Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 104.2: 1995, Ruiz

Chapter 104.2: 1995, Ruiz

"She can't do that, Ruiz. She can't do that!"

Ambrose was looking mutinous behind one of the large cookies he'd saved from his lunch for us. A beautiful, overly soft chocolate chunk cookie. I was holding one myself, and the chunks under my fingers were slowly melting in a gooey mess, mixing with a cold sweat, but I didn't care. Because my eyes were watering.

He was saying exactly what I thought he'd say, and it was making me cry. I was sorry, but it was. I didn't want to cry in front of him, having told myself I wouldn't, but it wasn't because I was sad. Or was it? I couldn't tell. I just knew his face, his wide open mouth looking just like as I had imagined it yesterday in the kitchen when I had been on the phone with my Mama.

The cookie in my hand slowly went towards my mouth as I looked down at it, with no intention of taking a bite. My grape soda next to my arm was not even open. I'd told him exactly what was going on as soon as we'd sat down on the hard metal bench of this table in the cafeteria.

He'd known I was disturbed anyway. He always knew, somehow.

I watched him place what was left of his cookie on the table, protected by its plastic wrap. Gently, he took the wrist of the hand that was holding my hardly touched cookie. I watched him raise it just slightly, and kiss the inside of my wrist so softly and lovingly. He was staring at me expectantly, but I knew he didn't expect me to say anything else.

He'd just noticed how wet my eyes were. I could tell.

"I'm sorry, Ruiz, but I don't think you should go. I know your cousins want to see you. I know you're going to tell me that. But is it worth it?"

I already knew the answer. Sort of. But I didn't want to admit it. These words from my heart.

"I don't know if its worth it." So small.

"Its not worth it, Ruiz. Just wait 'til next Tuesday. I'll be out of this place. We can go do something fun instead. We can go to the arcade and eat some Easter candy or something. Make our own Easter. You don't need them. Hey, I know. I'll buy you a basket from CVS or something, or the grocery store. I'll get you your own Easter basket. You don't need them. I'm serious, Ruiz. Its not worth it."

"Its not about an Easter basket." Somehow with him here I was feeling vulnerable. At a loss. Feelings building up or had been built up, coming out. My breath skipped and my hand was on my face, covering up to my forehead, my whole face.

"Ruiz." So gentle. I could feel his warmth on my wrist, the pressure of his precious hand. My mouth was watering from the chocolate on my tongue, from when I'd taken the single bite of cookie in my hand.

"Yeah." I sniffled. Oh no.

"Don't cry. I don't think you should go there. I mean it."

I mean it. My Mama had struggled for the words, for what she'd really meant on the phone. Telling me... It had taken me a little bit last night to really put together what she'd meant. But Ambrose had gotten it right away, and met it with anger, disbelief.

"Why would she say that?" Small words again.

I heard his throat hesitate as he began to speak. Probably not getting what I meant out of nowhere. I didn't blame him. But he corrected himself anyway.

"Because she doesn't want you to dress like yourself in front of those kids."

"Oh- oh..." My breath hitched again.