Ellis counted on that now as he trailed Sylvia and Ruby from their house. Hand in hand, both looked properly suited for the day. A flared dress and angled hat for Sylvia, a school uniform and yellow hair bow for Ruby.
But no sign of Calvin.
The walk lasted around ten minutes, ending at an imposing brick school. Sylvia bent to straighten Ruby’s collar before releasing her into the stream of children, most arriving on their own. Other escorts bore the looks of young nannies.
Only after Ruby stepped through the doors did Sylvia turn to reverse her path. Ellis maintained his distance across the street. He ventured to guess she’d be back in the afternoon to accompany Ruby home.
To talk to the girl one-on-one, he’d have to pick his moment.
A playground abutted the west side of the school. As long as the weather held up—the merging patches of clouds could go either way—an outdoor recess was sure to be on the schedule.
And so he would wait.
Apartment buildings strewn through the area were interspersed with the usual stores. At the barbershop, he bought a copy of the Tribune—ironically, the only paper they sold—and parked himself on a bench. From the cobbler shop behind him, wafts of leather and shoe polish escaped with each swing of the door.
He perused articles to pass the time. The bolded headlines and coveted bylines further reminded him of the daily news meeting that loomed ahead.
Finally, a burst of high-pitched voices grabbed his attention.
Students were pouring out of the school, set free to skip and pounce. They fanned out over the playground.
Ellis abandoned his paper on the bench. As he made his way across the street, he sifted through the young faces as if panning for an elusive nugget of gold. But even a closer scan—over their swinging and sliding, their battles in hopscotch—failed to produce Ruby.
Then he saw it.
The yellow hair ribbon.
Off by herself, on the side edge of the grounds, Ruby was milling beneath an apple tree. It wasn’t nearly as full or sturdy as the one beside her farmhouse, where its branches easily supported her brother and his dangling, but maybe she still found comfort in the similarities it held.
From behind the tree, Ellis walked up casually, hands in his pockets. It had been too long for her to remember him. He didn’t want to scare her away.
“Enjoying the quiet over here?”
Ruby looked up from the leaf in her hand. She shrugged.
“Don’t want to play with the other kids, huh?”
She glanced toward her classmates, the shrieking and hollering like a cauldron of glee, and Ellis expected another shrug.
“Not allowed,” she replied.
Evidently, it was a quarantine of sorts. Swapping overalls for a uniform must not have tamed the spitfire of a girl he recalled, and honestly, he was glad to hear it. “You’ve been causing some trouble, then,” he said lightly.
“Got a stain on my sweater. From the teeter-totter.” She pointed toward the seesaw that kids were launching up and down with gusto. “Happened weeks ago, but still can’t go on the thing.” Focusing back on the leaf, she tore off pieces and flicked them aside. Not in a musing way. More of a rigid act steeped in irritation.
Ellis noted the lone, matronly teacher on recess duty. She was surveying the playground as a warden would a prison yard. It took no effort to imagine her enforcing such a ridiculous penalty. He’d try his best to stay out of her eyeshot.
“Whatcha doing here anyway?” Ruby asked. “You come to take pictures?”
It took him a second to process the connection. Impressed, Ellis smiled at her. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Just that it’s been a while.” About eight months, incredibly. “And we only met that once… Well, twice, I suppose.”
“Saw you from my window lots of times, bringing boxes to our porch. Food and things.”
Another cause for surprise. Each time, he’d parked at the end of the drive, headlights diverted from their windows. Under the veil of night, he thought he’d been sly. “You knew it was me all along?”
She picked up a fresh leaf and resumed her tearing, a little gentler now. “I’d hear that motor of yours. Sounded like it was hurtin’ something fierce.”
“Yeah. It was.” Ellis laughed to himself. “Still is.”
Her cheeks warmed, and a smile he recognized curved her small lips. “I liked the pickled beets you left. The pears too. Could’ve done without the chickpeas.”