Page 34 of The Fadeaway

Banks sets the photo back on the table with a frown as the banjo player accepts a round of applause and vacates the stool. A young woman with two long braids and a guitar takes his spot.

“We don’t know that it was guilt money,” Banks says. “Could have been anything.”

Ruby makes a disbelieving sound as she picks up the photo again. “I think I’m right on this,” she says, lifting an eyebrow as she takes in the look on her mother’s face in the photo. To her eye, it looks like a loving gaze. The girl with the guitar strums the opening notes to “Yesterday” by The Beatles. “I think he got too old for her, and she felt bad about that, so she sent money every month.”

“Not to be rude, but have you been right about anything so far when it comes to your mother?”

Ruby laughs loudly here. “Not since she died, no. I had no clue about Ellen in Seattle, about anything that happened on Jekyll Island in the 70s, and I thought maybe Carmela was some sort of grifter who’d convinced my mother to write her into her will,” she admits sheepishly. “I was totally in the dark.”

“Then maybe approach this the same way,” Banks says as he takes a big bite of his burrito. After he chews and swallows, he goes on. “Meet this guy with the understanding that there could be an entirely different story here.”

“Once again, Banks,” Ruby says, reaching over and wrapping her fingers around his wrist for emphasis. “You are so right. What would I ever do without you?”

Banks’s cheeks flush ever so slightly at the compliment. “Dunno, boss.”

Ruby leans her elbows on the table and listens as the young guitarist goes through her short set: first The Beatles, next Carly Simon, and finally, Carole King.

In spite of the smile she plasters on her face for those around her at the other picnic tables, Ruby can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over her as she thinks about her own future. Is she destined to one day be the former lover of a much younger man? Would Dexter feel relief at having her tucked away in a home somewhere—maybe so relieved that he’d send a check each month just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with her himself?

Ruby listens and claps for each song, but she’s already thinking ahead to what she might find out about Lyle Westover. Could he have been anything other than an older lover for her mother? Perhaps. Yes. Of course.

Butwashe something else? She didn’t think so.

Ruby

The memory care unit at Fair Skies Village is locked and guarded. Ruby stands at the counter with her ID in hand, ready to sign in and be searched.

“Ma’am,” the middle-aged woman behind the desk says to her, waving her over. The desk attendant leans on the counter conspiratorially, her ample breasts held tightly beneath a white nurse-like uniform. “You can come with me,” she whispers in the overly solicitous manner that Ruby was accustomed to hearing as First Lady.

The doors emit a loud buzz and click as they swing open, and Ruby and Banks meet the woman, who has come out of the office area that is the front desk.

“Are you here for a meeting? A tour?” The woman’s eyebrows lift as she lets her gaze trail over Banks’s tall, imposing, muscular figure. There is no question that he is Secret Service; there almost never is.

Ruby takes out her phone and glances at her calendar. “I’m supposed to meet Zoey and Theodore Westover here at ten o’clock,” she says. “We’re here to see Lyle Westover.”

“Ah, Mr. Westover,” the woman says, folding her hands over her rounded stomach. “Let me take you to a meeting room, and I’ll bring his kids back as soon as they arrive.”

Ruby and Banks are deposited in an oatmeal-colored room with plush chairs, and the woman—whose name tag says Tonya—brings them each a coffee with cream and sugar. “I’m sure they’ll be here in a jiff,” she says, smiling as she backs out of the room. “Just let me know if you need anything at all while you wait.”

Ruby thanks her and blows on the hot coffee. “So,” she says to Banks. “This place is nice.”

“Nicer than some facilities,” he agrees mildly. “Looks clean. Secure.”

It’s small talk, but Ruby is grateful for it as she sits there waiting for Zoey and Theodore to arrive.

“Sorry we’re late,” Zoey says, appearing in the doorway. She looks harried, and Theodore materializes behind his sister. “Hi,” he says, lifting a hand awkwardly.

Banks stands and steps out of the way, leaving Ruby to shake hands and make introductions with the newcomers.

“We had to make a trip across town to the facility where our mother lives,” Zoey explains, pushing a few stray hairs behind her ears. “She had a fall yesterday, and they were worried she might have hit her head.”

“Oh, no,” Ruby says. She puts a hand over her heart. “I hope she’s okay.” As she says this, she mentally does the math: the mother of Lyle Westover’s children, who are in their forties, is also in a facility. Could they or would they have been married when her mother and Lyle went to that vineyard together in 1988?

“She’s alright, thank you,” Theodore says. He has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his khaki pants, and he’s looking atthe tile floor beneath their feet. “CT scan checked out, and she doesn’t appear to have a brain bleed.”

“It’s kind of like putting out one fire only to have another one crop up when you have two elderly parents in need of care,” Zoey says. “I’m sorry—you probably already know this from personal experience,” she adds. Ruby notices lines around Zoey’s eyes that make her look tired and stressed.

“Actually, my dad died when I was eleven,” Ruby says. “And my mother, as you know, just passed. And she never needed any type of care until the very end of her illness.”

---