Ch. 9

Ruby and Archie wasted no time signing up for the talent contest. Ruby met him after work outside City Hall, where the sign-up sheet was tacked to the giant information board. There were already at least seven names on the list, some surprising and others a given, like Marco (surprising), Henry (not-so-surprising), and Sidney Glass (utterly baffling).

Archie walked Ruby home and they chatted all the way about their routine, what song to use, even what they would wear. Archie stopped a few houses away from the Inn. Ruby picked up on his hesitation and, not wanting another lecture from Granny, waved and said she could walk the rest of the way by herself.

Ruby stayed in her room the rest of the night, watching old videos of Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly on the internet. Archie also stayed in his room, going through his clothes to pick out an outfit for the show. He focused on red—no doubt Ruby would come up with a fantastic dress in that same color—and decided on a red button-down shirt and a black tie.

Ruby approved of the choice when she saw him the next day in his office. Archie's schedule was clear from one to three, and Ruby didn't have to work until four, so they pushed furniture aside and blared Benny Goodman from the computer, dancing until they were out of breath and sweaty. Ruby blushed as Archie held her close, thinking sheepishly that their lovemaking on the dance floor was like lovemaking in real life—their hearts pumping, their breath labored, their bodies swaying rhythmically in tune with one another. It was a fleeting thought that made her lose her grip on his hand and fall to the hardwood floor when he tried to twirl her.

"Are you okay?" Archie asked, kneeling next to his fallen partner.

"I-I'm fine." Ruby laughed, her face scorching with embarrassment. "Sorry, just lost my footing."

"Maybe we should try ball-changing on the two, instead?"

Ruby snorted a laugh, then slapped a hand over her mouth. She stood on quivering legs, feeling giddy and dirty and just plain silly. It was the oddest sensation that wouldn't let her go since her movie night with Archie—everything was funny, rose-tinted and musical—and she felt like she had stepped into an alternate world where pain and sadness was a foreign language. Ruby wondered if this was what it was like to be properly drunk.

"You're in love," Emma said. It was the next day and Ruby stopped by the station while the sheriff was working to deliver her a turkey sandwich. And some concern.

"Love?" Ruby parroted. "That's a little heavy."

Emma shrugged. Her feet were up on her desk, chunks of shaved turkey falling into the napkin on her lap. "There's lots of different kinds of love. But when it hits you, man—" she raised her brows and shook her head, "—it hits you hard."

Ruby dangled her feet as she sat on the edge of the sheriff's desk and looked out the window. More snow had fallen overnight, covering the town in a white cottony blanket. She realized, in the peaceful whiteness of the outside, that she had never been in love before. Her flings with boys (yes, they were boys, not men like Archie) were too short-lived for it to blossom into anything other than infatuation. All Ruby knew about love was what she heard in songs on the radio. Sleepless nights. Erratic dancing. Smiling like a goof. And then there was the sickness, a real ailment that Ruby had always thought was just an exaggeration. She felt nauseous if she was away from Archie too long, her heart flaking away like fine chocolate with no one to taste it.

Ruby looked at Emma. "Do you think it's weird?"

"What, you and Archie?" Emma pondered this for a moment, taking a giant bite of her sandwich and flicking mayo from the corner of her mouth with her pinky. She shrugged. "I can see it, I guess. Archie doesn't exactly scream "teen heartthrob," but he does have kind of a dorky charm."

Ruby giggled. "Did I tell you he made dinner for me? He even baked a pie."

"Really?"

"Well, it was frozen, but—"

"Jeeze, it sounds like he's got it bad for you, too. Why don't you just tell him how you feel?"

Ruby's smile faded and she lowered her head. "No, I-I couldn't."

"What?" Emma took her feet of the desk and sat up. "I've never known you to be shy around guys, Ruby."

"Well, this is different!" Ruby stood from the desk and adjusted her red knit beret. "What if he actually doesn't think of me like that? What if he just sees me as a dance partner?"

"There's only one way to find out."

"Yeah, but—" Ruby let out a frustrated sigh. "If he doesn't feel the same way, it'll be awkward until the talent show. I don't want to jeopardize our chances."

Emma shrugged. "Then don't tell him."

Ruby rolled her eyes and groaned. "You're not helpful at all!" She turned on her heels and stomped out of the office.

Emma grinned as she chewed her sandwich. "Tell him!" she called after the young girl.

0000000

Ruby hadn't intended to sneak out of the house the next night. It was just that Granny was sitting in the den, on the chair facing closest to the door, and Ruby didn't stand a chance trying to get past her without giving an explanation. The old woman was knitting one of her elaborate scarves while watching Murder Files, laughing at the TV whenever the murderer got caught.

"Good luck in prison, pretty boy!" Granny snickered.

Ruby was crouched on the stairs, waiting for Granny to get up to go to the bathroom or get something from the kitchen, but the innkeeper had planted herself in her armchair with no intention of missing another grisly case. Ruby finally gave up stalking and retreated to her room. She relied on an old standby that had served her well when she used to sneak out to see Billy: bed sheets out the window. It was a cliché, but it worked. She tied one end of the red cotton sheets to the foot of her four-poster bed, and threw the other ends out the window.

It wasn't a far climb down, only three stories, but there was nothing to break Ruby's fall except the cement patio. She inched herself down, her boots catching the neighboring windowsills. On the second floor, the window opened from a guest's room and Leroy poked his head out. He scowled at Ruby as she dangled precariously from the wall.

