“Yes, I like Ashleigh, she can come.” Ruby doesn’t even ask my opinion. “Is her last name Whittington? I think we did some pageants together back in the day.”
“Ashleigh Barnes now,” I correct her. “But yeah, that was her maiden name.”
Of course Ashleigh was a pageant girl. I should’ve known from her perfect posture and unnerving ability to keep a smile on her face.
“She was always really sweet, and not in a phony way. How funny that she ended up being your neighbor.”
“Oh good!” My mom claps her hands together. “I’ll give her a call and let her know you’ll be by to pick her up shortly.” She starts to leave my room, but before she turns the corner, she stops and turns around. “It really is good to see you smile again, Collins. I hope you know how loved you are.”
Between her soft tone and the expression on her face, which is so sincere it knocks my breath away, I struggle to fight back a new wave of tears. Before I can even open my mouth to come up with a response, she’s gone.
“I love your mom.” Even Ruby’s steadfast voice seems a little shaky.
“She’s the best.”
It’s fun to give her a hard time about her obsession with Matthew, Luke, John, and her bedazzled Bible, but I’ve never not known how incredibly lucky I am to have her as my mom. Well, maybe for like a month in seventh grade, but middle schoolers suck and I cannot be held responsible for the things my hormonal little body made me say and do.
“All righty then.” Ruby, never one to get sidetracked by pesky things like feelings, bounces right back into her usual no-nonsense self. “There’s an outfit on your dresser. If you even contemplate switching the denim for leggings, please be aware that I will tackle you to the ground. Also, I know all the kids are wearing them and your podiatrist told you they were a good option, but please, for your friend who flew to Ohio for you, give the Crocs a rest for the day.”
“My friend who flew to Ohio?” I repeat her words back to her. She might not be a midwestern mom (yet), but she already has the guilt trips down pat. “How can I argue with that?”
“You can’t.” She winks. “You know arguments are how I make a living; you don’t stand a chance against me.”
The worst part is that I didn’t stand a chance even before she decided to go to school for it. Luckily, though, we’re usually on the same page and having her on my side of a debate is the best thing in the world. Looking back, I’m pretty sure it’s why Peter wasn’t crazy about her. All my other friends worshipped the ground he walked on, but Ruby? Ruby saw right through him. She loved to come over and debate him on whatever subject he deemed himself an expert on . . . and there were a lot.
“Speaking of flying to Ohio . . .” Segues have never been my strong point. “How long until you fly back to LA?”
“I’m here for at least a week, but maybe longer,” she says. “I haven’t touched my PTO since I started working. Between the time I’ve accrued and the ability to work via video calls, I could stay here for a month.”
She might not say it outright, but I can read the subtext. She’s here until she knows I won’t fall apart. And I love her even more.
“Oh my god!” I grab her hands when I realize the best, worst news ever. “Does that mean you’ll help me run my HOA campaign?”
“Ughhhhh. You know I didn’t like anyone when I lived here.” She rolls her eyes so hard, for a minute I think they might actually get stuck in the back of her head. “I’m pretty sure I toilet-papered a few houses you’re going to want votes from. Are you sure you want me on your team? Plus, you know how intense I get. Once I start, you won’t be able to get me to leave.”
“Of course I know! Why else do you think I’m asking? If you’re there, it will be so much fun! We can pass out flyers and silently judge everyone just like the old days!” I tighten my grip on her hand, fully prepared to not let go until she says yes. “Please. You know I’m not above begging.”
“Judging people does sound fun.” She taps her foot as she considers it, and I can tell she’s softening. “I’ll do it under one condition.”
“I will do literally anything. I mean, look at me.” I gesture to my bedroom, which only minutes ago looked like a scene from a low-budget horror film. “I’m living with my parents, involved in the most contentious HOA campaign that has maybe ever existed, and my temper tantrum is going to haunt me until my dying days. Do you really think there’s anything I won’t do at this point?”
“All right . . .” She leans in with the same conspiratorial grin that used to precede all our most wild nights. I lean in, too, excited to hear whatever scheme she’s concocting. “You don’t ever, and I mean ever, ignore my calls like this again. I was out of my mind worried about you!”
“Rubes—” I start, but she cuts me off with a long finger pointed in my face.
“No, you don’t get to Rubes me. You completely shut me out.” Her eyes gloss over and her voice trembles. “That’s not the kind of friends we are, Collins. You don’t hide from me. We show each other everything. The good, the bad, the fucking ugly. We are there through it all. You don’t ever need to hide in your stinky-ass bedroom from me. Do you understand me?”
She’s talking about me, but I know she’s right back to the summer when she found out her dad had been lying to her for years. He hadn’t just had a series of one-night stands; he had an entire other life that he was living. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so destroyed. It changed her in a way I still have trouble articulating. After that summer, her worldview changed. Where she found safety before, she now saw danger. But instead of cowering behind doors (or in her bedroom in stinky old sweats) she figured out a way to fight back. Sometimes I still wonder what path she would’ve gone down if her dad hadn’t done what he did.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t try to make excuses, because there are none for shutting her out the way I did. It was selfish and maybe even cruel. “I’ll never do it again. I was worried about burdening you with the same old song and dance, but you should’ve been my first call and I’m sorry I didn’t do that.”
“I can always hold space for you and you are never a burden,” she says. “You’re my best friend and I love you. Don’t hesitate to ever ask me to help carry whatever you’re going through.”
“I love you too.” I hug her again, this one shorter and less tearful than the last. “Also,” I say as I pull away, “did you just say you can always hold space for me? Does that mean what I think it means?”
“Ughhhh. Yes, I’m seeing Monique again.” She scowls at me when I can’t bite back my smile any longer. “You weren’t answering the fucking phone! Who else was I supposed to call?”