Catch A Fallen Star. Amy Vastine
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“Boy, you really better start talking to Jesse. You are in worse shape than I am.”
She had no idea.
“I THOUGHT YOU were hanging out with Stacy,” Ruby said from her spot at the dining room table as Violet charged through the front door and took the stairs two at a time. There was no reply except the slamming of her bedroom door.
“One of these days I am going to take that door off its hinges!” She meant it this time. Ruby didn’t care what Jesse had said about Violet needing privacy. If she couldn’t treat their house with respect, then she would have to suffer the consequences.
Ruby stood and stretched her arms above her head. She’d spent the past hour organizing her schedule for the coming weeks. There were two women in Wilcox County due to give birth in the next month with Ruby’s assistance. She had to make sure she was ready when those calls came in.
The sound of angry girl music filtered downstairs. Jesse’s voice in Ruby’s head told her to go check on Violet, to offer an ear and not a lecture. She took a deep breath and headed upstairs. She knocked on the door but got no answer.
“Vi, can I come in?” She tried turning the knob before getting the okay, but the door was locked. “What did I say about locking the door? Open it. Now.”
An increase in the music’s volume was Violet’s only response. Ruby inhaled deeply, trying to rein in her emotions. Jesse had once reminded her that when she lost her cool, it gave Violet an excuse to lose hers.
“I will leave you alone, but I need you to unlock the door and respect my rules.”
Ruby waited until she heard the soft click of the lock releasing. She resisted the temptation to push the door open, pressing her ear to the door instead. She hoped for an invitation to come in, imagined sitting on Violet’s bed and hearing all about what had happened to make her so upset.
“You can go away now,” Violet said from the other side.
Ruby straightened and bit her lip. It didn’t matter if there was a door or not. Violet wasn’t going to let her in.
“I’m going to start dinner. And you will be eating,” she said before Violet could protest that she wasn’t hungry.
Their dinner options were limited. Ruby had neglected certain chores this week, like grocery shopping. Cooking had never been one of her strengths, and living in Nashville had given her plenty of good reasons to eat out. There were several restaurants in the city Ruby missed like dear friends.
She scavenged some ham that still smelled edible and some cheese from the deli drawer. With any luck there would be four slices left of the bread she bought a week ago. If Violet gave her any grief, Ruby would serve her the heel.
While the frying pan heated up, Ruby found one apple in the refrigerator and half a can of Pringles in the pantry. Ruby’s mother had always been a stickler about serving a proper dinner, which consisted of a meat/protein, a starch, a vegetable and a fruit. Everyone was expected to eat everything, no exceptions. It didn’t matter that Ruby hated brussels sprouts or that her sister gagged whenever a banana was near.
Violet had never known such horror. Too bad she didn’t appreciate how cool her mom was.
Ruby grilled up two sandwiches and cut up the apple. Before she could call Violet down to eat, there was a knock on the front door.
“Hey, Ruby.” Mary Ellen Kingston lived next door and had twin daughters who were almost two. Ruby envied how put-together she always was. Her blond hair never failed to look like she’d just left the salon. She always wore some cute little sundress and strappy leather sandals that required buckling.
When Violet was two, Ruby had been lucky to get out of the house wearing clothes that weren’t covered in something Violet had wiped on or thrown at her. And if her shoes didn’t slip on, she went barefoot.
“How are you tonight, Mary Ellen?”
“Good. We’re on our way home from gymnastics. The girls and I have had a busy day. In fact, we were shopping at Valu-Save earlier and—” her voice dropped lower “—I don’t want to come off like I’m minding your business, but I feel like I need to tell you what I saw there.”
The uneasy feeling in Ruby’s stomach told her Mary Ellen wasn’t here to share information about a sale on orange juice. “What did you see?
“Well, Violet was there with her friend, but I noticed her later in the checkout lane with a man I didn’t recognize. I think he might have bought her something. She walked out of the store with him. I think he was trying to get her to go in his truck, but she kept on walking. Not that I would have let her go with him, of course,” she added.
Mary Ellen glanced back at her minivan parked in Ruby’s driveway. Her angelic twins were probably strapped inside, waiting patiently for their mother to return. They would never talk to strangers when they were older, or break any rules. Or shut their mom out of their lives.
“I swear I would have stopped her if she had made a different decision. I just thought you should know. We gotta look out for one another, being neighbors and all, right?”
“Right.” Ruby didn’t know what else to say as her heart beat out of control. She thanked Mary Ellen for her concern and shut the door.
For about a year after deciding to leave Levi, every communication Ruby had with her mother contained some reminder of the damage divorce did to children. Children raised by their mothers were ten times more likely to be physically hurt or murdered. Seventy percent of long-term prison inmates were from broken homes. Children from two-parent homes were happier, healthier and better-adjusted.
Ruby hadn’t needed scientific studies to tell her what divorce did to children. Her father had walked out of her life when she was seven years old. He hadn’t even tried to pretend he cared like Levi did with Violet. Ruby knew better than anyone the cost of a failed marriage and how the children paid the price.
Given Violet’s tendency to make trouble, Ruby always figured she needed to be more worried about her daughter ending up in jail than becoming someone’s victim. But the thought of Violet almost getting into some strange man’s truck caused tears to prick at the corners of her eyes.
This time she raced upstairs and didn’t bother knocking. Violet was on her bed and sat up when Ruby burst in.
“Mom! Seriously, leave.”
“Who was the man you were talking to at Valu-Save?”
“What?”
“Don’t play games with me, Violet.” Ruby clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking. “Mrs. Kingston saw you and someone who isn’t from around here standing in line together. She said he bought you something and tried to get you to come into his truck. What happened?”
Violet rolled her eyes, and she flopped back on her bed, phone in hand. “Oh my gosh,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “People need to mind their own business.”
Ruby