"What do you think you're doin', sister?"

"Shh!" Ruby grunted as she continued lowering herself down. She whispered to the gruff janitor, "Do me a favor—go up to my room and untie the bed sheets when I get down. Put them under my bed so Granny doesn't see."

"What's in it for me?" Leroy asked.

Ruby finally reached the patio and jumped down the half-story to her feet. "I'll bring you back some whiskey!"

Leroy's face brightened. "Crown Royal?"

Ruby gave him a look. "Don't push it."

Leroy turned his head, cupped a hand next to his mouth, and yelled, "Hey, Granny! Graaaany!"

"Shh!" Ruby hissed. "Okay, okay! Crown Royal."

"You have a deal." He blew Ruby a kiss like a knight bidding his lover farewell and retreated back inside.

Ruby backed away from the inn and crouched near the bushes until she was sure Leroy would hold up his end of the bargain. When her crimson sheets slithered back up into her room, Ruby turned and fled down the street. She was out of breath by the time she reached Archie's. He opened the door to his apartment with a wide smile. Ruby could smell something cooking on the stove and her stomach rumbled.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi. Come on in." Archie motioned her inside. "Was Granny upset?"

"Uh . . ." Ruby looked around the room, avoiding Archie's eyes as he took her coat. "She was fine. I told her I was hanging out with Mary Maragret."

Archie twisted his mouth into a frown as he hung up Ruby's coat. "It's a shame we have to lie."

Guilt pierced Ruby's heart. "I'll give her some of the prize money if we win the talent show."

"When we win," Archie assured, his smile returning.

Ruby grinned. She tapped her fists together nervously and hoped she wasn't being too obvious with her red dress and hoop earrings. She told herself she just wanted to get Archie's opinion on the garment for the show, and from the dazzled look in his eye, Ruby knew he liked it.

Ruby got to work on the computer as Archie finished making dinner. She was looking at detailed dance moves, steps drawn out by professionals in Boston, Chicago, and LA. She made notes about timing and how to present herself at a competition, big smiles and graceful bows, and pulled up her favorite clips of dance competitions she had e-mailed to herself.

"I like West-coast style," Ruby said from the kitchen table. "I think we should do that one."

"Are you sure?" Archie said from the kitchen. He was taking a casserole from the oven with the most adorable pair of powder blue oven mitts.

He carried the glass dish to the table, tossed one of his mitts down, and set the casserole on top. Ruby licked her lips. It smelled like mushrooms and gravy, potatoes and some cut of beef. She carried Archie's laptop to the living room and set it on the couch next to a sleeping Pongo.

"Maybe Balboa-style is better," Ruby said, sitting at the table.

"Ooh, I like that one." Archie scooped up some casserole with a ladle and loaded Ruby's pale. He had already poured them milk and set bread and butter next to the glass dish. "How are you feeling about aerials?"

Ruby shrugged and dug her fork in the scrumptious-looking food without waiting for Archie. "I think I'll be okay. As long as you catch me."

Archie sat opposite of Ruby and smiled dreamily. "Always." He raised his glass.

Ruby blushed and raised hers. They clinked milk glasses and laughed. Ruby brought a forkful of the dish to her lips and moaned happily. It was delicious. Archie watched her eat, smiling with that glazed, far-off look on his face. Ruby wasn't ashamed of her appetite anymore. She knew good food when she tasted it and thought it was a compliment to eat like an animal.

Halfway through the meal, Ruby stopped eating and slowly put her fork down. She watched Archie nibble his food like a rabbit, an adorable red-furred rabbit in glasses. She grinned, knowing it must have taken him a while to prepare the food, to light the fire, and to pick out the perfect jazz soundtrack for their meal. It was the most romantic "non-date" Ruby had ever been on, even better than their last meal together.

"Archie?"

The doctor raised his head and looked at Ruby. "Hmm?"

Just tell him how you feel, Emma had said. As if it was as easy as all that. As if there was no chance Archie would refuse her, let her down gently but still wounding her greatly. The idea that he reciprocated her feelings thrilled her. They could have dates like this all the time, and maybe she could even cook for him, watch old movies, read the paper together on Sunday afternoons and . . .

"I, uh . . ." Ruby opened and closed her mouth like a fish on land. She smiled shyly, and Archie's face suddenly got very serious, very hopeful. "I think I . . . I-I mean, I want to tell you—"

Ruby's phone rang, breaking her stuttering confession. She blinked as if snapping out of a daydream. Archie shook his head slightly, coming down from his own dream-like state, and motioned to her purse on the table.

"You gonna get that?" he asked.

Ruby sighed. On the one hand, she was grateful for the interruption. On the other, she could have killed whomever was on the other end. Ruby excused herself from the table and fished her cell phone from her red sequined purse. It was a number she didn't recognize, and Ruby wondered for a moment if Granny had found out and was calling from a payphone to try and trick her.

Ruby flipped the phone open and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?"

Archie watched Ruby quizzically. Her face went from confused, to alarmed, then confused again.

"What?" Ruby cried.

Archie stood. "What is it?" he whispered.

"Are you sure?" Ruby said into the phone.

There was a tick of silence, a heartbeat of terror that filled the room as Ruby's eyes became increasingly more upset.

"Okay, I'll be right there." Ruby snapped the phone shut. Tears welled in her eyes. "Granny's in the hospital."

To be continued