Page 30 of The Fadeaway

Carmela leans in closer to Ruby and whispers back, her face pulled into a mask of mock-seriousness. “People know you, Ruby. You’re not a stranger. And I’m guessing that Banks has a fairly high level of clearance himself.”

Ruby blushes; she’s forgotten once again that she will be recognized wherever she goes. It’s been easy to do that since moving to Shipwreck Key, and in a way, it’s been a huge blessing for Ruby to just be able to blend back into the world around her—at least in her mind, if not in reality.

Once they all have lime green Visitor badges affixed to their chests, Carmela leads Ruby and Banks to the science lab, where Marcos and the other sixth-graders are intently formulating a compound and taking serious notes on their progress. When he spots them, Marcos gives them a lopsided smile and a wave, then goes back to measuring and working with his lab partners.

“Our science department has graduated kids who’ve gone on to top medical programs around the world, and each year for the past decade we’ve won national awards for our cutting-edge scientific research and projects.” Carmela leads them over to a modest trophy case that holds various plaques and statues, pointing at a gold figure of a girl holding a beaker in one hand. “We have an extremely strong and active Women in STEM program, and the majority of our female students participate inSTEM classes and projects at some point during their academic career at Graham,” Carmela says proudly. She glances back at her son, who is hard at work on his lab work. “Marcos wants to become a doctor and find a cure for dementia.” Her eyes grow misty as she watches him. “My dad was diagnosed five years ago and died in the spring. I think it really affected Marcos.”

Ruby blinks in surprise. “Your dad had dementia? So did my grandfather—Patty’s dad. He died when I was in my thirties.”

Carmela smiles sadly as she meets Ruby’s eye. “I know. It was yet another thing that Patty and I had in common. When my dad got sick, she was right there by my side, offering words of wisdom and comfort. She knew what questions to ask the doctors, and what kind of help I should be offering my mom.”

Of course she would have done all that, Ruby thinks. Patty had clearly spent a lot of time and energy on this friendship, and rather than thinking it strange that her mother’s closest friend had been a woman younger than Ruby, it’s starting to make sense how they’d fit together and supported one another.

Ruby pulls herself together and focuses. “And how is your mom?” she asks, still watching Carmela’s face.

“She’s still living in their house in Puerto Rico. She’s come to visit a couple of times, but I can’t convince her to move to New York. Too busy. Bad weather. Her friends are there.” Carmela waves a hand through the air. “But it’s fine. As long as she’s healthy and doing her thing there, I can keep my own life afloat here.”

They move on to the special education wing of the building, where kids are in blended classes of students with higher levels of need and those who are functioning at their academic level. There is a room for nonverbal autistic students, and they find Felix in there, building a tower out of blocks of every size and color.

“Hi, baby,” Carmela says, sinking to her knees in front of her son. “How is your day?”

Felix doesn’t look at her directly, but it’s clear from the look on his face that he hears and senses his mother’s presence. A smile spreads across his round cheeks and he proudly stacks three more blocks.

“This is where Felix spends a fair amount of time,” Carmela says. “Graham Academy has one of the strongest and most inclusive programs for autistic students, and he’s really grown here. I can’t even imagine where he’d be educationally if he wasn’t here.”

They look around the space, admiring the student artwork that hangs on the walls, and they stop to have a conversation with one of the teachers who asks very shyly and politely if she can get a picture with Ruby.

After posing for the photo, they move on to the gym, where Valeria’s second grade class is playing volleyball over a lowered net. The kids don’t seem to notice—or care—that the former First Lady is watching them, but Valeria waves excitedly with both hands, jumping up and down with glee as she steps up to serve while her mother watches. Every child in the gym is dressed neatly in navy blue shorts and white polo shirts, and Ruby notices that they take turns and speak in kind voices to one another.

“When your child is accepted to Graham,” Carmela says, leaning slightly in Ruby’s direction, “you’re required to sign an agreement about electronics. Children are not to be sent to school with phones or Apple watches, and if they are, parents agree that they office can confiscate them for the day and lock them up. There’s a zero-tolerance policy for breaking rules, as Graham Academy is strongly based on the idea that kidsdoneed to be able to foster creativity and independence, but also that they need to learn how to function in society. One of thebasic tenets of this school is that we’ve moved too far away from a community-based society and too much in the direction of individuality, which leaves us disconnected from one another and unable or unwilling to work together to improveallof our lives. I stand by that wholeheartedly.”

“I’m impressed,” Ruby says, watching as Valeria spikes the ball. She’s focused on the game, but still beams at them every minute or so. “I’ve seen a lot of schools and toured a lot of educational programs, but this school has very high standards.”

“Your mother helped me get the kids in here,” Carmela says, her eyes on her daughter as she changes positions on the court. “She could sense that my life was falling apart at the seams, and she said the first thing I needed to do was to make sure that my kids were on the right path. And she was absolutely correct. As soon as I had things moving forward for them, I was able to work on myself.”

Carmela leads them out of the gym and towards the front of the school again. “If you have the time, Ruby, I’d love to take you to my office.”

“I’m at your disposal today,” Ruby says with a smile. She’s feeling a little rundown, but she knows that’s her own fault for staying with Dexter all night, and she’s determined to muster as much energy as it takes to get to know Carmela.

It’s a short taxi ride to an office building with a plain brick exterior. Inside, a bank of elevators greets them and Carmela ushers them to the fourth floor.

“Welcome to Hibiscus,” Carmela says, opening a glass door that’s emblazoned with a white hibiscus flower. “It’s really a women’s legal aid program, but your mom and I thought Hibiscus was a prettier name for it to go by than Women’s Legal Aid.”

Ruby frowns as they stand in the middle of a fairly nondescript lobby. She suddenly remembers the blown glasshibiscus flower she’d found in her mother’s house in Santa Barbara. “Why hibiscus?”

“It’s the national flower of Puerto Rico.” Carmela smiles. “Come on, let me show you around.”

Banks takes a seat in the lobby as Ruby follows Carmela through a maze of hallways and they stop to greet several people. Ruby shakes hands with them all, and a picture of what Hibiscus has to do with her mother grows clearer with each interaction.

“Patty Dallarosa was our hero,” a woman with a tight, black bun at the nape of her neck says. She wears no makeup, but giant gold hoop earrings. “She started the whole program with Carmela as a way for women in need to get free legal advice and assistance.”

Ruby looks around, taking in the black and white photos of laughing children that hang on the walls. “My mother did this?”

The woman with the black bun looks at her disbelievingly. “She never told you about this place?” She rears back slightly, looking shocked. “Huh. She was very proud of Hibiscus. Threw a number of fundraisers in New York over the past few years—even when she got sick.”

Ruby shakes her head slowly. “No,” she says. “She didn’t tell me. I don’t know why…this is very impressive. I’m so proud of her.”

The woman with the bun shrugs. “She always said that women with children needed so much more than society gave them. Support, assistance, and protection. One of our most vulnerable populations are women who have kids to feed. They get desperate. They make legal concessions to the men in their lives that do not benefit them or their children. Patty wanted to fix that.”

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