Page 29 of The Fadeaway

“You owe me nothing, but you owe yourself and your children a solid night of sleep. I’ll wrap until my fingers go numb, and if I don’t get it all done, I’ll hide the rest for you to finish after I’m gone. I promise.”

Carmela looked so grateful that she might have collapsed right there. “Thank you,” she said, opening her arms to Patty, who pulled her close for a tight squeeze. “For everything.”

Patty let her go and gave her a gentle shove towards the bedroom. “I want to hear nothing from that room but loud snoring, got it?”

Carmela lifted a hand and drifted to her room, stopping to peek into the kids’ rooms as she did.

Once everything was quiet, Patty poured herself a small glass of wine, turned the holiday jazz up a notch, and sat down by the lights of the Christmas tree to get to work.

She wrapped until she could hardly keep her eyes open, humming along to all of the familiar holiday songs on the radio. By the time she pulled the heavy duvet over her on the couch, there was a mountain of wrapped gifts beneath the twinkling lights of the tree. It was going to be some Christmas for Carmela and her kids, and Patty fell asleep smiling at the thought of them unwrapping everything in their pajamas on Christmas morning.

She left on the midday train the next day and made it to D.C. by cocktail hour. The White House was decked out in every sort of decoration imaginable, and Patty had a well-appointed guest room with fresh towels and heated bathroom floors all to herself. Her room even had its own little Christmas tree, decorated in tasteful golds and reds. It certainly didn’t compare to sleeping on a couch and being awoken at dawn to turn on the Disney Channel for three little rapscallions, and while the experience of spending Christmas in the capitol as the guest of the President and First Lady was certainly special and unique, there was a tiny piece of Patty that wished she was sitting on a couch in New York, watching Carmela’s kids tear into imperfectly wrapped gifts while she sipped coffee from a chipped NYPD mug.

It was the first time that Patty truly realized how much capacity her own heart held for love, for family, for giving. Now that she’d found it, she never wanted to let that feeling go. In fact, she wanted to blow the doors off her life and give to everyone around her. She wanted to quietly be someone to everybody she knew, and not for the accolades or the gratitude, but for the way it made her feel.

Never again in Patty’s life would she just be a retired lawyer whose daughter was the First Lady; from that point on, she was going to be a giver, a nurturer, and a source of hope for the people around her. For the rest of her days, she’d give other people the kind of hope, love, and guidance that Bradley’s parents had given to her. Patty would make sure that no one in her sphere suffered or went without. It became her life’s mission to give and give until she fell into bed at night, exhausted, depleted, and filled with joy.

Ruby

True to her word, Ruby slips out of Dexter’s apartment before dawn, leaving him with a lingering kiss and no words. He texts her while she’s in the Uber that’s taking her back to her hotel, and his words are few and sweet:Let me meet you before you leave New York. Please.

Ruby sets the phone in her lap and looks out the window at the gray, rainy morning. It’s Wednesday, and people hurry along the sidewalks in overcoats. Most of them are carrying briefcases and clutching the ubiquitous accessory of the office worker on a mission: a paper cup of coffee to go.

She knows that meeting Dexter is inviting complication into her life during a time when she can scarcely afford to do so, but it seems wrong to have spent the night with him and left without a proper goodbye, so Ruby gives in.

There’s a cafe in the lobby of my hotel. I’ll meet you there at six o’clock. My flight is at nine.

Banks is awake and ready for the day when Ruby calls his room, and he agrees to knock on her door in one hour, giving her time to shower and drink a whole pot of coffee while she gets ready.

“Shall we?” Banks asks, looking Ruby up and down when she finally opens the door to her hotel room. She’s tired from the short night of sleep, but wired from the coffee, and she smiles distractedly.

“Come in,” Ruby says. She’s moving around the room, picking things up from the bedside table and shoving them into her crossbody purse. She’s dressed in a pair of black leather pants, a black hip-length wool coat, and a black cashmere turtleneck with black ankle boots.

“Who died?” Banks nods at her outfit.

“It’s New York, Banks. Black is never wrong.” Ruby tosses a tube of lipstick into her purse, zips it up, and puts the strap over her head. “Let’s roll.”

When they get to the Graham Academy in Brooklyn, Carmela is already waiting outside, smiling and laughing as she chats with two other mothers who have clearly just dropped their children off for the day. Ruby admires the carefree, assured way that the women all stand around in their yoga pants and puffer jackets, hair slicked back, Ugg boots on their feet. They seem to know exactly who they are and what their day will consist of. They wave goodbye to Carmela as Ruby watches, and she notices that Carmela is not dressed in the uniform of a School Drop-off Mom, but rather in a black floral dress with knee-high brown leather boots and a matching leather jacket. She has her makeup on, and she raises a hand in greeting as Ruby and Banks step out of the car.

“Carmela,” Ruby says, approaching her and giving her a light hug. “This is Banks. Officially he’s my Secret Service agent, but he’s been living on Shipwreck Key as long as I have, and the nature of our relationship has shifted a little.” Ruby is looking at Banks as she says this, and he keeps a steady, calm smile on his face. “Banks, this is Carmela. She and her children were close friends of my mother’s.”

Carmela offers a hand to shake, and as she does, she glances at Ruby like so many people do. “Oh, shoot. Can we shake hands?” she asks, wincing as he takes her much smaller hand in his. “I don’t know about the protocol here. My bad.”

“Protocol is fluid at this point,” Banks says, giving her a reassuring nod. “Trust me. Ruby and I have made our own rules.”

Ruby is aware as she watches them that perhaps Carmela is thinking that she and Banks have a much closer, much morepersonalrelationship than that of First Lady and Secret Service agent, and she has no idea why she wants Carmela to know the truth, but something in her pushes her to speak up. “When Banks started dating my best friend, we basically decided to throw out the rule book altogether,” she says with a laugh.

Carmela’s appraising look changes. “Gotcha,” she says, putting her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. Her long, auburn hair is full and wavy and it hangs halfway down her back. “Shall we go in and have a look around? The kids should already be in their classes.”

Ruby smiles and nods. “Absolutely.” She’s decided that she’ll go wherever this day takes her, and that her mother would clearly want her to get to know Carmela and the kids, to see and to understand why she herself had gotten so involved with these people who, to Ruby at least, are perfect strangers. “Lead the way.”

Inside the Graham Academy, everything gleams as if it has been recently polished. The wooden floors look newly finished, the water fountains have no fingerprints, and the walls look as though they’ve recently received a fresh coat of paint. The overall effect is one of pride, of competence, and of seriousness. The interior says “We care about education and making a solid impression,” not “We’ll take your tuition money and buy expensive office furniture.”

Ruby looks around as they walk, their footsteps echoing through the empty halls. “This is very impressive,” she says. “I’m sure my mother would have loved it.”

“She did,” Carmela confirms, opening a door and guiding Ruby into the main office. “Let’s check in with the principal, and then I have free reign to show you around and take you wherever you want to go.”

Ruby frowns. “Is that okay?” she whispers. “In this day and age, are strangers allowed to roam around a school unsupervised?”

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