The House of Eve (97)
It was Shimmy.
My breathing shallowed at the sight of him standing in the hallway, his hair swept off his face.
“Ruby.” He made my name sound like a prayer that had been answered. “Are you all right?”
Before I could get my bearings, he grabbed my face and kissed me hard and with deep affection. I was so famished for his attention that even though I knew it was best to shoo him away, I sank deeper into his strong arms. He smelled of the candy store and felt like heaven.
“God, I missed you,” he said, pressing his lips on my cheeks, my eyelids, and then resting them again against my mouth. His tongue tasted like peppermint, and I allowed him to devour me and my sadness.
As I felt my longing threaten to take me to a place of no return, I shook myself free. That was foolish. I looked around the hall. Someone could have been watching me, and my deal with Mrs. Shapiro would have been over. I stepped back away from him, and an awkward silence passed between us. It was drafty, and I would be in a world of trouble if Aunt Marie caught me letting her heat out. But I didn’t close the door on him.
“Are you doing all right?”
“I’m fine.” I wrapped my arms around my waist to keep from reaching out for him again.
“I came to see if you wanted to go for a ride, so that we could catch up properly.”
“I can’t, Shimmy.” I looked down at my bare feet.
It was part of the deal. I had to leave him alone completely or the scholarship was off. I had come this far, made the ultimate sacrifice, and I couldn’t let up now. I had to see this through to the end.
“I think you better leave.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Your mother said—”
“Forget about her for one moment. Please. I need to know.”
All of a sudden, the wailing from the girls who had surrendered their babies echoed in my ears. I could see Grace being ripped from my arms.
“Go home, Shimmy.”
“What did you have?” he pleaded. “At least tell me that much.”
“A girl,” I whispered.
“Can I at least come in? We should talk about this.”
“Shimmy, I’m sorry. It’s over.” The last thing I saw before I shut the door was the hurt in his brilliant green eyes.
I stood with my back to the door, shaking uncontrollably. But I knew I had done the right thing. I had to move on. Even if it meant I would do so with only half my heart intact. I had lost the two people I loved most, Grace and Shimmy. I didn’t need to be happy, but I could not be poor. All I could do was believe that the future I was moving toward would be worth it.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR OPEN ROAD
Eleanor
The moment Eleanor got behind the wheel of the Chevrolet Bel Air and pulled the car into two-way traffic, she knew where she needed to go. She navigated the car onto Interstate 70 and drove through the state of Maryland until she crossed into Pennsylvania. She was tired—so tired—but pangs of anger kept her alert. One second she was full of rage, the next she was weeping so hard she could barely see the black asphalt in front of her.
Somehow, Eleanor gobbled up one mile after another, with only one stop for coffee and to use the bathroom, halfway through Pennsylvania. It was close to two in the morning when she turned off the highway and drove into Elyria, following alongside the Black River until she navigated the car down her childhood street. Her family’s shotgun house sat over a patch of well-tended grass. It still had the white awning with the red front door, and Eleanor breathed relief at the sight of it. It had been such a long time since she had returned home. The last time she saw her parents was during their first Thanksgiving trip as a married couple.
She flicked off the engine and contemplated sitting in the driver’s seat until the sun rose so as not to frighten her mother, who was undoubtedly home alone. Eleanor’s father worked nights, and she didn’t want her mother to think she was a burglar.
A man stumbled across the street in front of her and she slunk down low in the driver’s seat. Once he was out of sight, she decided to press her luck and knock. She banged her fist three times on the red door. In a matter of seconds, the front light flicked on and she could see her mother’s eye at the peephole.
“It’s me, Mama.”
“Eleanor? Lord have mercy. What you doing out this time of night?”
The front door scraped the floor, making that swoopy sound that had always welcomed her home. Her mother stood in her faded housecoat with her hair up in pink curlers. She pulled Eleanor into her fleshy arms, and the familiar scent of Ivory soap and Dixie peach made the long trip worth it. Everything inside of Eleanor burst free.
“Oh Lord, get on in here, girl, before you catch cold all up your tail. You just had a baby. Where is my grand? And William?” Her mother glanced past Eleanor into the deserted street, and when she didn’t see anyone, she tsked her teeth and pulled her into the warm living room that smelled of butter.
“Mama, there is something I need to tell you.”
Lorraine looked her up and down. “Jesus Christ, what you done did now?” she said, and then turned toward the back of the house.
They bypassed the sofa in the living room, because that was for company. Even with the lights off in the dining room, Eleanor knew where to step without bumping into furniture. Back in the kitchen, her mother lit the two-burner stove and put on the kettle. Eleanor took a seat at the octagon table piled with catalogues, church programs, old magazines and advertisements. The kitchen walls were still painted a bright yellow, and the old flowery curtains still hung from the window overlooking the swatch of a backyard. Lorraine placed a mug of peppermint tea in front of her, and then lifted the glass top off the cake dish. Without asking if Eleanor was hungry, she removed the damp paper towel that she kept with the pound cake to keep it moist and cut her a healthy slice.