Page 54 of Stuck With the Best Man

“Thanks. I don’t remember her at all, though. It’s hard to grieve someone you never met. Like, I know I should be sad about it, but it’s hard when the only reason I know what she looked like is because I’ve seen photos of her with my older siblings.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s fine. Really.” It’s true. Maybe it should be difficult for me to talk about my mother, but it never has been. “Anyway, I think that’s another reason why I feel a little disconnected from my siblings. They all remember her and I don’t.”

“I guess all your party-boy stuff makes sense now.”

“Ruby Sullivan, are you therapizing me?”

She giggles. “I’m just trying to understand you.”

Like an idiot, my breath catches. “Why?”

“Because I’ve spent the past eleven months of my lifemisunderstanding you, and I’d really like to correct that mistake.”

“Right. So, it’s just your perfectionism at work.”

There’s a rustle of movement and then something soft smacks against my face. A pillow. She threw a pillow at me.

I grin into the dark and chuck it right back at her. My eyes have adjusted to the dark at this point, but she’s still nothing more than a vague shape a few feet away from me.

“Hey!” she shouts playfully. “Are you trying to injure one of the NYC Ballet’s premier dancers?”

“Never,” I promise. “Are you tired yet?”

“Kind of, but not fully.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your family? It’s only fair.”

Ruby huffs. “There’s nothing to tell. You know my grandmother is a nosy old lady with magical powers, but everyone else is normal. My parents retired to Montana a few years ago. Honestly, I had a really easy childhood. No complaints.”

“You and Amy always got along, then?”

“Pretty much. I mean, we fought occasionally like any sisters do, but we’ve always been close. She was always way more social than me. I’m pretty sure I was born anxious. The universe gave me anxiety as a free side dish to go with my overall existence. So, the rules and rigors of ballet were comforting to me. It was something I could control. Something I could be perfect at. Something that made my head go quiet for once.”

“That’s interesting. It makes sense.”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah,” I echo.

A couple minutes of quiet pass, during which, I wonder if Ruby has finally fallen asleep. I’m starting to feel the exhaustion of the day washing over me at last too.

I close my eyes, then hear a soft, “Hey, Ben?”

“Hmm?”

“Sorry for being a brat. You know, at the rehearsal dinner. And the wedding. And in the car. And, like, an hour ago.”

“You can be a brat to me anytime you want.”

A quiet laugh. “Goodnight, Ben.”

“Goodnight, Ruby.”

Chapter Seventeen: Ruby

Warmsunlightturnstheinside of my eyelids buttery yellow. I feel scratchy fabric against my face and breathe in the scent of generic laundry detergent.

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