Free Seasons of Her Life by Fern Michaels Page B

her weekly wardrobe, and mapping out the way to the Pentagon, but that was pretty much a waste of time, as she would be moving in another week.
    Ruby opened the window. Hot, humid air, thick as soup, rushed into the room. She closed the window just as fat raindrops began to fall. The leaves weren’t moving. Her grandmother always said if you could see the underside of the leaves, there would be a storm, and that if rain fell in fat drops, it wouldn’t last. Ruby crossed her fingers.
    By the time she dressed and brushed her hair the rain had lessened and faint streaks of sunshine could be seen. She sighed happily. Somebody must be watching over her. Sunshine was important for this particular day.
    Over a breakfast of coffee, juice, and toast at the Hot Shoppe, Ruby ran over the dialogue she would have with Amber on her return. Lie or not to lie? It all depended on Amber’s mood. She dawdled over a second cup of coffee until it was nine-fifteen. Amber always got up at nine on weekends.
    â€œYou’d better not give me any grief, Amber,” she muttered as she made her way back to the Y.
    Ruby spotted her sister in a local coffee shop. She was alone with a copy of Redbook open in front of her. Amber looked up as Ruby came to her booth.
    â€œYou aren’t going to spoil my day, are you, Ruby?” she snapped.
    â€œNo. You don’t mind if I go to the zoo this afternoon, do you? And to the park for a picnic. Nola gave me this great basket.”
    Amber waited a long moment before she replied. When she spoke, she barely moved her lips. “Are you going with your friend?” The word friend sounded obscene coming from Amber.
    Ruby nodded.
    â€œYou’ll be back around suppertime?”
    It was a question Ruby wasn’t prepared for. She shrugged.
    â€œIs that a yes or no?” Amber asked.
    â€œI thought about going to the movies, the early show; it lets out around nine. The African Queen is supposed to be good. I can’t get into any trouble at the movies, Amber.”
    Amber debated another full minute. The zoo was okay, a picnic was okay, and the movie ... “You should start to make other friends. I told you before, I don’t like that skinny girl.”
    Here it comes, Ruby thought. She waited.
    â€œWhen we move to Mount Pleasant, I don’t want to see you palling around with her.”
    Ruby would have agreed to anything just to get out of Amber’s sight. She hadn’t had to lie outright, either, which had to mean Amber had plans of her own. From the looks of things, Andrew Blue was going to give her more than one alibi.
    How was she ever going to juggle things to keep everyone happy? Ruby made a mental note to start writing things down, and that thought reminded her to write to Opal and her grandmother.
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    Ruby left the Y at eleven o’clock to stop at a deli on Ninth Street, where she filled Nola’s sewing basket with a delectable lunch. She dropped the two letters she’d written in a mailbox on the way. She’d planned on walking to the zoo, but the basket was heavier than she anticipated, so she turned right on Connecticut Avenue and boarded the trolley that would leave her off at Woodley Road and the entrance to the zoo.
    She felt wonderful. The sun was definitely out now, the sky a rich blue with marshmallow clouds. She looked good, too, she thought, in her pink-and-blue plaid playsuit. Nola had sewn inch-wide white rick-rack around the legs, the collar, and pockets to give the outfit a touch of what she called Rubyism. She’d even lent Ruby her white sandals, which she’d polished till they looked almost new, and two combs for her hair.
    Ruby craned her neck over the visiting throngs of tourists, parents, toddlers, and infants in buggies. Ahead she could hear the tinny music of an organ grinder. Thick, earthy, musty smells assaulted her as she searched for a bench. She wished she had sunglasses.
    After what seemed a long time