I dip one hand into the pool and let the tiny waves tug my arm back and forth.

It’s hot, almost noon, and I’ve been out here almost an hour. Or more than an hour. I’ve lost track of time. The thriller I have propped open on my knees is absolutely enthralling.

It’s not what I should be working on. I should be buried in manuscripts from work.

I just can’t bring myself to read them.

I’ve taken the pad from one of the lounge chairs and moved it right next to the pool’s edge, commandeering a pillow from inside to make the world’s most comfortable reading area. Yesterday, when it got too hot, I dragged over one of the tables and arranged it in the perfect spot. I get just enough sun to stay deliciously warm, but not so much that I get burned.

It’s amazing, what you can do when you don’t have anything else to think about.

It was sometime on Sunday, I think, that I stopped thinking of anything in particular. I was supposed to head back to the city on Monday, but now it’s Wednesday morning, and I haven’t the slightest urge to pack up the rental car.

It’s so nice of Helen not to fire me over this. But I do technically have the time.

I’ll go back by Friday. I really will.

“Ruby?”

The voice that echoes across the patio makes my heart stop, and I jerk upward in such a scramble that the paperback tumbles into the pool. “Shit!” I reach for it, but the motion throws me off-balance just enough that I tip forward into the pool, plunging under the surface.

It’s warm from the sun but not heated, and the water is much cooler than my skin. Cold, cold, cold. I break the surface with a gasp, pushing my hair out of my face. The paperback floats languidly toward the shallow end. I stroke over to where I can touch and snatch it out of the water.

Mom stands at the pool staircase, looking down at me with laughter in her eyes. I toss the book back out of the pool, and it lands on the tiles with a wet thwack.

“What’s all the stuff inside?” She calls out the question even though it’s just the two of us out here, and sound carries over the water.

“Just some things I bought.” I try to keep it casual, but my heart starts racing at the mention of it. 

It was Monday when I couldn’t take the emptiness of the house anymore. I just couldn’t take the way my footsteps echoed when I crossed the lobby, or the way the living room was devoid of anything I recognized. It’s like coming home to find your entire city bulldozed. So I took matters into my own hands.

There are a few places to buy antiques in Conyers Farm, and that’s where I spent all of Saturday afternoon. I didn’t get anything too outrageous. A few pieces of furniture. A few books—not really antiques, but wedged into a bookshelf in one of the stores. A writing desk that looks like Emily Dickinson could have used it.

None of it will fit in my apartment, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. As far as I know, storage units haven’t disappeared from the face of the planet.

Mom raises her sunglasses. As long as I’m in the pool, I might as well take advantage of it. I let my legs rise from the surface until I’m floating on my back, my ears just underneath the surface. Her voice, muffled by the water, is what makes me stand up again.

“What?”

“Why are you shopping? Did you get a new place?”

“No.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “It was just so empty in here.” I laugh to try and make it seem less ridiculous, what I’ve done, but even I can tell that it’s not working.

“Hey, Ruby...” My mom says this in the same tone that she used when I was a teenager. That’s what she’d say whenever she wanted to broach an uncomfortable topic with me. I’m hardly a teenager now, but it sends a little shiver of dread down my spine, like I’m about to be in trouble for saying there wouldn’t be any boys at my friend Leah’s party, when really three of them stayed until two in the morning. I take the opportunity to swim over to the staircase and climb out while Mom settles into one of the patio chairs. “I thought you were only staying for a few days.”

“It’s only been a few days.”

“Weren’t you here on Friday?”

I grab the towel I left crumpled on the patio table and dry off, hoping she’ll leave before I have to answer. “Yes.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

“Did I need to be out by a certain time?”

“No, I just—” Mom narrows her eyes. “I’m worried something is going on with you.”

“Why would you think that?” I cock my head to the side. “Is that why you came?”

“No, I’m meeting the realtor here in an hour. The interior designer at the firm has some ideas for staging the house.”

“Oh. Like what?”

“Nice try. I can see you, Ruby. You don’t look—” She frowns a little. “You don’t look happy, and I thought the idea was for you to relax.”

“I’ve been relaxing.”

“But not sleeping?”

“I’ve been sleeping.”

“You have bags under your eyes.”

“I’ve been thinking, too.”

“What’s on your mind?”

There’s a lie on the tip of my tongue, but the truth comes out instead. “I wasn’t...honest about Levi Blake.”

Mom shakes her head. “About the auction?”

“No, about...” I take a deep breath. I have to get the words out, and fast, because it sounds stupid even in my head. “We were dating.”

“You were dating?” Mom’s eyes light up. “Was it going well?”

I roll my eyes. “Obviously not, since I’m here, and I look like shit.”

She clicks her tongue at me. “I didn’t say that. What happened?”

“We had a disagreement.”

“Over...”

“Over the way he handled the...the sale.”

“I thought it was going to be an auction.”

“Yes. He found someone to buy it all before there was an auction. And I—” My throat goes tight again, and I clear it. “It all happened too fast.”

Mom looks at me, her eyes understanding. “I know this has been hard for you.”

“It’s not a big—”

“It is a big deal, Ruby, and it’s okay to admit it.” She looks down at her hands. “This place, those things—those were going to be yours one day. But I don’t think that’s exactly what you’re upset about.”

“What am I upset about?”

She stands up and takes my hand in hers. “It was scary as hell, what happened to Henry. And what happened with Dad’s business...it was awful. And I know how much you wanted to keep things together, any way that you could. This house was always where we kept it together. That’s why we didn’t divide our time between many properties. We wanted you kids to have an anchor. And honey, you did your best to save it for us.” Mom gives me a sad smile. “It’s heartbreaking, that we had to give it up to save ourselves.” She puts a hand on my cheek. “You did a beautiful job, though. And I know how hard that was for you.”

For the first time since Friday, I break down.

My mom wraps her arms around me. When the sobs have finally subsided, she whispers in my ear. “Go take a shower. You can come to my meeting with me.” She squeezes me one more time. “And if you want to, Ruby—it’s okay to forgive him.”