I’m pulled from Michael and Alex by the quiet that descends upon the room. The man who fell into Alex has effectively broken up most of the fight. Ryan and Grady are still bitching at each other but slowly come to realize that something else is going on around them. Grady pushes Ryan off of him and redirects his attention. Ryan’s quizzical look moves to what’s caught Grady’s attention. It’s Michael and Alex, being unwittingly reunited, that has the entire room falling into a hush. Ryan’s pained expression shocks me. He looks like he’s at war with himself, trying to keep himself in place, when he really wants to rip Alex out of Michael’s arms.
“Michael?” It’s Ruby. She sounds softer, quieter right now. I search the crowd and find her coming out from behind Ryan. He doesn’t move to stop her, but he does reach up and place a hand on her shoulder as she passes. When she’s out of reach, it falls back down to his side. The pained expression on his face gives way to a somber one, and I realize that what I’m seeing is more significant than I thought. Michael and Alex didn’t know Ruby is their birth mother until recently. They never even knew she existed until Alex got to town. The pieces start to fit together in my head, and I come to the conclusion that if Alex hasn’t been able to see Michael in almost a year, then that means Ruby likely hasn’t either.
Ruby’s eyes are filled with tears as she takes a wobbly step in the twins’ direction. Alex pulls back from Michael and moves to stand beside him. Her face is red and wet with tears as her eyes volley between her mother and her brother. Michael stands unflinchingly as he stares at the woman who gave birth to him. His eyes aren’t wide exactly, but they’re searching her face for something. Maybe recognition, or to see if he thinks he looks like her at all. I don’t know, but it’s difficult to watch. I barely know these people and I’m nearly moved to tears by being witness to their reunion.
“So, you’re my mom, huh?” Michael tries to smile, but it falls flat. The sheer magnitude of the situation appears to have hit him.
Ruby nods and tries for a yes, but it doesn’t really come out. She takes another step, this one even less steady, and places a hand over her mouth as a guttural sob rips through her. I want to do something, anything to busy myself from this intimate moment, but like everybody else in the room, I can’t stop myself from watching. Michael takes a small step forward and pauses. He goes to reach out to her but stops and lowers his arms. He’s both awkward and vulnerable, a combination I couldn’t have guessed he’s capable of.
Ruby’s knees give out, and she falls to the floor. Jim moves to crouch down behind her but doesn’t obstruct her view of her son. He whispers something in her ear and rubs her shoulders. It’s only a few seconds, but it feels like forever as Michael takes one step after another and meets his mother on the floor. There are unshed tears in his eyes, and his chest is heaving. I can’t be sure, but I bet his heart is racing a million miles a minute right now. Mine is and this isn’t even my family or my moment. Ruby cries harder when Michael crouches down to her level. He barely has his arms open before Ruby throws herself into them and hugs him so fiercely I’m afraid she might break one of his ribs.
Finally I take my eyes off of mother and son and look for the man I know has to be watching this. This is Ian’s family and his history. I look around but don’t find him at first. Behind the crowd, I see him moving through the room with the pool table and toward the back of the clubhouse. I don’t even think about it as I’m following him. He opens a door and steps out into the bright sunlight, not bothering to close it behind him.
Outside, the sun nearly blinds me. It takes a few moments before my eyes can see normally again. I’ve never been behind the clubhouse, so I take a moment to look around. There’s a basketball hoop attached to the tall fence and a few picnic tables that look no worse for wear than the ones out front. Ian keeps moving, so I stop surveying my surroundings and get a move on. He walks through a gate in the fence at the very back and disappears from my line of sight. Just like out front, the chain-link fence back here has black privacy slats that are spray painted with white paint that reads WHERE SOULS SPOIL AND HEARTS ROT in bold lettering.
Through the gate now, I find that we’re standing near the edge of a cliff. The clubhouse sits on the ocean side of Main Street. Much of the coast is federal property, so I didn’t expect to be standing so close to the water back here. The chain-link fence the government has up to restrict access is a couple hundred feet away and partially shielded by the occasional redwood. I can’t imagine we’re supposed to be out here, but I don’t care. It’s gorgeous the way the jagged cliff looks with the blue-gray sky as a backdrop and the sounds of the ocean meeting the shore. The only thing that competes is the man standing on the rock, at the very edge, with his hands shoved in his pockets and his head hanging down.