With this segment of Chapter Eleven of Repairing the Legacy, we continue the serialization of Repairing the Legacy. This is a rough draft work in progress and may not reflect the final form. Time period: set after the ending of The Martiniere Legacy main trilogy. I’m breaking longer chapters into sections for readability. This is the second

part of Chapter Eleven. There will be three parts to this chapter.

New to the series? Chapter order:

Return of the Prodigal Son (2 parts)

Conversations and a Dinner (2 parts)

Dancing into Change (2 parts)

Sisterly Compromises (3 parts)

Conspiracies at the Rodeo (3 parts)

Passing the Baton (4 parts)

Research Complications (3 parts)

Chasing After Shadows (3 parts)

Fifth Anniversary Present (3 parts)

Mariah (5 parts)

April 2067

RUBY

The Ballet School was more than happy to schedule Lily into classes. Two years ago, Lily’s ballet teachers in Pendleton and Walla Walla had recommended that she try out for the Nutcracker in Portland, and Lily had earned a role as one of the second act angels, repeated last year. This year, she aspired to dance as either one of the party attendees, or Marie (or was it Clara? Ruby could never keep the different roles straight, as one version the company performed called the main female child lead Marie, and the other one called her Clara).

But Martiniere donations and sponsorships didn’t hurt Lily’s chances for a prime Nutcracker role, either. And they made it easy to slide Lily into classes whenever she was in Portland.

They had just enough time to pick up appropriate brown slippers, tights, and leotard as well as Lily’s preferred purple leg warmers from a dance supply store, then sew the elastics in before Lily’s first class. Ruby was grateful that a sewing kit was one of the things she always, always, slipped into her bag when traveling—a habit carried over from rodeo queen days. She was finishing up securing Lily’s hair—another thing to be thankful for was the time spent with Kris learning how to do Lily’s hair right—when Justine arrived at the condo.

“Is Mama okay?” were the first words out of Lily’s mouth. She jerked toward Justine. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Hold still,” Ruby murmured. “This old white lady still isn’t as good at Black hair as your mama.” She secured the last strands of Lily’s beautiful dark hair into the single bun that Lily preferred for her classes, as opposed to the three buns that Kris usually put into Lily’s hair.

Justine dropped onto the couch. “Your mama is all right, Lily. Your father stayed at the hospital so she’s not alone. He’ll be back in time for dinner.” A pause, then she continued. “Your mama will be discharged tomorrow afternoon.”

Ruby silently sagged with relief and stood up. “We’re just heading out for Lily’s dance class. We’ll stop at the grocery on the way back and pick up stuff to make dinner.”

“Are you going to watch my class along with Grandma, Auntie Justine? Please?”

Justine exchanged a glance with Ruby. “Sure. Why not? The three of us can plan dinner on the way back.”

And we’ll get the chance to talk about Kris privately, while Lily’s in class.

#

Justine slipped Ruby a flask after they settled in the viewing area. “Since security’s driving, I thought you might want a nip. God only knows I need one after this.”

“Thank you.” Ruby sipped, then handed it back. “What’s the situation?”

Her sister-in-law grimaced. “Well, it could have been worse. One area of invasive tissue that the doctor thought might force a hysterectomy, but with some careful work they avoided doing that.”

“I don’t know if to be relieved, or further worried.”

“Same here.” Justine rolled her eyes. “My personal, informed, opinion? Kris endangers her health by trying for another child. They were lucky to have Lily survive to viability, thanks to what was done to Kris under fucking indenture. But Kris wants more children, has always wanted several.”

“Adoption.”

“There’s always kids who would benefit from being adopted. Or surrogates if they’re bound and determined to have their own kids.” Justine shook her head. “But I’m not going to argue with both Brandon and Kris. I’ve dealt with enough of these situations in the Rescue Angel. I recognize the pattern. Some people—I just didn’t think I’d encounter that mentality in my own damn family! Maybe I’ll try one more time. I am really worried about Kris’s health.”

“Bran and Kris’s dynamics aren’t the usual,” Ruby sighed. “Kris—everything she went through in indenture. Bran, as a result of me and Gabe divorcing when he was so little. And all the crap that went along with that. He keeps telling me he’s not jealous about Mike having a full-time father, when he didn’t. But sometimes I wonder. He was so determined to get us back together eight years ago, after Rachel’s death, and so happy when we did.”

“You never thought about anyone else? I mean—it didn’t stop Gabie from remarrying.”

Ruby tapped her chin with a forefinger, remembering. Her absolute, utter fury at Gabe’s involvement with Mariah Meyers, and her lesser anger when she learned he was marrying Rachel Alvarez. Even now—knowing that her emotions had been shaped by Philip Martiniere’s mind control programming, and that Gabe had undergone more severe manipulation which removed his ability to choose his actions—she still felt a stirring of that rage when she thought about everything that happened during their divorce.

“No,” she said finally. “Not even to give Bran a stepfather.” She shook her head. “Gabe was the first man I completely trusted.” A bitter laugh. “The only man I’ve ever trusted. That’s why it took me so long to agree to remarry him—rebuilding that trust. And after the divorce, there just wasn’t anyone around Thunder County who wasn’t either a relative or someone looking to grab my land. Or the RubyBots.”

Justine took another swig off the flask and handed it to Ruby. “I had an exit strategy that involved several men when Donald and I divorced.”

“Why did you divorce?” Ruby held the flask, not quite ready to take another sip. Justine’s divorce from Donald was yet another subject where she tended to evade direct questioning.

