“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.”
What did she expect her to say? Or do? Lydia had been managing on her own for six months. She didn’t have the energy for help. She didn’t want to make a... A chore list for Ruby so that Ruby could feel helpful.
It had been a relief when people had stopped doing that. She’d been inundated in the first weeks after Mac died. Phone calls and messages and offers of food. It had been nice, but it had been...
A lot.
“I got a job also,” Ruby said, looking down into her tea. “But shouldn’t I want to be here for you? You were all...you were all there for me. You found me.”
And onto the obligation was heaped guilt.
Lydia sighed. “Ruby, I am glad to have you back.”
How the hell had she ended up managing Ruby’s feelings?
“If you need help with the kids or with...with farm chores.”
Lydia laughed. “I do not want your help with farm chores. That’s like asking a cow for help with knitting.”
Ruby wrinkled her nose. “Are cows helpful with knitting?”
“No, Ruby, they don’t have thumbs. And you don’t know how to do manual labor.”