Rubes!

Leaving the hall, Rhea queried, interested in my conversation with the evening presenter.

"You shared a long conversation," she baited me.

Unlike my awful effort beside a young Miranda at the local store, I responded as effusively as Ms Marre deserved.

"Ruby is a bright, fun person—an exuberant personality. I'm chuffed we reconnected. She is a five-star friend of Coral's. I'll introduce you to her soon."

"If Coral likes her, that's always a good sign. She spoke splendidly tonight."

"She's super confident," piped Phoebe, joining in.

We walked together; I took Rhea's hand to my right and my daughters to my left; we filled the sidewalk.

Ruby and I met up at a café the following week.

A franchise store decked out with pleasantly curved chairs and soft lighting. She was the self-assured Ruby as her hands spread across her navy jacket.

While she sipped on a mocha, snippets of Ruby's life emerged, shedding light on past events.

It followed seeing a frazzled shopper enter the café, drop two heavy bags of groceries and order an extra strong black coffee.

"God shopping," I started, "Never my strong point!"

"Or mine," and Ruby laughed.

"Yet there we were once, kids in tow at a convenience store," I reminded her.

"I might need a black coffee," stated Ruby.

"Why," I inquired, leaning closer over the table.

"The day we met in the suburban store, I was in the dumps. I think you should have noticed. But, you had your shell-shocked; oh hell, what is Ruby doing here? Look!"

I wanted to hide behind my coffee mug but held my glance.

Ruby continued, "I ran into you one month into solo parenthood, following a long de facto relationship."

After a mouthful of coffee, I indicated, "I had a vibe that day. Something wasn't right in your life. I lost it as I twisted in my reaction to seeing you."

"Yeah, I was uncomfortable meeting you," she said, "I dodged acknowledging I had been abandoned."

"Not our best meeting," I returned, "We shared a few!"

"Oh my, the races, I hoped you picked a winner that day. You looked like you needed it!" she teased.

Ruby rushed her words and leaned forward, knowing heart wounds could fade over time, day by day.

"Yes, and I know you picked a winner! I adored your fascinator. I speculated your mum made the beautiful headpiece."

Her eyes flashed directly, and she tightened the grip on her jacket. "I thought you'd compliment me on my style that race day like you always whispered to Coral — admiring fashion statements."

Holding an empty coffee mug, I admitted, "I found a chin-wag with Coral easy. I never felt confident chatting with you."

"Yeah, at the races, as I hurried off to find my party, I realised you still shied small talk and flirting with any girl — except Coral!"

I stretched out, lifted my eyes and replied, "True. I do better with Rhea. Come to dinner and meet her."

With a twinkle in her eye, Ruby encouraged me to clink empty coffee mugs as she agreed.

Ruby attended a dinner night at our home. Before her arrival, Rhea and I discussed the Pulse nightclub and what had happened to Michael.

Rhea's compassionate nature extended to Ruby as a mother whose child was exposed to horrendous scarring events.

I told Rhea of Ruby's dynamic nature, "She is a master of resilience, yet her experiences have left their marks."

Providing this information ahead of time, the dinner party proved a fabulous success. Rhea and Ruby were instant buddies in the kitchen and shared their love of languages.

The two chuckled as a whimsy Ruby spilled a joke entirely dependent on wordplay in German as Rhea prepared soufflés.

Into our second bottle of red, Ruby announced that Michael and his partner had agreed to marry in California at the end of September. Surviving the shooting, Michael and Phillip decided there would be no more delays in their union.

On impulse, Ruby offered, "Why don't you come? I'll invite you both."

I glanced at Rhea, who, without hesitation, refilled our glasses for a toast.

"Thank you, Ruby, "I said as we clinked wine glasses.

She gave me a lightning eyelash flutter before sipping her red.

In September 2016, Rhea and I travelled to North America. Prior to the boys' wedding, Rhea and I journeyed to Niagara Falls. I undertook it as a relationship gift and repentance for my lapse with Jenny at the courthouse.

