Read Online A Soft Place to Land by Susan Rebecca White - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Rebecca White
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Julia’s room to see what might be new. There were the two pink lamps attached to the wall, each decorated with a pink metal bow below a white shade. Dangling from the arm of the lamp closest to the door was a card with the Playboy bunny symbol printed on it. There was the antique sleigh bed that had cost Phil a fortune and that Ruthie and Julia once broke by doing flying somersaults on top of the mattress. There were the posters of Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix that Naomi had forbidden Julia to hang—for fear of messing up the paint—but that Julia had hung anyway.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” asked Ruthie.
Julia pointed to her ear, which was covered by her auburn hair.
“I don’t see anything,” said Ruthie.
Julia lifted her hair, holding it away from her face in a ponytail, her hand the rubber band. In addition to the dangly beaded earring Julia wore, there was a safety pin stuck through the middle of her lobe. Bits of dried blood crusted around the needle of the pin.
“Ew,” said Ruthie.
“Shut up. It’s cool,” said Julia. “Want me to do it to you? You just have to ice down the ear and then stick the pin in real fast. You’ll barely feel it.”
“I think it’s against Coventry’s dress code,” said Ruthie.
She wasn’t joking, but Julia responded as if she were.
“Ha. Very funny. Come on. We’ll be the only two people in the world who have them.”
“But it’s ugly,” said Ruthie. “And it looks like it really hurt.”
“No pain, no gain,” said Julia, quoting her least favorite PE teacher, a petite blond woman who favored all of the popular kids and was always eager to jump in with stories about her days as a Theta at UGA.
Ruthie looked out the window, saw Matt’s white Ford Taurus pulling into the front drive. “They’re here,” she said.
“Oh fuck,” said her sister. “Time for our execution.”
Ruthie knew what the will would say. Julia had told her. Still it was shocking to hear the words read aloud, shocking to hear the lawyer John Henry Parker decree that the girls would be split up: Julia to live with Matt and Peggy in Virden, Ruthie to live with Mimi and Robert in San Francisco. It was like a harsh sentence being handed down at a trial, though no one had yet been found guilty.
Chapter Three
Though Ruthie had been warned, she was still shocked that she and Julia really were going to be separated. A date had even been set, June 10, a week after Coventry let out for summer break. Peggy, Matt, and Sam would drive down from Virden the day before. Early the next morning, they would load all of Julia’s belongings into their minivan and Julia would follow them back to Virginia in her Saab 900. Two days later, Mimi and Ruthie would board a plane that would take them to San Francisco.
Until then, Mimi would stay with the girls in Atlanta, supervising them as well as the sale of the Wymberly Way house. She would let her husband, Robert, take care of things at home, while her business partner, Marc, handled the interior design needs of wealthy San Franciscans.
It had been a week since the will was read. Ruthie and Julia were in bed in Julia’s room whispering in the dark. Before the accident it had been a special treat for Julia to allow Ruthie in her bed, but now the girls almost always slept together. They lay on their backs, a printed cotton sheet, soft from years of washing, pulled up to their necks, the blanket and comforter in a messy pile by their feet.
“I mean, I like Aunt Mimi,” said Ruthie. “A lot. But I don’treally know her. And now I’m supposed to move all the way to California and live with her and Uncle Robert? I just don’t understand. What were Mom and Dad thinking?”
“They weren’t,” said Julia. “Do you think Phil ever believed—for a moment—that he could possibly die before he reached, I don’t know, age ninety-five?”
She was right. Phil had always expressed extreme confidence in his longevity. It had something
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” asked Ruthie.
Julia pointed to her ear, which was covered by her auburn hair.
“I don’t see anything,” said Ruthie.
Julia lifted her hair, holding it away from her face in a ponytail, her hand the rubber band. In addition to the dangly beaded earring Julia wore, there was a safety pin stuck through the middle of her lobe. Bits of dried blood crusted around the needle of the pin.
“Ew,” said Ruthie.
“Shut up. It’s cool,” said Julia. “Want me to do it to you? You just have to ice down the ear and then stick the pin in real fast. You’ll barely feel it.”
“I think it’s against Coventry’s dress code,” said Ruthie.
She wasn’t joking, but Julia responded as if she were.
“Ha. Very funny. Come on. We’ll be the only two people in the world who have them.”
“But it’s ugly,” said Ruthie. “And it looks like it really hurt.”
“No pain, no gain,” said Julia, quoting her least favorite PE teacher, a petite blond woman who favored all of the popular kids and was always eager to jump in with stories about her days as a Theta at UGA.
Ruthie looked out the window, saw Matt’s white Ford Taurus pulling into the front drive. “They’re here,” she said.
“Oh fuck,” said her sister. “Time for our execution.”
Ruthie knew what the will would say. Julia had told her. Still it was shocking to hear the words read aloud, shocking to hear the lawyer John Henry Parker decree that the girls would be split up: Julia to live with Matt and Peggy in Virden, Ruthie to live with Mimi and Robert in San Francisco. It was like a harsh sentence being handed down at a trial, though no one had yet been found guilty.
Chapter Three
Though Ruthie had been warned, she was still shocked that she and Julia really were going to be separated. A date had even been set, June 10, a week after Coventry let out for summer break. Peggy, Matt, and Sam would drive down from Virden the day before. Early the next morning, they would load all of Julia’s belongings into their minivan and Julia would follow them back to Virginia in her Saab 900. Two days later, Mimi and Ruthie would board a plane that would take them to San Francisco.
Until then, Mimi would stay with the girls in Atlanta, supervising them as well as the sale of the Wymberly Way house. She would let her husband, Robert, take care of things at home, while her business partner, Marc, handled the interior design needs of wealthy San Franciscans.
It had been a week since the will was read. Ruthie and Julia were in bed in Julia’s room whispering in the dark. Before the accident it had been a special treat for Julia to allow Ruthie in her bed, but now the girls almost always slept together. They lay on their backs, a printed cotton sheet, soft from years of washing, pulled up to their necks, the blanket and comforter in a messy pile by their feet.
“I mean, I like Aunt Mimi,” said Ruthie. “A lot. But I don’treally know her. And now I’m supposed to move all the way to California and live with her and Uncle Robert? I just don’t understand. What were Mom and Dad thinking?”
“They weren’t,” said Julia. “Do you think Phil ever believed—for a moment—that he could possibly die before he reached, I don’t know, age ninety-five?”
She was right. Phil had always expressed extreme confidence in his longevity. It had something
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