Amy stood and left the room.
Gwen didn’t have time to wonder what else was really going on with her sister, even though she sensed something more bothering her than just a secret man on the side. “What’s up, Ruthie?”
“I think Bob’s cheating on me.”
Oh, this day suuucks. “What?” Gwen contemplated adding a heaping portion of Jack Daniel’s to her coffee and heading back to bed a little before lunch.
Hell, it’s five o’clock somewhere.
“I think Bob is cheating on me. I swear he is.”
“You say that every year about this time. Tax time just happened. He does taxes for a living. He works a lot of hours. You promised me last year when we went through this that you’d ask your doctor for extra meds this year.”
“No, I really think he is cheating on me this time.”
“You thought that last year. And the year before that. And every year.”
Ruthie’s voice turned petulant. “I thought you’d be sympathetic.”
“I am sympathetic.” Gwen eyed a bottle of Valium sitting on top of her microwave with her vitamins and Tylenol, three pills left, from back surgery she’d had two years prior.
Damn, out of date. She tossed it. “I’m sympathetic every year when you think he’s cheating, and every year I’m helping you apologize to him for acting like crazy jealous psycho woman.”
“I called one of the numbers on his private cell. A woman answered.”
Gwen took a calming breath. “And?”
“She answered like she was happy to hear from him, and she said his name. Then when she realized it wasn’t him calling, she hung up and wouldn’t answer when I called back and now the number’s no good.”
“Creepy women calling me and asking me if I’m schtooping their husband tend to make me want to hang up and hide too, honey.”
Ruthie’s tone changed, uncertain. “Do you really think I’m overreacting?”
“Probably. You’re always overreacting. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
Now Ruth sounded like a little girl caught misbehaving. “No.”
“Okay, honey, what’s our rule?”
“I eat and take my meds before I call you.”
“Go eat. Did you take your meds?”
“Yes.”
“What’s our other rule?”
“If I feel paranoid it means I probably didn’t eat when I took my morning meds.”
Gwen took a deep breath to help minimize the amount of snark in her tone. “Riiiight. Sweetie, go eat and call me back later. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Thanks for putting up with me, Gee.”
Gwen felt guilty for her irritation. She literally was the only friend Ruthie had left. She gentled her voice even more. “Go on, and call me back when you feel better.” She hung up and laid the phone on the counter.
Amy returned to the kitchen, still looking odd. Gwen wondered if maybe Mercury had gone retro again and no one remembered to tell her.
“What is it this time?” Amy asked. “Is her foil hat on a little too tight? Green men in her toilet?”
“I know you don’t like her, but she’s a good person.”
“She’s a basket case.” Amy sat at the kitchen table. “I don’t know how you put up with her.” She went back to examining a nail. “Damn sure don’t know how her husband puts up with her,” she grumbled.
Gwen turned on her. “Go what she went through and tell me you wouldn’t be three steps from a rubber room,” she angrily sniped.
Ruthie used to be a had-her-shit-together bank manager. Until four years prior, when she was three months pregnant and taken hostage by a bank robber whose getaway driver spooked and drove off without him when the women resisted. She’d been working the isolated drive-thru booth with another teller, and the men had jumped them when they emerged after closing. Ruthie had offered herself as a higher-value hostage in exchange for the teller he’d grabbed first, a single mom with three small children.
When a police SWAT team rescued her from a hotel room eight hours later, she’d been beaten, raped, tortured…and ended up losing the baby. A baby they’d tried to have for five years and two IVF attempts.
Between Ruthie’s post-traumatic stress disorder, panic attacks, and other trauma-related issues as a result of the attack, she was nearly homebound. Other than their family, she had no friends left.
Besides Gwen.
Ruthie’s husband, Bob, was a sweet man who had stood by his wife’s side during it all, including her multiple hospitalizations and suicide attempts. Bob wasn’t like Gwen’s horndog ex. He wouldn’t cheat on Ruthie. He loved her.
All Gwen had to do was keep reminding Ruthie of that.
“Okay. Back to research,” Gwen said to get the subject off Ruthie. “What did you have in mind?”
“You mentioned you wanted to write a series of romances set out west. I could do some footwork for you.”
“You want an excuse to use up your vacation time and be able to deduct it.” And have more time with your mystery man, she thought. “When will Bob have my taxes done, anyway? I filed the extension after the other bullshit with Dickweed.” Considering Ruthie’s state of mind this morning, Gwen didn’t dare call her back to ask if she knew, and didn’t feel like calling Bob, either. “Did he give you a timeframe when you dropped the stuff off?”
“No, he didn’t. I know he’s going out of town, he told me. So you don’t mind if I go?”
Gwen took a sip of coffee. Ruthie had mentioned him taking a business trip next week.
Great. That means I’ll be shuttling between her house and Mom and Dad’s. “I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning. Of course I don’t mind if you go. I’m your sister, not your freaking boss.”
“Technically you are, because you pay me to help you. You’ve got the book signing in town next weekend, remember?” That wasn’t the only thing Amy was worried about and Gwen damn well knew it.
Gwen groaned. “You know what? I can handle it. Liam can come with me. He’ll be dying for a chance to escape Mom for a few hours. Just go and have fun. You’ve more than earned it.” She gave Amy a one-armed hug and carried her coffee back out to the desk.
Tim had replied to Gwen’s e-mail.
You can have as much coffee as you want on me, if you ever come visit me, I promise. Kissy-huggy! - TimE.
Well, if her day had to go to shit, at least she had Tim to cheer her up. They normally e-mailed back and forth several times a week, sometimes several times a day. He felt like a close friend even though they’d never met in real life, or even talked on the phone. She loved their flirty banter despite knowing it would never amount to anything other than great fodder for her books.
Le sigh.
Amy followed Gwen to her desk. “I need to go to work. So we’re cool with me bugging out on you for a little while?”
“Jesus, I said go. What, you going on safari or something?”
“No, just Rapid City for two weeks.”
She couldn’t resist the urge to bust Amy’s balls. “There’s two weeks’ worth of stuff to do in Rapid City?”
Amy rolled her eyes. “I’m going to drive around and sightsee. Do some hiking. If I don’t use that vacation time, I’m going to lose it. I’ll be out there already, so it’ll save me hassles with our ’rents, you know that. A legitimate reason to be gone so I don’t have to explain myself. You’ll back me up, right?”
Gwen snorted. “Yeah, they’ll blame me instead. It’s not like you have to change my diaper or anything, kiddo. I’m your little sister, not a fricking baby. I think I can check my own post office box and pay my own bills and stuff for a couple of weeks. And of course I’ll deal with Mom and Dad and keep Liam from killing them. Seriously, go have fun. You deserve it.”