I'd just started up the stairs, my basket overflowing with freshly fluffed clothes, when I heard the doorbell. My firstabsurd thought was that it was Jude and Percy, that they'd worked out a new custody agreement and everything would be all right.
My second—and really outrageous—thought was that my parents were here. That they recognized their mistakes and the long stretch of destruction they'd left in my life, and wanted to apologize. Make it right.
Bagel met me at the top of the stairs, tippy-tapping and irritable as hell about intruders, when the third—and much more realistic—thought struck: my parents were here but they were here to punish me for stepping out of line the way they'd always promised they would.
My last and least dramatic thought was that Jamie was early to pick up Bagel for pet-sitting while I was away.
At no point did I consider the possibility that I'd find Ruth on the other side of that door.
"Hi." She forced a smile. "This is weird. I know. I'm weird—I mean, I'm sorry. But also weird, maybe. I don't know. I should've texted to ask if I could come over." She motioned to the basket on my hip and the dog peeking out from behind my knees. "And you're busy."
"No, don't worry. Get in here," I said, waving her inside. "But I have to warn you that I'm leaving for the airport in less than an hour and I'm in the middle of a slight mental breakdown."
She huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, same, but without the airport."
I stared at her for a long moment, taking in her red, swollen eyes, flushed cheeks, and messy bun. Not to mention it was the middle of a weekday and she was dressed in a black t-shirt dress and sandals.
"Come on in," I said, just as the oven timer went off. I handed her the basket. "Let me just deal with these cookies and then we'll talk."
"Ooookay." As I headed for the kitchen, she asked, "What's this fella's name again?"
"Bagel," I called. "Don't take it personally if he glares at you. He's a little contemptuous. It's just his vibe."
"That's okay, Bagel. It's my vibe too." Ruth followed me into the kitchen with Bagel on her heels. She was quiet while I transferred the cookies to a cooling rack. "Are you picking someone up from the airport or going somewhere?"
"I'm heading to Michigan," I said. "The hearing is tomorrow."
She dug into the laundry, started folding a t-shirt. "Oh, right."
"That's not why I handed you the basket," I said, swatting at her with the spatula. "Just sit down. I'll get you something cold to drink and some of these cookies when they aren't molten."
"Oh god, no. Don't worry. You have enough going on. You don't need to throw me a tea party." She pushed a few loose strands of hair over her ear and grabbed a pink sleep shirt from the pile. "You're thoughtful and you give really good advice, and?—"
"Igive good advice? Are you sure you have the right person?"
She laughed, saying, "Yes, you."
"You've been listening to me analyze the shambles of my life all summer." Still holding the spatula, I motioned to myself. "I doubt my advice is worth much."
"Stop that right now." She shook out a pair of jeans and ran a hand down each leg to smooth out the wrinkles. A girl after my own perfectionist heart. "I won't put up with that slander."
"We should call Jamie."
"We should figure out if you're packed for this trip." She pointed to the clothes she'd sorted into categories. "Do these things need to come with you?"
I leaned heavily against the counter. "Would it surprise you to hear that I have no idea what I'm doing?"
Ruth responded to that with a sharp, decisive nod. "I'm physically incapable of letting you get on that plane without a properly packed bag. You'll cause me pain if you don't let me fix this for you."
Since I couldn't have that, Bagel and I led Ruth to the complete chaos in my bedroom. She took one long look and then went to work sorting everything I'd already thrown in the bag and pulling items from the basket and my closet. For my part, I sat on the corner of the bed, Bagel's head on my thigh and a paw pressed to my foot like he knew I needed to be grounded.
"You're not wearing this to court. Sorry but no," she said, glowering at a summery dress I'd chosen for that purpose. "Do you have any daily medications that you'll need? I'll pull together toiletries and makeup while you do that."
That small project was just enough to focus all this wild, spacey energy. When I returned, I found my room straightened out and my carry-on structured into precise sections. I wouldn't need to raid the local superstore after all.
"Thank you," I managed. "I didn't realize I needed some help until you showed up."
"It just so happens that I need some help too." She zipped the top on a reusable bag filled with skincare products. "Consider it an even trade."