“Politics,” Justine said curtly. “You going to take a drink, Ruby?”

Ruby sipped and handed the flask back. “But you didn’t marry any of those men.”

Her sister-in-law took a longer drink this time. “No. And much as Donald and I care for each other, we’re not remarrying.” Another drink. “Have you talked to Gabriel about me, Eliot, and Nick?”

“No.”

Gabriel, not Gabie.

One of Justine’s cues that this was a serious discussion.

“Ask him. He knows what the situation was, and I—” She shook her head again. “Too much. After today. After Kris.”

The class moved away from the barre. Lily led the four dancers through chaîné turns, then piqué turns. Ruby admired the elegant, precise lines of her granddaughter’s movements. Lily was already so graceful and coordinated, at such a young age. Darker-skinned than her great-grandmother Angelica, who had been working her way up the dance ranks when she broke her ankle, then had been courted by the Martiniere brothers, Saul and Philip. That rich dark-brown shade of Lily’s skin, coupled with the big brown eyes that came straight from Gabe, and her black curly hair, added to her beauty.

Ruby smiled, remembering her first sight of Lily as a newborn. The awe of realizing that she was a grandmother, and this beautiful, tiny, near-perfectly formed little girl was her granddaughter.

Those big eyes, and all those curls. Prettier even than Brandon as a baby.

And their son had been so cute as an infant and toddler, growing into the same darkly handsome presence as Gabe. Even Gabe at newly sixty-five still took Ruby’s breath away. He aged well, and that come-hither look of his when aroused, coupled with that slow, intimate smile—well, the combination always made her stomach flutter and warmth flood through her.

Her granddaughter was gorgeous, hearkening more to her Martiniere ancestry than Kris’s or Ruby’s. Too bad Lily didn’t care for horses, otherwise she might have made a lovely rodeo queen.

Perhaps Lily would follow in Angelica’s footsteps as a dancer. It might be a calmer future than to force Lily into the pathway that took her into Martiniere Group leadership.

Lily and Mike both might be better off if the title of Martiniere went to a different branch of the Family.

“She’s beautiful,” Justine said. “If only—”

“Yeah.” Ruby reached for the flask. “If only.”

#

She waited to call Gabe until later in the evening, once Lily was in bed and Brandon had retreated to his room. Ruby excused herself from the living room where Donald and Justine watched a movie, and went to her room. She carried a drink—last one of the day. Even though Justine’s flask was small, it still carried enough whisky to pack a punch.

“Wondered when you were going to call.” Gabe leaned back in his office chair, a matching straight shot of whisky in his hand. He must have poured it to be ready for her call so they could drink and talk—one thing they always tried to do in the evenings when they were apart. “Everything’s all right with Kris?”

“Well, everything except that Justine thinks Kris shouldn’t keep trying to have her own babies.” Ruby sipped from her drink. “In her informed opinion. Hydatidiform mole. Not so bad that it required hysterectomy, but bad enough.”

Gabe winced. “Oh, that has to be tough for Tine.”

“It is.” Ruby pondered her drink, wondering if this was a good time to ask about Justine, Eliot and Nick.

Not now, she decided. In person.

“How are Brandon and Lily holding up, and when is Kris being discharged?” Gabe sipped from his drink.

“Bran is—as well as could be expected. Some tension between him and Justine, because she’s pushing for them to stop trying for a second child.”

“And they don’t agree.”

Another sip. “No. Justine told me she wasn’t going to push—but she tried one last time at dinner. Bran shut her down hard.”

“She’s right.” Gabe sighed. “But that’s not going to make a difference, is it? Bran and Kris have always gone their own way when it comes to these situations.”

“Pretty much. We made a stubborn kid, and while that has its blessings, it’s also been a challenge over the years.”

Gabe smiled wryly and saluted Ruby with his glass. “Our son gets it from both of us.”

“Boy does he ever. And Lily is Lily. She had a class at the Ballet School today, two tomorrow, so she’s happy and occupied. Kris gets discharged tomorrow afternoon. They’re staying one more night, then going home.”

“That’s a relief. When are you returning?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, once Kris is here at Donald’s condo. Justine and Donald are staying, just in case. But I figured I should be around until then, at least.”

“A good idea.”

“How’s Mike?”

“No new appearances of the damned worm, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“That’s good.” She took another sip. “You and Mike could always come down here day after tomorrow, and we could go to the cliff house. Either all three of us, or I could ask Justine if she wants some time playing auntie with Mike. I need a break.” Mike and Justine liked going to the museums in Portland, both art and science, and it had been a few months since they had done that.

But having that many people here in the condo—probably best to wait until Bran and Kris went back to Moondance. Especially if Lily went into one of her moods.

Gabe contemplated his drink. “The thought is tempting, even if it means waiting another day to see you. I don’t think we should throw Mike and Lily into such close quarters, especially after—this. The stress could complicate things. I’d just as soon avoid causing one of her meltdowns.”

“Lily has been pretty stable, thanks to her dance classes, but—I agree.” Moondance was one thing. Mike and Lily had separate suites, were in different wings of the house. Mike could isolate himself from Lily any time he wanted if she slipped into a mode where she wanted to stalk him.

Not so in Donald’s condo.

“Let me know if Justine’s up for minding Mike for a couple of days.” Gabe blew Ruby a kiss. “Love you, darling, and miss you.”

“Miss you too.” She blew him a kiss in return.

Talking to Gabe about Justine’s history could wait until they were in the same place.