Niagara Falls rekindled my flame for Rhea. We went on paired walks on nature trails, ate burgers, and drank at the local hot spots. We shopped together for souvenirs as gifts for family and friends. Our highlights included seeing The Cave of the Winds and boarding the Maid of the Mist.

On our final afternoon, we locked arms at a fall vantage point, mutually contemplating the extraordinary surrounding us.

After an extended meditation on the incomparable, I effused, "Enough water for you?"

She tousled my wet hair and squeezed my hand.

With the falls off our bucket list, our itinerary lay open before heading to Michael's wedding. I suggested Quebec City or Chicago to Rhea. My judgement call, she insisted.

It was an easy call; I chose The National Gallery of Art in D.C. We started in D.C. by visiting memorable poignant sites, the Lincoln Memorial, the National Mall, and veteran memorials. We spent the rest of our time at the Washington Monument, Jefferson Memorial, The Library of Congress, and its Gutenberg Bible. And Rhea indulged my love of architecture from the White House to the Washington National Cathedral. The Art Gallery I left for the final day in D.C.

Rhea liked the impressionist artist Mary Cassatt, an excellent painter of women and children. We wandered a staggering collection of artistic treasures. I saved viewing Pollock's Lavender Mist until the end.

I recalled the painting as described by a young Coral on my backyard lawn. The canvas delivered nuances of life intuition as captivating as my best friend had declared. The wondrous painting absorbed and expanded my spirit. The journey of my life and those skeining through it magically weaved.

"Mmm," wondered Rhea, "It's pretty, but I can see why they called the artist Jack the Dripper!"

I squeezed her hand.

—Michael and his partner Philip celebrated a brief civil L.A. wedding. They were a heartwarming couple. After, we gathered at Fisherman's Wharf.

We started at a bar and then migrated to a cafe.

Ruby invited me for a short walk after lunch.

Rhea, a bit weary, stayed and chatted alongside the boys.

Ruby and I wholeheartedly missed Coral's attendance. Work commitments clashed. The wharf triggered a reminisce of the jetty of our youth.

"Ruby," I confided, "This wharf made me brood—"

"I know," she cut in, "Coral and Josh!"

Contrite, I mused aloud, "We should have seen Coral and Josh married on their jetty."

She supplied a rapid thumbs up.

"We need to make our amends," I perked, "They messed it up, and neither of us stopped them as we both sought Coral."

"OK, I'll hustle Coral there. You grab Josh!" fired Ruby, rubbing her hands.

I halted, and my mind stood still.

Ruby, ahead of me, pin-wheeled and winked.

"You've done this before at the spring. You can do it again!"

She meant it. There was no teenage Ruby teasing.

"OK, the jetty, I'll bring Josh and the fishing rods —"

My hands pretended to cast a rod.

"I'll escort Coral and the picnic basket," she finished, swinging her arm.

I studied Ruby, looking at her carefully, trying to grasp a holistic vision of her.

Her fawn dress pants shaped her well as they rested snugly around her hips. 

I recalled the sassy brunette, perfect in jeans.

She had tapered, short hair for the wedding– like Paris.

The effervescent pixie. 

Her eyes, sea blue, matched the water of the bay.

I pictured Ruby and her sabot at a regatta. 

Her lashes — mocha!

I stopped, wishing to thank her for trying to net Coral and Josh back together.

"Thanks, Rubes," I started before quickly realising my mistake.

I rushed my hand to my mouth, apologetic.

I corrected myself, "Thanks, Ruby."

"It's fine; no more taking the mickey out of you. You're not a puppy anymore. Rubes is fine; well, sometimes!"

She gestured to tie a phantom ponytail and batted her eyelashes.

Before re-joining Rhea and the boys, I fretted, "We owe it to try."

"No," and Ruby added a finger wag.

I halted, not following her thinking.

"We will succeed," she spread her arms like a sail and gazed out to the sea.

I wondered why.

Would I ever know Ruby's hidden horizons? 

Maybe one day!

She spun and hugged me.

Spontaneous Rubes! 

My arms enfolded her; I embraced Ruby Marre as a friend.