Unexpected Reunion. Carolyn Greene

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СКАЧАТЬ hats back to Gleanings, where she displayed them on the Peg-Board wall behind her counter. Then she pulled out the box she’d been sorting just before Gray’s unexpected arrival yesterday. Tucked between an early transistor radio and a pair of binoculars was the pair of kissing dolls...right where she’d left them.

      She frowned, remembering the conversation she’d had with Paisley this morning. How could Paisley have sold the dolls if they were still here?

      * * *

      Three times in two days. This was more than Gray had seen Ruthie over the past four years. And it was taking a toll on him.

      Sleep had eluded him last night while he worried about Naoko. When he did sleep, his dreams had been filled with images of Ruthie. The way her hands fluttered like a butterfly without a road map whenever she talked. That soft reddish-brown hair that begged him to touch it. And the hazel eyes that telegraphed every emotion that crossed her heart.

      He found her at the rear of the shop, her back turned to him while she focused her attention on straightening a three-foot-wide metal disc on the wall, and he took advantage of her distraction to study her.

      She wore slim khaki pants topped by a pale green shirt that made her hair seem more red than brown. Her movements were more confident now than four years ago, possibly the result of proving herself to be an accomplished businesswoman. Ruthie had always been a hard worker. And her devotion had obviously paid off, judging by the shoppers milling around him who exclaimed to their friends over the items they discovered.

      It must have been hard for her, losing her mother in the middle of her teen years. Though Ruthie had never said anything against her stepfather, Gray had picked up from his grandparents’ conversations that when the new widower spent a Saturday packing the house to move him and his biological daughter back to New Jersey, the man had turned to Ruthie and asked, “Where are you going to live?”

      At church the following day, Naoko had noticed Ruthie’s tears after silent prayer time. Until that day, their relationship had consisted mostly of friendly hellos. His grandmother couldn’t stand to see anyone hurting, so she’d pulled Ruthie aside and learned that the girl’s only blood relatives—a chronically ill aunt and a cousin with a drug problem—could not take her in. With nowhere else to turn, her only other option was foster care.

      In less than twenty-four hours, his grandparents had moved her into their house and applied to become Ruthie’s legal guardians. How could someone hurt her like that? And then it hit him. He had hurt her like that. He had rejected her, just like her family. The thought threatened to rip him apart. Of course, he’d done it to protect her. Somehow he doubted she saw it that way.

      Ruthie stepped away from hanging the oversize replica of an antique coin and appeared to notice him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled and turned to greet him. Gray smiled back, hoping his guilt didn’t bleed through his expression. When her gaze fully met his, the smile dissipated. Or maybe she caught some hint of what he’d been feeling.

      “I just spoke with Sobo,” she said, as if clearing off that reason for his sudden reappearance. “She’s not crazy about the hospital food.”

      “Maybe it needs soy sauce,” he joked. “It’s good she feels well enough to want to eat.”

      Ruthie nodded agreement and waited. He sensed her unspoken question. Why have you come back?

      “There was a doll,” he said, getting to the point. “It had been in the box with Pop’s military stuff.” He drew a deep breath, hoping they might find it in one of the cartons they hadn’t searched earlier today. “Sobo needs it. Pop said it has special meaning for her.”

      Ruthie relaxed her guarded stance, pulled her ponytail loose, then refashioned it. “Good news. It wasn’t sold after all.” With a tilt of her head, she added, “I wasn’t aware it meant so much to her. She always said she didn’t like ranzatsu.”

      Her easy pronunciation of the Japanese word for clutter drew a spontaneous grin from him. Relieved she still had the doll in her possession, he hoped this would be the last time he would need to come back for a while. Although they had called a truce and would no longer need to avoid each other at family gatherings, he thought it best to ease back into contact with her. And preferably with his grandparents around to act as a buffer.

      “Well, clutter is the last thing she’d call this doll. It’s the only thing she has left from her childhood.”

      “No problem. They’re right over here.”

      They? He followed her to the counter where most of the boxes had been emptied and set aside for later use. Pop had mentioned only one doll.

      “Did the table fit?” She set a small cardboard box on the counter and reached inside.

      “Like it was designed for the house.” It looked great in the corner of his kitchen, but he still wondered at the impulse that had driven him to buy it. Now he’d think of Ruthie every morning at breakfast...and remember the look of mischief on her face and the touch of her bare toes against his foot.

      She handed him a pair of porcelain dolls, their lips puckered for a kiss.

      He turned them over in his hands and stared at them, remembering the time early in their relationship when their own actions mimicked the dolls’. Drawing his and Ruthie’s features on them had provided the perfect opener for their first kiss. And many more after that.

      “What happened to the freckles?”

      She flashed him another of her sassy grins. “Foundation makeup. It covers a lot of flaws.”

      He knew she was joking, but the comment drew his attention to her face. The cute little specks were still there, but much lighter now, and he couldn’t help wondering if there were still twenty-nine. Somehow he doubted she’d let him count them. Perhaps spending less time in the sun had allowed them to fade. He hoped she wasn’t trying to cover them with makeup.

      She ducked her head and looked away under his scrutiny. He hadn’t meant to bring out her shyness, but he couldn’t let her put herself down, even if only in jest.

      “I don’t consider freckles flaws,” he said, and idly ran a thumb over the girl doll’s puckered face.

      Mirroring his gesture, Ruthie lifted a hand to her face, then immediately slid her hand into her slacks pocket.

      “Right. They’re kiss prints,” she said, automatically parroting back the words he used to tell her.

      She looked uncomfortable, as if realizing she’d opened a door that led someplace they weren’t supposed to go. “I’m sure Sobo will be glad to get this set back,” she said, abruptly changing the subject.

      Gray shook his head. “This isn’t the doll I’m looking for. The one I’m talking about is the size of a Barbie and has real hair and a red kimono.”

      Ruthie sagged against the counter. “Oh, no.”

      “Oh, no?” He clutched the porcelain dolls tighter. “What does ‘oh, no’ mean?”

      “That must have been the doll that was sold. I thought Paisley meant these.”

      She looked sick, and that was the way Gray felt right now.

      “You sold it?”

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