can’t believe you still feel like celebrating,” Maria says in a quiet voice, and chucks a roll of streamers over a low branch. “Not like I know the history or anything, but what was that all about?”
“No clue,” I say, and pull my arms inside my sweatshirt.
Beth rips off a piece of duct tape with gritted teeth. “All guys are the same. It’s like they’ve got special radar and, when they sense you’re completely over them, they show up again just for the sake of messing with your head.” She pauses to take a sip from my bottle. “Pete Southern did the same thing about a month after he dumped me. But it was beyond too late for any apologies. Right, Ruby?”
Pete was Beth’s first and only boyfriend. They dated for about two months last year and their unexpected breakup was really hard on her. I guess there are a few similarities. The tip of my nose feels icy, so I pull my head down into my T-shirt like a turtle to warm it up. I can make out Beth’s shape through the thin cotton.
She takes a step toward me. “Ruby, you know there isn’t an I’m sorry big enough in the entire world to ever make up for how he bailed on you and your mom.”
It’s true. My dad is a total loser and not at all worth any of my waning birthday hours. But I don’t want to start some big discussion about this. I pop my head out and walk back over to sit down on a swing.
“It just seems so random,” Maria says. “I think —”
Beth interrupts her with a heavy sigh. “Listen, the worst thing we could do is let him ruin Ruby’s birthday.”
“I totally agree,” I say, pumping my legs and picking up some speed. “It’s a nonissue. It’s over. So let’s quit talking about it, okay?”
Katherine picks a scab off her elbow. “Why’d your dad leave in the first place?”
Beth sticks her finger up in the air. “Okay. Wait up. If we’re going to talk about this, no one can refer to him as Ruby’s dad. Because he’s not. He’s essentially a stranger.”
It’s weird to hear someone say that about your dad. But Beth’s right. He hasn’t been that for a long, long time, and I’ve got to keep reminding myself of it.
Katherine rolls her eyes. “Well, what should we call him then? What’s his name?”
“It’s Jim,” I say.
“Fine. Then why’d Jim leave in the first place?”
Maria’s head perks up.
There’s no way to hide the pissy tone in my voice, so I don’t even try. “I don’t know, Katherine. I guess he fell out of love with my mom.” What a stupid question.
“He doesn’t pay child support, does he?” Maria drags a stick through the dirt.
“Not really.” I think we used to get money orders every so often. But not for a long time. That’s why Mom is always at the hospital, picking up extra shifts.
“Maybe this will help your mom finally move on.” Maria crosses, then uncrosses her legs. “’Cause, I mean, she’s totally hot. And she doesn’t ever date. Right?”
The party scene whirls past my eyes as I swing higher and higher. “Right. She doesn’t.” I make my voice sound as flat as possible, so Maria and Katherine will get the hint already and remember that this is my party, not a therapy session. Maria shoots me an apologetic smile and returns to streamer duty.
For a second, I feel bad. I know Maria has a lot of questions about my family situation. Maybe it’s weird that we’ve never really talked about it before, even though I consider her a close friend. The thing is, I don’t have any details to give. Dad left, Mom’s heart was broken, she completely shut down, and I went a little bit crazy dealing with everything on my own. But I eventually learned how to handle it, with Beth’s help. The whole story ended tonight with me walking out that door. The beginning doesn’t matter anymore.
My swing creaks back, blowing my hair across my face. At the apex, Katherine materializes dead center before me. I rush forward and grind the toes of my Converses into the wood chips to keep myself from plowing into her. The world catches up to me in three-second swirling delay.
I’m pretty tipsy.
Katherine’s forehead creases with deep thought. “But what about you, Ruby?”
I use my sneaker to smooth the splayed wood chips around me. My hands feel clammy around the cool metal chains. “What about me?”
“He fell out of love with your mom. I get that. But why’d your dad leave you?”
Katherine might as well have kicked me in the chest. I can’t seem to catch my breath.
“Not cool, Katherine,” Maria says, and rolls her eyes.
“Seriously,” Beth says.
Katherine puffs up. “What? That’s a valid question! Lots of people get divorced, but still stay close to their kids. I mean, that’s why my dad’s getting an apartment across town.”
Beth runs over and stands next to me. “Katherine, your situation is completely —” she begins, but then her cell phone rings. She fishes it out of her pocket and holds the screen up to my face.
My home number.
I shake my head, unable to push words out of my mouth. She hands the phone to Maria, who answers it and drifts away toward the fence.
“Listen. None of this is about Ruby,” Beth says. “Jim’s having some stupid midlife crisis. He’s trying to make himself feel better so he can go on with his life somewhere else.”
“Sure,” Katherine says quietly, before tipping her head back and taking a huge sip of champagne. “I guess that could be it.”
“That is it,” Beth insists. “And the best part is that Ruby didn’t let him off the hook.” She pats me on the back. “Tonight was the best thing that could have happened for you, Ruby. Trust me.”
Maria returns, pushing aside a clump of dangling streamers. She forces a smile.
“What did her mom say?” Beth asks.
“She wanted to make sure Ruby is okay. And that we’d have her home by midnight. She sounded totally normal. Not crying or anything.”
I’m not surprised. Mom doesn’t cry in front of me. She’s definitely not going to be all blubbery to Maria. Still, seeing Dad had to be hard for her. “Was he there?” I ask, suddenly finding my voice. Because seeing him leave us again would be even worse.
Beth cocks her head to the side. “Do you want him to be there?”
Something about the way Beth asks this question makes me think it’s a trick. I feel like the answer tattooed on my heart is maybe. Or maybe even yes. But I focus on the good-for-me answer, the one my brain is screaming, the one I know is right. “No. I don’t.”
Beth rewards me with a hug.
“Well, she didn’t say either way,” Maria tells me. Then she adds, “Sorry, Ruby. I should have asked her that.”
I guess I look pretty pathetic, all glum and hunched over, clinging to the swing like a little kid. Beth steps on the toes of my sneakers. She takes my hands and shakes out my arms. Then, tipping her weight back, she pulls me up off the swing. “I’d be a pretty terrible friend if we didn’t have some fun tonight. So let’s get to it already and put all this behind you for good.”
We make the best of our final hour. We freeze-dance in the headlights while Katherine mans the car stereo. We prank everyone in Maria’s phone. Gifts are given. Beth has knitted me a skinny, gray wool scarf with butter-yellow ribbons laced through the stitches. It’s instantly the prettiest thing I own. Maria has bought me an old Cooper Rubber T-shirt from Revival, our town’s vintage resale