Page 39 of Nash
"She can handle herself," I say.
Ruby holds my gaze for a beat. Whatever she's looking for, she doesn't find it. She turns back to the table.
Lawrence's hand has stopped on his burger. The grip loosens, tightens, loosens again. He takes a bite. Sets it down. Picks up his water and drinks with the kind of precision that has nothing to do with thirst.
My jaw sets.
"Sounds intense," Raine says. "Is she safe? Fighting like that?"
"She's tough," Ruby says, but her eyes flick to me one more time before she answers her mother.
Lawrence's hand rests on the table. His fingers are too still. His posture too controlled. A man who heard a name that landed somewhere he didn't expect.
Later, when the table has scattered and Ruby is helping Maggie clear plates, I step beside her.
"You okay?"
She glances at me. "I'm always okay."
"Ruby."
She sets a stack of plates down. Her jaw works once.
"Candace didn't have this." Her voice is quiet. "She didn't have parents who showed up with banana pudding and labeled containers. Darla didn't either. Sloane's dad manipulated her until she wasn't useful anymore, and she had to run before it got worse." She looks at me. "And I'm sitting there with both of mine, complaining about khaki creases, while my best friend grew up with a father who tried to sell her to a trafficking ring."
She picks the plates back up.
"I don't know what to do with that," she says. "I've never known what to do with that."
I hold her gaze. "You don't have to do anything with it. Having good parents isn't something you apologize for."
Her eyes go bright. She blinks. Hard.
"Since when do you talk this much?"
"Since you needed to hear it."
She stares at me. The plates sit between her hands. Then she nods once, turns, and carries them to the kitchen. Her shoulder brushes mine on the way past. My fingers graze her arm as she passes, light, brief.
The visit ends at two. Ruby walks her parents to the Lincoln. Lawrence hugs her longer this time, his chin resting on top of her head. When he releases her, he holds her at arm's length and studies her face.
"Call your mother."
"I call her every day."
"Call her twice." He looks at me over Ruby's shoulder. "Take care of her, Nash."
"Yes, sir."
They pull out. I watch the Lincoln until it disappears past the tree line.
Ruby walks back from the lot and steps up beside me in the doorway. "He likes you," she says.
"He's assessing me."
"That's how he likes people." She tilts her head. "You're a lot alike, actually. It's mildly terrifying."
She goes inside. I stay in the doorway.
