Nora took a bite of bacon. Her chewing was a loud crunch-crunch-crunch. “We need to go grocery shopping.”
Fine."
“How about this morning?”
Ruby nodded. Finishing her last bite, she stood up and began cleaning the table. “I'll do the dishes. We'll leave in about thirty minutes?”
“Make it an hour. I have to figure out how in the hell to do a sponge bath.”
“I could lasso your leg and lower you into the bath like an anchor.”
Nora laughed. “No, thanks. I don't want to drown naked with my leg stuck up in the air. The tabloids would have a field day with that.”
The remark took a moment to sink in. When it did,
Ruby turned back to the table. “I wouldn't let you drown.”
“I know. But would you rescue me?” Without waiting for an answer; Nora spun around and rolled into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
Ruby stood there, staring at the closed door.
Would you rescue me?
The Benevolent Order of the Sisters of St. Francis had first come to Summer Island during World War One. A generous donor (who had no doubt lived a life that imperiled his immortal soul) had granted them more than one hundred waterfront acres. The sisters, who were equally high-minded in spiritual and business matters, had opened a general store next to the dock that would become the ferry terminal. On the rolling acreage behind the store, they'd built a sanctuary that tourists never saw. They raised cattle and owned the most profitable apple orchard on the island. They wove their own cloth, dyed it with extracts from their own gardens, and hand-stitched it into brown robes. Their sanctuary was open to any of their order; as well as to any woman who sought refuge from an unhappy life. Such women were welcomed into the fold and given that precious commodity so missing from the hectic, violent outside world: time. Here, they could don the clothing of their grandmothers, do the. simple chores required of subsistence living, and commune with the God they felt they'd lost.
On Sundays, the sisters opened their small wooden chapel to their friends and neighbors. A priest from the monastery on a nearby island conducted quiet services in Latin. It was a humble church, where no one minded the cries of bored babies or the emptiness of a collection plate when times turned hard.
Theirs was still the only store on the island. Ruby pulled the minivan into the gravel parking lot behind the “He Will Provide” grocery store and parked beside a rusty pickup truck.
She helped Nora into the chair. Together they made their way down the rickety wooden boardwalk that connected the town's three buildings. Wisteria grew along the posts that supported the roof's overhang and festooned the upper timbers with fragrant white flowers. Here and there along the boardwalk were benches, handmade by the sisters. Later in the tourist season, those seats would be filled by people waiting for a ferry.
Ruby came to the store's screen door and pulled it open. A bell tinkled gaily overhead as they wheeled inside. The murky store was long and narrow, built like a shoe box.
Light pushed through the twin windows and illuminated a small desk with a cash register on it. Beyond that, layered wooden bookcases held carefully arranged canned goods. A small freezer offered all manner of Island-raised meat-beef, chicken, pork, lamb-and a refrigerated case held vegetables grown on the sisters' own land.
The nun at the cash register looked up at their entrance.
“Nora Bridge? Ruby? I don't believe it!” SisterHelen waddled around the desk, her skirt hiked up to reveal heavy white calves sheathed in nubby woolen socks. Her green rubber clogs thumped with every step. Her fleshy face was scrunched into a welcoming grin that turned her bespectacled eyes into slits. She looked-as always-like a sprightly old gnome. “PraiseGod,” Sister said. Her thick German accent turned the words into Praise Gott. “It has been so long...” She turned to Ruby. “And how is the funny one?”
Ruby smiled. “I'm still a stitch, Sister. How ”bout you-got any good Heaven jokes for me?"
“I will think on it, that is for sure. It is wunderbar to see you both.” She elbowed Ruby. “Mother Ruth still talks about the day your rabbit ran through services, ja? She will be happy to see you again.” Ruby stepped away from the wheelchair. “I ... uh... haven't been to services in a while. I'm only on the island a week, anyway.” Helen gave her “the look”-every Catholic recognized it. “There is a Sunday in every week, ja?”
“Uh . . .maybe."
Nora smiled up at the nun. “Some things never change.”
Helen nodded. Her habit slipped down on her forehead and she gave it a quick shove back. “Most things never change. That is what I have learned in seventy-three years of life.” She leaned back on her heels and crossed her beefy arms. “It is good to see you two together again, that much is for sure. You have stayed away from this island for too long.” She turned to Ruby. “You have babies, ja like your sister?”
“No babies-and before you ask, no husband. I'm either footloose and fancy free or lonely and unlovable. Take your pick.”
Helen laughed. “Always you were this way, Ruby. Making a joke out of everything. However-just for the record-my guess would be ... fancy free and lonely.” She clapped her hands together. “Anyway, the store is set up as it always was. Get what you need. Shall I begin a new account for you?”
“No,” Ruby answered.
“Yes,” Nora said at the same time, shooting her a dark look. “I may be here a while.”
Ruby grabbed one of the small red baskets stacked by the desk and handed it to Nora. “Let's get started.”
They moved past the tourist supply section-postcards, pens with ferries on them, little brown and white candlesticks made from Mount Saint Helens ash, Christmas ornaments. Ruby went on ahead; Nora rolled slowly behind her.
They came to the cereal first. Ruby grabbed a box of Cap'n Crunch and tossed it into the basket in her mother's lap.
“There's nothing good for you in that cereal.”
Ruby turned, saw her mother's frown. “Should I get the kind with crunchberries? It adds fruit.”
“Very funny. Will you grab one of those granolas for me-the sisters make it, if I remember correctly.”