Back to Madeline Island by Jay Gilbertson Read Free Book Online Page B

pint-sized, puffed-out chest. I move a bit closer; he hesitates and then zips up and away toward the boathouse.
    Funny how nature can pull you into the right place at times. This wind in my hair, these crispy leaves and the smell of fall, all damp and getting ready to go sleep. Madeline Island with its mossy meadows and woods that give way to gentle knolls crowned with silver birches and poplar trees. I love the white pine avenues that lead to hidden cottages like this one. It’s really such a wild place with a touch of mystery and a sky that goes on and on. Here, I’ve found so much—and now Helen.
    I’m so grateful she turned out to be far more than the image I’ve kept in my heart all these years. She’s so much bigger and brighter and, well, she of course has my perfect nose, too. I’m obsessing about her parts that resemble mine, but I’ve got thirty years of not seeing those things to make up for, so give me a break here. But I can see her dad, too. Won’t be long until Helen will want to know about him, too. Oh boy.
    â€œWell, here you are, darling,” Ruby puffs out. “Wasn’t sure if you wanted company or not, but then the strangest thing happened.” She flips her shawl over a shoulder for dramatic pause.
    At which point I dramatically ask. “Ruby— do tell.” She smacks me on the arm, raises her chin a bit.
    â€œA red cardinal had come tapping on the screen door over at the boathouse. I was afraid Rocky would investigate and wanted to shoo the would-be snack away. Well, when I came to the door, he flew off this way and I spied you .”
    â€œI think we have company.”
    Rocky meows a “hello” and rubs against my leg.
    â€œOh, look who’s here.” Ruby reaches down to pick him up—he scurries away. “I forget. He never wants to be carried around by humans out-of-doors. Doesn’t want any fellow creatures to think he’s a sissy or any such rubbish. Really, men are all alike, aren’t they?”
    â€œYes, I suppose they are. Hey—aren’t you going to ask me how my lunch went?”
    â€œI’m practically bursting, but always the polite one.”
    â€œAlways?”
    â€œOh, for heaven’s sake—spill the beans and be snappy about it—I want all the details and don’t leave a single thing out!”
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    A log snaps and crackles, shooting sparks this way and that. A red-hot coal leaps out of the fireplace, landing on the hearth. It sits there—throbbing with life. I jump up from the sofa and sweep it back into the fire. Dean Martin croons softly in the background.
    â€œWhat an adventure you’ve had,” Ruby remarks, adding just a dollop of cognac to our tea. “Here, drink this, darling.”
    â€œSipping from these fancy teacups,” I say, softly replacing my cup into its lily-pad-shaped saucer, “makes me feel like I’m playing tea party .”
    â€œGood. Now let’s get back to you and Helen. What are your plans—now that you’ve met and seen her—she’s, let’s see if I can recall all this correctly: not a convicted murderer on death row with four illegitimate children, not a lipstick lesbian, not a lazy moocher living on welfare, not married to a Baptist with five children and twelve grandchildren and not—God forbid the thought—a hairstylist. How’d I do?”
    â€œYou forgot about the transsexual.”
    â€œQuite right,” Ruby states, pulling her afghan closer around her tiny shoulders. “Do you think we should throw a little soirée for her? Nothing fancy, of course. Invite the boys over; she could bring her boyfriend, Ryan.”
    â€œHey, slow down here. I don’t want to scare her off or anything. I mean, we just met and we need to—you know—get to know each other. It’s so weird, I feel like I should know everything about her, but I don’t. I don’t know a