Embittered Ruby (30 page)
Authors: Nicole O'Dell
Carmen watched the horses run through the snowy pasture. Freedom.
No matter how Nate felt about her, in a weird way Carmen felt bound to him. They created life together. Sure, the way Carmen had gone about it was treacherous. And yes, she deserved to be hated. But that didn’t change the fact that the life had existed. Their DNA was linked for eternity—if there was a God and a heaven.
Carmen’s heart skipped a beat. Would she have to face her baby one day and explain what had happened? Tell her or him why they never met in this life? She hadn’t meant for the baby to die. But she had definitely made stupid choices that led up to the miscarriage.
How about Nate? Would that mean they were linked in some weird way in heaven—if they both made it there. If it was real. If they were both married to other people, yet they shared a child, how would that work? She’d have to get some of those questions answered before she’d ever be able to believe in God again. Too many unknowns and impossibilities.
“There you are.” Donna looked so cool in her purple ski jacket with the white cap pulled down over her head, her long blond hair escaping the bottom and flowing down her back. There had to be a Mr. Donna.
“So, you married?” Nothing like subtleties.
Donna coughed. “I…I was.”
“What happened?” He must have died. No one would divorce Donna.
“We’re divorced. Have been for three years.” Donna pulled on purple-and-white ski gloves and held the door open for Carmen.
“Wow. That’s awful. Do you date?”
Donna laughed. “You’re a sneaky one. Making this about me so the focus is off you? No. I don’t date at this time. Someday maybe, when I feel like God has released me from my commitment to my husband. But that time hasn’t come yet.” She faced up the mountain and began to walk.
Oh, this was going to be a real walk? Like exercise and everything? Was Carmen’s body ready for that? She’d find out soon enough.
“Now, how about you? Tell me about yourself. What do you love to do?”
At least she hadn’t opened with the bad stuff. “I love to cook. I really, really love to make gourmet dishes and try out new things. I hope to go to culinary school one day.”
“Oh? Well, in that case, we can be sure to give you the opportunity to practice. We like to encourage you all in your individual passions.” Donna stepped over a fallen log. “What else?”
“I don’t really have any other hobbies.” Unless Carmen counted playing tennis, but she may never set foot on a court again. “Oh, well I do love to read, and lately I’ve been thinking that I might like to write, like maybe even a book someday.”
“Very cool. What can we do to support you in that? You’ve seen the library, right?”
“Yeah, it’s epic. I’ll be using it a lot, I’m sure. As for writing …I assume a laptop is out of the question?” Can’t blame a girl for trying.
Donna laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s outside the range of my genie abilities.”
“Then how about a few blank notebooks?”
“Now
that
I can do.” Donna’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me this, give me one or two words to describe what it is that has brought you to this place in your life. I don’t need the details of events yet, just want to know how you would see it.”
One or two words to sum up all that she’d done? Carmen searched her mind. “Betrayal and extreme selfishness.”
“On the part of others toward you?”
“No. Me toward them.” Where was all this honesty coming from?
“Them being…?”
“Everyone.” Carmen hung her head as she trudged along the snowy path. What must Donna think of her?
“You’re a pretty self-aware young lady.” Donna squinted against the sun.
Carmen shrugged. “To be honest, I was afraid I was a sociopath. Did a little reading about it to see if I fit the description, but now I don’t think so. I mean, I have a lot of regrets, and I do care that I hurt people. But I can’t seem to stop.”
“Well right there you know you’re not a sociopath.” Donna kept her tone casual as she lifted her face to the sun. “Hmm. Let me ask you this. The things you’ve done that have really hurt people you care about—you know, the biggies…”
Carmen nodded. Those events were never far from her mind.
“Is it more often that you’ve done them to achieve or gain something you want or more often to avoid some sort of pain or negativity in your life?”
Good question. “I’m not sure. I might have to give that some thought. Can I ask you why that distinction is important? I mean, if someone else gets hurt, who cares what the reason was?”
“One signals an inflated sense of self-worth. The other simply identifies a lack of faith in God to handle the tough parts of life.”
Wow. That made perfect sense. Now Carmen had to figure out where she fell on that spectrum.
“I tell you what. I’d like to explore those extremes a bit more. Let’s make that the subject of tomorrow’s session. Sound okay?”
Carmen heard herself agreeing to ponder the ideas until they met again. How had Donna gotten into her head so easily? Carmen had thought she was smarter than that. Yet there she was. Affected.
“Knock. Knock.” Why did people say they were knocking instead of just doing it? Annoying. Carmen laid her novel across her chest. “Come in.”
Donna breezed into the room. “Hey. I have two quick things or so. One: here are some notebooks for you. Will these do?”
Carmen reached a hand down to accept three spiral-bound books. “These are perfect.”
“I also brought you this.” She handed up a faux leather satchel. “It locks with a combination right here. That way you can feel comfortable writing whatever your heart desires without fear of someone else reading it.”
