Page 2 of The Fadeaway

“Okay,” Patty admits, “she didn’t. But she did offer me two drinks every night rather than just the one, something she had always believed to be uncouth for a woman.”

Ruby shakes her head, still laughing. “Wow. So you’re saying I’m a busybody?”

“No,” Patty says. She reaches across the table and puts her hand on Ruby’s arm, resting it there as she looks into her daughter’s eyes. “I’m saying you’re a planner, a doer, a dreamer. You make things happen, Bibi,” she says, using a nickname that Ruby hasn’t heard in years. As a toddler, unable to say her own name, Ruby had called herself “Bibi,” much to her parents’ delight. It’s been ages since Patty has called her that.

“Thanks, Mom.” Ruby’s eyes shine. She pushes the salad around on her plate. “I just want to make sure we do fun things while you’re here. I was also thinking we could take a trip to the mainland, if you want. We can do Destin, or if you’d rather travel a bit, there’s always Miami, or even Disney World.”

It’s Patty’s turn to laugh out loud. “Disney World? Oh honey, not on your life. I’m all Disney-ed out after living near Anaheim for so many years, and going there with you and the girls. Seriously. Just park me somewhere with a book and a margarita. That's all I need in the way of entertainment.”

Ruby frowns, but just slightly. Something in her eyes gives away the concern that’s flickering behind her brow. “Are you feeling too tired to travel, Mom? We don’t have to. I can cancel Christmas Key—seriously. I’m not trying to run you ragged every time you come to visit me.”

This is it—this is Patty’s opening. This is her chance to open a metaphorical window, to take a deep breath, to let the first whisper of autumn into their lives. She holds Ruby’s gaze acrossthe table, searching her daughter's eyes so deeply that she feels as though it’s only been a minute since Ruby emerged from her own body, slick and wailing, encountering the cruelty of the world around her. But no—it’s been fifty years, Patty reminds herself. Ruby is well-acquainted with life and its ups and downs. She’s been breathing her own oxygen for decades; soothing herself when the going gets tough.

“Bibi,” Patty says, using the nickname again. Her eyes well with tears. “I?—“

But instead of speaking, Patty reaches up, slowly, and tugs at one end of her hair. As she does, her whole scalp shifts like quicksand and she pulls the hair firmly from her head. Ruby’s eyes widen as shock paints her entire face: Patty is bald. The hair that was on her head now sits in her lap. Her eyes, apologetic and worried, are still on her daughter’s face.

“Mom…” Ruby’s voice catches in her throat and a shaky hand goes to her mouth.

There are no words. The look between them is one that’s full of meaning and dialogue.

How long has this been going on?

Three years—since you were in the White House.

What do we know?

Well…honey, we know how it’s going to end.

Are you sure?

I’m sure. The doctors are sure. We’ve done it all--everything we could think of to stop it.

Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you let me help? Why did you keep this from me?

A mother’s job is to give her child wings to fly, not to clip those wings by burdening her unnecessarily.

Mom, this is not something frivolous; you needed me.

I need you now.

I’m here.

I’m here.

I’m here…

Dinner is forgotten. Ruby reaches across the table with both of her hands and clasps her mother’s fingers. She squeezes. She stares into Patty’s eyes as the tears flow freely down her own cheeks. “Mom,” she whispers hoarsely. “Mom.”

“Bibi, my darling girl,” Patty manages, holding back the flood of her own tears. She’s never been good at farewells. “I think we should call Harlow and Athena.”

Ruby nods, her mouth set in a grim line. “I’ll get them down here as soon as possible,” Ruby says. “You’ll stay here with us.”

“The backbone of this family has always been the women,” Patty says, holding her head and shoulders up proudly. “We’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

Ruby nods. “We’ll be together.”

Neither of them repeats the phrase about being okay, because they both know that there is no such thing as okay anymore. Instead, Patty tilts her smooth, shiny bald head to one side, admiring her daughter’s strength.

---