33
Ruby
‘I don’t get it,’ said Jack.
‘Get what?’
‘Why you’re an alcoholic?’
‘There doesn’t have to be a reason.’
‘There’s nearly always a reason but you had every opportunity, every privilege.’
‘My parents divorced,’ I said.
‘Yes, you told me that – fairly amicably, you said.’
‘Did I say that? Maybe it wasn’t that amicable.’
He sat up straighter, lifting Lucy over his shoulder so that she was facing away from us, as if to give us privacy.
‘Did you witness some domestic violence? Or were you on the receiving end?’
I halted, not sure what I should say. ‘No, nothing to do with that. The divorce wasn’t bad. But I moved here to Dublin with Mom while my sister stayed in Boston, long before they divorced.’
He turned his head to one side, cradling Lucy’s head in his hand. ‘But why?’
‘Genetics, I guess. My mom’s brother is a recovering alcoholic too.’
‘Yeah, but everyone has a story. Did your parents love your sister more than you?’
This was way too close to the bone.
‘There was an incident,’ I said and paused. I did not want to tell Jack this lie. He was becoming important to me. He waited, saying nothing. ‘I was sexually assaulted by my sister’s boyfriend, is that enough for you?’ I stood up and took Lucy back from him, strapping her into the stroller beside our bed. She started to wail.
‘I … I’m sorry. I had no right to pry. Ruby, I’m sorry.’
‘You wouldn’t let it go, like a dog with a bone. There was no need to be so intrusive.’
‘I’m sorry.’
I had my jacket on and my baby kitbag over my shoulder. I left Jack to pay the bill and walked out. Tears filled my eyes. Why did I lie to Jack? I walked away and took the long route home, hoping that he wouldn’t follow me. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I knew it was him. I wasn’t going to answer it. When I eventually got home, there were two missed calls from Jack and five from Mom.
I called Mom to learn that Grandma had died a matter of hours earlier. Fresh tears blurred my vision. I asked my neighbour Helen to look after Lucy while I drove to the hospital to be with Mom. Poor Grandma had had a sudden stroke after lunch in the care home. It was severe, Mom said, she couldn’t have survived. Now she was being taken to the hospital morgue. Mom was inconsolable but I was strangely okay. It didn’t occur to me to have a drink. I was too busy. I had to step up and call Uncle Dennis in Australia. I called Erin in New York and Dad in Boston. He was, I think, genuinely sad to hear the news.
‘I’ll come,’ he said, ‘your mother will need support at a time like this, and you too.’ He coughed. ‘Besides, I’d like to meet my granddaughter.’
I was pleased. He had been begging me to come toBoston – ‘Kathy wants to meet you, and I’d love to see your baby’ – but I made excuses every time, and it was never convenient for him to come to Dublin either. I had a mental block about Boston. I didn’t want to bump into anyone from my past.
For a few days, despite the sadness of the circumstances, it felt like my whole family was pulling together for the first time since before the incident. Mom was desperately upset. I was too but I was being the adult, talking to the undertaker and to Grandma’s parish priest, selecting music, choosing clothes for Grandma to wear in the coffin. I deferred my grief until later. There was a lot to be done, and Mom was too upset to do much. It would be a full nine days before we could hold the funeral. My uncle was managing the mining company he worked for in the middle of nowhere, a five-hour drive from Perth, and had trouble getting someone in to replace him while he came home for his mother’s funeral. I organized for Dad and my uncle, when they arrived, to stay in a hotel nearby and Erin stayed with Mom first and then a few nights with me.
Lucy did not cover herself in glory the first time she met Dad over at Mom’s place. She had an ear infection and was red-faced, screaming, writhing and generally inconsolable, but Dad made all the right noises about how cute she was. We went for a walk with Lucy in the stroller and she eventually cried herself to sleep.
‘I wonder if I made a terrible mistake, putting you through a court case at such a young age, and then letting you and your mother go like that …’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I should have tried harder to keep the family together. And the court case, having to relive the … the happenings of that day. But that boy had to be punished. You understand that, right?’
