Flamethrower - Maggie Estep [71]
“And me what?”
“Are you happy? Delirious? We never talk about it. About your state of mind.”
This was true. Ruby never mentioned the aftermath of having been stalked or of feeling responsible for not dragging Jody out of the bungalow.
“Oh,” Ruby said, “I’m fine. Frank’s not getting out for the next few decades.”
“I meant Jody. You don’t still feel responsible, do you?”
“No, I’m all right with it. I’m fine,” Ruby said, even though this wasn’t entirely true.
“What does ‘fine’ mean in this instance?”
“It means fine. I’m glad you and I are good, and I’m glad to have my job back. But I do feel fucked up about Jody’s death. Like that.”
“That’s what I mean. You feel fucked up. Are you going to be all right?”
“Do you mean should I go see a psychiatrist to deal with my own psychiatrist having let herself burn to death? No. Probably not.” Ruby felt her shoulders tense.
Ed smiled slightly. “Okay, okay. Don’t get worked up.”
“I’m not,” Ruby shrugged. They’d reached Ed’s shed row, and Ruby couldn’t wait to liberate Spike from the office.
“You’re going to The Hole now?”
“In a minute, yeah. I’m gonna change clothes and get Spike. Then go.”
Ed put his hands on her hips and looked down into her, deep into her.
“You okay?”
“Not bad.”
“I got you something.”
“Something?”
“A present.”
“Really?”
Ed walked down the aisle a few paces and opened one of the tack trunks there.
“Here,” he said, handing Ruby a cloth sack.
“What is it?”
“Look inside and see.”
Ruby opened the sack and pulled out two beautiful pieces of leather. There was a collar with a brass plaque reading SPIKE and a lovely leash as well.
“These are beautiful!” Ruby practically screamed.
“Had the bridle maker make them,” Ed said, “that guy down in Maryland. Spike will look good in that.”
Ruby thought fleetingly of the vegan Goth girl at the pet store in Trout Falls and repressed a smile. “Thank you, Ed, thank you.” She reached up, pulled his head closer, and kissed him vigorously.
He dug his fingers into the small of her back.
“I’ll see you at home,” Ruby said.
She felt his eyes on her ass as she walked over to the office door.
Spike jumped off the couch and wiggled. He was going at it so hard it was a struggle putting his new collar on. Once Ruby did get the collar on though, it was a thing of beauty. Spike looked like a million bucks. Ruby picked him up, which wasn’t easy. He was pushing fifty pounds now. She let him lick her cheek then put him down and closed the office door so she could change into barn clothes. Spike started bouncing off the walls, jumping onto the couch then off again, looking at Ruby and making little whining noises in his throat in case she had any doubts about his needing a good long romp.
Ruby took her hair down and looked at herself in the tiny mirror hanging to the right of Ed’s desk. The facial bruising was long gone, but there were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was narrow and pale. Ruby had never been a rosy-cheeked corn-fed type, but right now she looked nearly cadaverous. She really hadn’t been eating, riding her bike, or doing much yoga. The only time she moved her body was when she hoisted herself up onto Jack Valentine’s back every few days to trot around the paddock. She wondered how long she’d looked like this and why no one had said anything.
“Ugh,” she said aloud.
Spike tilted his head and looked at her.
“I don’t always look like this,” Ruby said.
The dog tilted his head the other way.
Ruby was supposed to be at The Hole by 5 P.M. to help Coleman with the kids who were coming for a horsemanship lesson. And Bob, who’d been afraid to do anything other than be nice and grovel for several weeks, had dared to ask Ruby to stop by the museum later to help him sort through slides for a history of Coney Island lecture. Elsie wanted Ruby to look through a baby-naming book with her that night. And there were probably a half dozen other things she was supposed to do too. But it could wait. All of it.
Ruby drove with the windows down, letting the wind cool her. Spike was squinting, the wind