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“What, honey?”
“There’s not really much to do here since you bought the place totally furnished.” Athena leans a hip against the counter and props one bare foot on top of the other. She is long and lanky, and her hair naturally falls in the kind of waves that come from unbraiding your hair after sleeping with it in plaits. “Do you want to go to that main street in town and see what’s going on?”
“Seadog Lane,” Ruby says helpfully.
“Huh?”
“The main street is called Seadog Lane. We could take a run up there and order a couple of grogs while we people watch. What do you think?”
“Grog, Mom? Seadog Lane? Will we be talking like pirates for long, or do you think this will wear off soon?”
Ruby laughs and pulls her pale blonde hair back with one hand, securing an elastic around it to hold it in a low ponytail. “I think the newness will wear off, but trust me when I tell you that the pirate theme isdeeplyingrained in this place.”
“Someone needs to tell these people that a little bit goes a long way,” Athena says, rolling her eyes. “It’s charming though.”
Ruby walks over to the window and stares out at the ocean, keeping her back to her daughter. The late February sun outside is slanted at an angle that sends its rays directly into Ruby’s bright kitchen. She stands there, letting it warm her skin while she watches the blue water beyond the sand.
“How are you doing, Bean?” Ruby asks, using her daughter’s nickname. Her whole life, she’s been some version of Athena Beana, Theen Bean, or just Bean. “Are you okay?” Ruby can almost feel her daughter go still behind her, and for a long minute, Athena says nothing.
“Are we talking about Dad?” she finally says.
It’s Ruby’s turn to be still and pause before going on. “We are.”
Athena walks across the kitchen and stands next to her mother so that they’re shoulder-to-shoulder, looking out at the sea.
“I’m still pissed,” she says. “I’m angry at him, and at everyone who knew what was going on. They left us—they left you—in the dark. No one should have to feel like they were married to a stranger.”
Ruby considers this. “I don’t think I feel that way, Bean. I knew your father better than anyone else did.” Athena turns her head and stares at her mother’s profile. She says nothing. “I don’t think evensheknew him like I did. In fact, I know she didn’t. She couldn’t have.”
Athena looks back at the water and they watch the waves roll in and out several times before either one of them speaks again.
“So, about that grog,” Ruby says, using a shoulder to nudge her daughter, who stands five-foot-ten and is a full three inches taller than Ruby is. “I could go for a walk and a drink.”
A soft smile spreads across Athena’s face as they make eye contact. “A walk and a drink?” she says, her smile cracking into a full grin. “Aye aye, matey. Let’s do it.”
* * *
Seadog Lane is like a movie set. Its pirate-themed perfection is reminiscent of something straight out of Walt Disney World, and Ruby fully expects to see a pirate with a peg leg and a hoop earring come stumbling out of a storefront. Everywhere she looks there are nods to pirates and nautical life.
“This is actually insane,” Athena says, following Ruby through an old wooden door with an iron ring for a handle. They walk into a dark bar called The Frog’s Grog. There are flickering lanterns on every table, and from the ceiling hang yellowed lights that cast a warm glow on the dark wood that makes up nearly every surface of the bar: counter, floors, tables, chairs, beams and posts.
A man wearing a vest and a jaunty pirate’s cap walks over to their table with a pronounced hobble.
“Is that for real, or do you think he’s in character?” Athena whispers, smiling widely at him when he reaches the table.
“Two grogs, please,” Ruby says, folding her hands together and smiling up at him.
The man stares down at her with an amused look. “Aye, miss,” he says, “mind if I see some ID?”
Athena pulls out her wallet dutifully and starts to fish out her drivers license, but the bartender is looking at Ruby with a twinkle in his eye.
“It’s you I’m going to need to double-check, miss,” he says to Ruby as his gray mustache twitches with mirth.
It takes a second—it usually does—but then Ruby gets his joke and decides to play along. She pulls her purse onto her lap and unzips it. People pretending not to know who she is might be the most popular gag that strangers play on her, but she always goes with it because Ruby wasn’t raised to be famous. She wasn’t brought up in a world where being well-known was her reality, and a tiny part of her still feels like, well, maybe thereissomeone in America who truly has no clue that she was married to their former president.
“Only kidding, Mrs. Hudson,” the man says, holding up a hand before she goes to the lengths of taking out her identification. It’s clear that while he wanted to have some fun with her, the idea of actually examining her license and seeing 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue listed as her last address might actually be taking it a step too far. “Welcome to Shipwreck Key,” he says, pulling a white rag from where he’s looped it over the apron around his waist. He twists the rag in his hands as he talks. “We’re thrilled to have you here along with…” He turns to Athena and frowns. “Your sister?”
Athena laughs politely; this isn’t the first time a man old enough to be her grandfather has flirted and teased her mother in her presence. It’s always cringey and weird, but she figures it must be flattering to her mom, so she lets it slide.
