Ruby pulled a face, for her mother knew her well.
“Are you coming, Amanda?” Scarlet asked.
“I rode with Ruby, remember?” Amanda said. “I either have to catch a ride home with you two or take a bus. But nobody’s going anywhere until she answers my question.” She spun around again and faced Ruby. “Details would be good.”
“Details about what?” Ruby’s innocent expression didn’t fool anybody.
“What was the guy driving that sweet Mustang like?” Amanda asked, sounding like the kindergarten teacher she was.
Even Ruby’s father waited for Ruby’s reply.
“What was he like?” Ruby echoed, seriously considering the question. “Let’s see. He didn’t slam his car door or kick the no-passing sign even though it took out one of his mirrors.”
She saw the looks passing between her mother and her best friend. There was nothing she could do about what they were thinking.
“Patient isn’t on my list,” Amanda said, “but it should be. What else?”
With a sigh of surrender, Ruby said, “He was blond and well dressed and understandably irritated but polite.”
“And?” Amanda stood up straight, as if doing so would make her less dwarfed by the three tall redheads.
“And that’s all,” Ruby stated.
“That’s all?” Amanda echoed.
“Isn’t that what she said?” her father asked gruffly.
“But, honey,” Ruby’s mother implored.
“Was he tall?” Amanda and Scarlet asked in unison.
Ruby opened her mouth, closed it, skewed her mouth to one side and finally shrugged. “I didn’t notice.”
“You didn’t notice?” her mother asked gently.
“But height is always what you notice first,” Amanda insisted.
“I told you. I’m not interested in finding a man. Maybe I’ll get a dog. Perhaps a rescue with a heartbreaking past and soulful eyes.”
“You’re bound to run into him again, you know,” Scarlet said, and very nearly smiled.
“Since you didn’t hear me, I’ll say it again. I’m finished with men. All men. For good.”
There were hugs all around and a few tears, but those were mostly from her father. Ruby promised her mother she would call. She promised her father she would keep her doors locked. When Amanda reminded her that the reunion was in two weeks’ time, Ruby reluctantly reconfirmed her promise that she would be there, too.
Finally, she stood in the hot sun in the back alley, waving as her parents and best friend drove away. Alone at last, she returned to the tavern and looked around the dimly lighted room. She had a lot to do, from remodeling to advertising to hiring waitstaff. Already she could see the new Bell’s in her imagination. There would be soft lighting and lively music and laminated menus featuring one-of-a-kind drinks and people talking and laughing and maybe even falling in love. Not her, of course. But friends would gather here, and some of them would become her friends, and all of them would be part of her new life.
Happiness bubbled out of her. No matter what her father claimed, buying a boarded-up tavern in Orchard Hill wasn’t a mistake.
She happened to catch her reflection in the beveled mirror behind the bar. Chestnut-red wouldn’t have been her first choice in hair color and she’d never particularly liked her natural curls. Her face was too narrow and her lips too full, in her opinion, but her eyes were wide and green, and for the first time in a long time, there was a spark of excitement in them.
She hadn’t made a mistake, not this time. Buying this tavern on a whim was the first thing she’d done in too long that was brave and a little wild, like the girl she used to be. She hugged herself, thinking how much she’d missed that.
Once again, the near accident she’d witnessed replayed through her mind.
Had the driver of the Mustang been tall?
Normally she had only to blink to bring the particulars into focus. In this instance her snapshot memory didn’t include that detail.
Thinking about her history and her recent decision regarding singlehood, she decided to take that as a good sign, and left it at that.
Two hours after her parents and Amanda left, Ruby stood tapping her foot on the sidewalk at the corner of Jefferson and Division Streets. She wasn’t thinking about the quote she’d requested from the electrician or the baffling little mystery regarding the sleeping bag folded neatly on one of the pool tables in her tavern. She wasn’t even thinking about the broodingly attractive man she’d encountered on Orchard Highway earlier. Well, she wasn’t thinking about him very much.
She was thinking that if the walk sign didn’t light soon, she was going to take her chances with the oncoming traffic, because she was starving.
At long last, the light changed and the window-shoppers ahead of her started across, Ruby close behind them. There was a spring in her step as she completed the last little jaunt to the restaurant at the top of the hill.
Inside, it was standing room only. People huddled together in small groups while they waited for a table.
Ruby made her way toward a handwritten chalk menu on the adjacent wall and began pondering her options. The door opened and closed several times as more people crowded into the foyer. Ruby was contemplating the lunch specials when someone jostled her from behind.
“Sorry about that,” a tall man with a very small baby said, visibly trying to give her a little room.
Ruby rarely got caught staring, but there was something oddly familiar about the man. He had dark hair and an angular jaw and brown eyes. Upon closer inspection, she was certain she’d never seen him before.
He eased sideways to make room for someone trying to leave, and Ruby found herself smiling at the baby.
With a wave of his little arms, the little boy smiled back at her. “He likes you,” the father said.
“It’s this hair.” She twirled a long lock and watched the baby’s smile grow.
“You aren’t by any chance looking for a job, are you?” the man asked.
Voices rose and silverware clattered and someone’s cell phone rang. Through the din she wondered if she’d heard correctly.
“Provided you have never been arrested, don’t lie, steal, cheat on your taxes or have a library book overdue, that is,” he added.
She took a step back. “Um, that is, I mean—”
“Forgive me.” Unlike the baby, this man didn’t appear to be someone who smiled easily. In his mid-thirties, he looked tired and earnest and completely sincere. “It’s just that Joey didn’t take one look at you and start screaming.”
She took a deep breath of warm, fragrant air and noticed that someone else was entering through the heavy front door. The crowd parted, making room for the newcomer. Suddenly she was standing face-to-face with the man she’d encountered along Old Orchard Highway earlier.
He looked surprised, too, but he recovered quickly and said, “Hello, again.” He gave her one of those swift, thorough glances men have perfected over the ages. His eyes looked gray in this light, his face lean and chiseled. “I see you’ve met my brother Marsh.”
Did