Unless they steal it and break it open. But it was better than nothing. “Thanks a lot, Donna. That’s awesome.” Wow. She was way cooler than Carmen had ever expected. “Thanks for remembering and getting this stuff so fast.”
“The other thing is about the cooking. You know we’re hosting a wedding here in two weeks, right?”
Carmen nodded. Where was this going?
“How would you like to handle all of the appetizers yourself?”
She has got to be kidding. It was a dream come true. “You mean I can create and choose the selections
and
cook them?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. We’ll need a grocery list from you so we can make sure we have everything you need. There will be around one hundred guests plus all of us. It’s a week before Christmas, so it’s a holiday-themed wedding. Mark and Ginny need you to keep your budget for the appetizers around five hundred dollars. Can it be done?”
Carmen jumped to the floor. “You’re telling me that I get to create an
hors d’oeuvres
menu for one hundred and forty people with a budget of five hundred bucks—no restraints at all?” She couldn’t be serious.
“You mean you want to do it?”
“Of course.” Carmen grabbed one of her notebooks from her bed and sat hard on the desk chair. “I’m going to get started right away. This is going to be awesome.”
Donna grinned and moved toward the door. “Have fun with it. Just remember not to stay up too late. You don’t want to miss prayer time.”
Carmen looked up from her paper. “Hey Donna, thanks.”
Hand on the door frame, Donna winked. “You bet.”
Dear Nellie
,
I’m back! I have so much to tell you. First of all, you should see this place. It’s like a horror movie set. I’ve gotten myself in a little trouble exploring, but nothing major
.
Ben Bradley. He’s a piece of work. I think he means well, but he’s so intense all the time. He needs to lighten up and have a little fun. Turns out he got his girlfriend pregnant when they were in high school. They’re still married, though
.
That should have been me and Nate. They never had any more kids, and from the look on Ben’s face when I asked, there’s a story there. I wonder if his wife was never able. Maybe that’s why they do this Diamond Estates stuff
.
Justin—He is so hot. Nuff said
.
Olivia—doesn’t deserve him
.
Leila—she’s got issues. I wish she’d just get a little more confident. It’s annoying to have to drag her everywhere like a little child. And her last name is Wong. She must be adopted by that perfect family in the picture. How must she feel to be an oddball among such perfection?
Tammy is deaf? How’d that happen?
Donna—she’s pretty cool. But what’s the story about her divorce?
Oh, Nellie…we’ve got so much to talk about now
.
Love,
Carmen
Now that was a getup Carmen had never seen before. Leila stood in front of the bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped around her lower half, held by a clip since the ends barely met, and a Vail sweatshirt on top. “Aren’t you hot? It’s steamy in here.”
Leila shook her head. “Nah. I’m never hot.”
Then why was her forehead glistening? And weren’t all overweight people usually sweaty?
Carmen went back to her bed, reached under the mattress, and pulled out her satchel. She spun the little dials, and the lock popped open. Flipping the notebook open to Leila’s page with one hand, she plucked the pen cap off with her teeth.
Dear Nellie
,
This has to be quick because she’ll be right back
.
Leila always wears long sleeves, even in a hot and steamy bathroom right after a shower. She says she’s never hot. But she says that even while sweat drips down her face. Is she hiding something under that shirt, or is she just trying to cover her body as much as she can?
Also, why is she so elusive? She’s never around. Just when I think she’s disappeared, she shows up somewhere, and then I wonder if she was really there all along
.
And why is she always in the bathroom?
Love,
Carmen
Carmen recapped the pen and shoved the book into her bag, spun the lock, and tucked it under her mattress as Leila entered the room. “Can we talk?”
Leila’s face registered surprise. “Uh, sure.”
“Are you happy here?” Carmen cocked her head in concern.
“Happy? I’m not sure that’s the goal. I’m satisfied. I think I needed to be here. I wish…Oh, never mind.”
“No. Tell me. You wish what?”
“I wish I fit in with the girls more. I’m always the outsider…but that’s nothing new.” Leila shrugged and turned her back.
“Why do you feel like you don’t fit in?”
“Well, look at the two of us. We got here on the same day just over a week ago. You have tons of friends; I have none. Well, except for the sympathy friendships like yours, Tricia’s, and Kira’s.”
“You have friends—and more than only sympathy ones.”
“Not the way I see it.”
“Can I speak frankly?”
Leila shrugged again. “Go for it.”
“You really can’t blame other people for you not fitting in. You haven’t done your part. You need to get in there and mingle. Talk to people. Put yourself out there so they can respond. They aren’t going to come hunt you down—you have to go where they are and then make yourself noticeable when you do.” It probably was more natural for Carmen—she realized that. And she didn’t carry the baggage of being self-conscious like Leila did, but still. Leila needed to make an effort.
