Reunion

Ruby approached the book shop nervously. She had never attended an event like this. Her favorite author Marybelle Mortimer was here today to sign copies of her newly released romantic novel, “Passion and Power”. The line already stretched around the corner. Ruby fished her copy out of her handbag. Marybelle’s immaculately made up face smiled at her in soft focus from the back cover, her chin propped on her perfectly manicured hand. The heroine stared defiantly from the front cover, emerald green eyes sparkling under a sweep of blond tresses.

Lost in her thoughts as the line shuffled forward, she accidentally stepped on the heel of the man in front of her.

   “Oh, dear, I am sorry,” she said, bracing herself for an outburst as he turned. He laughed instead.

   “It’s fine. I’m just feeling a bit outnumbered by all these ladies here. Didn’t want to get trampled.”

Ruby glanced up and down the line and saw only one or two other men.

   “You certainly are in the minority,” she said. Her laugh trailed off as the man peered at her intently. She wondered if she had something stuck between her teeth.

   “Is that you, Ruby? Ruby Williams?” he said.

Suddenly, despite his gray hair and wrinkles, she recognized the warm brown eyes and smile that had made her teenage knees go weak all those years ago.

    “Yes, Marty, it’s me, though I’m Ruby Harris now. How many years has it been?”

    “Let’s see, forty or more. I won’t say you haven’t changed a bit, but I knew you at once,” he said. “Wait, that doesn’t sound right. I meant…”

Ruby laughed.

   “I know what you meant. No hurt feelings. You always did manage to put your foot in your mouth. I look my age and that’s okay.”

He suddenly looked serious.

    “I’m sorry for the way I treated you then. You didn’t deserve it. I was a jackass.”

Ruby laughed.

   “You were a teenage boy with hormones and the attention span of a fruit fly. I’ve had plenty of time to get over you. I married Ralph. You remember him?”

    “Not nerdy…” he clamped his hand over his mouth. “Damn, stepped in it again.”

    “Yes, nerdy Ralph, as you jocks liked to call him. He was a kind and gentle soul. He died two years ago. I miss him terribly.”  Her eyes brimmed, and she hastily searched her pockets for a tissue. Marty handed her one.

   “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m glad you were happy. I haven’t done so well in that department myself. Divorced twice.”

Ruby recovered her composure.

    “What are you doing here? This doesn’t seem like your kind of scene,” she said. “Aren’t you a little out of your comfort zone?”

    “I bought the book for my sister’s birthday,” he said, looking around furtively. “I was hoping no one would recognize me. I know I can trust your discretion not to ruin my reputation as a former jock and ladies’ man.”

Ruby glanced at the crowd.

    “I’m trying to be incognito too. I’m hoping my daughter Genevieve doesn’t happen to come by. She doesn’t have a high opinion of her mother’s literary tastes. I have to hide my romance novels under the sofa cushions.”

As if on cue, a tall slender girl with spiky black and pink hair strode up. “Well-behaved Women Seldom Make History” was emblazoned on her t-shirt.

   “Mother, what’s going on?” she said. “What are all these people waiting for?”

Ruby hastily tried to stuff her copy of “Passion and Power” back into her handbag.

Genevieve scoffed disdainfully.

   “Not another bodice ripper. I cannot believe women still read that stuff. It’s full of clichés. You should be helping to smash the patriarchy and empower women, not falling for that sentimental tripe. It’s just escapism. It’ll turn your intellect to mush.”

   “But I like the story and sometimes I want to escape,” Ruby said, withering under Genevieve’s scorn. She never knew what to say when Genevieve got on her high horse. Marty cleared his throat.

   “May I introduce myself? I am Marty Clark, an old friend of your mother’s.”

Genevieve glared at him suspiciously.

   “Don’t tell me you like this drivel too?”

 Ruby gasped, mortified. Marty smiled, quite unfazed.

     “I’m a member of the patriarchy who is trying to reform my overbearing ways.  I would like to understand why so many ladies love these books. I can’t compete in the looks department with the heroes now, of course, but I can certainly learn from the way they win the ladies over. I’d like to know what these fictional men have that we males in the real world lack. And since you don’t care for the genre, you wouldn’t know that the days of swooning damsels waiting for Prince Charming to ride to the rescue are long gone. These ladies kick ass…pardon my language. And let me tell you that your mother doesn’t need any lectures on standing up for herself. She put me in my place a long time ago. She’s never been anyone’s doormat.”

Genevieve stared from him to her mother as if trying to adjust to a new perspective. She took a deep breath as if about to launch into another speech, then thought better of it.

   “Well, sorry, I guess. Didn’t mean to be rude. See you at home, mother.” She nodded at them both and strode off.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Marty and Ruby convulsed with laughter.

   “I’m sorry she was so abrupt. I sometimes feel that Ralph and I were like barnyard fowl who hatched an exotic tropical bird. Much as we love her, we had no idea where she came from. We were always conventional. She’s been fierce since she was a toddler. She wants to reform the world by yesterday,” Ruby said, wiping her eyes again.

Marty smiled.

    “It’s good that she has passion. She’ll learn to use it positively. I hope I’m an example of how youth can mature eventually. This line doesn’t seem to be moving. Maybe Marybelle’s got writers’ cramp signing all these books. Speaking of clichés, why don’t we blow this joint and continue the conversation over a drink in comfort?”

Ruby smiled at him.

   “I’d like that. Lead on, Sir Galahad.”