker. Her top lip was thinner than the bottom, a sharp vee cut down into the top. Where Lydia and her sisters had a rounder, fuller top lip. Ruby was part of them. As much part of them as any other member of the family.
But there were distinct little mysteries about her.
“I wanted to be near you,” Ruby said, her eyes so full of sympathy that they made Lydia freeze. Made her feel pinned to the spot by all of Ruby’s earnestness.
It felt like Ruby had just dropped a heap of obligation onto her chest.
“Ruby, please tell me you didn’t make a decision about your whole future because you thought I needed you here.”