“I should just call the fucker at home. I’ll talk to his wife. Want to bet how quick he calls back then?”
Very bad idea. “I don’t want him to be angry at you, Mama.”
Her mother stopped. “You’re right. He would be. And then he’ll never pick up the phone.” She finished her cigarette, walked over to the sliding door that opened to the balcony, and flicked the butt over the edge. Walking back toward Joey, she said, “I need a distraction. Let’s get out of here. Let’s go see a movie. Anything you want.”
Joey perked up. Going to the movies was a rarity, and it was even rarer for her mother to suggest it. “I’ll check the listings.”
Her mother didn’t respond, so Joey picked up the phone and dialed 777-FILM. The call was answered almost immediately. Hell-O! And welcome to Moviefone …
She listened to that weekend’s movie listings and memorized them, then turned to her mother. “The only PG movie is Batman Returns,” she said, holding her breath. Please please please …
Ruby shrugged. “Fine.”
“It’s opening day, so we might have to pick the tickets up early. There’s a nine o’clock show.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe if we leave soon, I could get the tickets, and then we could have dinner at the diner while we wait?” Joey knew she was pushing her luck.
“Sure.”
Yay. “I can go find your glasses while you take a shower.”
Her mother had not showered in three days.
“All right.”
Impulsively, Joey gave her mother a kiss on the cheek. Ruby reeked of unwashed hair, body odor, and smoke. “Thank you, Mama. You’re the best.”
She was rewarded with a tiny smile.
Forty-five minutes later, Ruby waited in the car in front of the box office while Joey bought two tickets for the nine o’clock show. She skipped back to the car, excited to get to the Jupiter Diner, her favorite restaurant. It had a separate menu just for ice cream, and each of the old-fashioned booths had its own mini jukebox full of 1950s hits. A quarter bought five songs. She already knew what the first one would be: “Rockin’ Robin.” Tweet, tweet … tweedily-dee.
But as they drove away from the theater, she sensed her mother growing agitated once again. When they reached the next intersection, instead of making a left to get to the diner, Ruby suddenly made a right. Joey’s heart sank.
“Mama?”
“I just want to drive by Charles’s house quickly,” her mother said. “He told me he couldn’t meet in person to talk things over because he would be at the cottage with her this weekend. I want to make sure he isn’t lying to me.”
Her always meant Suzanne, Charles’s wife. Joey wasn’t sure why it mattered where Charles was. He’d already dumped her. But there was no point reminding her mother of that. She slumped in her seat. Maybe they wouldn’t have time for the diner, but there was a good chance they could still make the movie.
They headed toward The Kingsway, a neighborhood that was very expensive. Even if Ruby hadn’t told her how much the houses cost, it was obvious that the people who lived here were wealthy. Ruby drove through the lush tree-lined streets while Joey looked out the window at all the big, beautiful homes. What would it take to own a house like that, in a neighborhood like this?
They stopped in front of a gigantic house that, aside from the roof, was made entirely of cream-colored stone. The driveway could fit six cars, but there was only one parked there now. Ruby did not pull in behind it. Instead, she kept her old Mercury Monarch idling at the curb on the opposite side of the street.
“Wow,” Joey breathed, leaning forward to look past her mother. “Charles is really rich.”
“You should see the inside.” Her mother did not look happy. She was fixated on the shiny black Jaguar in the driveway. “He’s home, the motherfucker. I knew he lied to me. I can see him in his office.”
It doesn’t matter. He broke up with you.
Ruby pulled down the sun visor and examined her face in the mirror. “I need more makeup,” she said, passing Joey her purse. “Find my lipstick and eyeliner. See if there’s blush in there, too.” She reached into the glove box and pulled out the travel-size hairbrush she always kept in the car.
Joey rifled through her mother’s handbag and found an old CoverGirl eye pencil and blush, and an old tube of Maybelline Great Lash mascara. Then she dug out a tube of MAC lipstick in “Russian Red,” Ruby’s signature shade. She watched as her mother fixed her face.