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“I thought so. I have no idea how to respond or even what to do, aside from consulting my attorney, obviously.”
“A logical first step.”
“I don’t feel any obligation to help her support her child, if I’m being perfectly honest, and I think it’s outrageous that she’s come to me with this. The angry, hurt part of me is thinking, ‘Well, what did you expect when you got involved with a married man? Sorry-not-sorry.’ Which I think is a fair way for a woman to feel.”
Dexter looks like he’s holding back his personal opinion, as promised. Instead, he asks his next question: “What are your hopes for your daughters and their long-term contact with Jack’s son?”
Ruby’s eyebrows shoot up. “I have no idea what I truly want. No, actually I do: I want none of it to have happened. I want my husband back and for him to be the person I always thought he was. I want for him to only have two children: MY two children. I want to be as innocent as I was before he piloted his own plane into the Key of Biscay. Beyond that, I’m not sure it’s my place to want or desire anything in particular with regards to his children—all three of them.” She swallows around the lump that’s forming in her throat. “My girls are grown, and they’re going to do whatever they’re going to do with that relationship. My feeling is that they’ll be open to letting it grow as Julien gets older, but I have no idea. They have their own emotions to handle when it comes to their father, his choices, and his death.”
Dexter stays respectfully silent, but nods as he listens.
“Hi,” a man says, approaching with his hands spread to show that he’s harmless. It’s a stance that a lot of people adopt when they approach Ruby, and it's meant to say, “I have no weapons, I have no camera in hand, and I’m not asking for anything.”
Within Ruby’s peripheral vision, Banks moves from under the tree and approaches. She gives him a slight shake of the head.
“My wife was just here with our little girl,” he says, pointing over to where the young mom is sitting with the toddler fairy in her lap. She waves at Ruby shyly, then holds up her daughter’s hand to make her wave as well. “And we don’t want to bother you at all, but we both wanted to say that we love you so much, and all that you did for schools and literacy while President Hudson was in office. We’re both elementary school teachers,” he adds hastily, sounding nervous and excited. “Anyway, we were hoping we could get a picture with you. If not of all of us, then maybe just you with our daughter, Gemma. So she can always have the photo even though she’s too young to remember meeting a First Lady.”
Ruby smiles and stands, brushing off the seat of her pants. She wants to put this poor guy at ease, as he seems so anxious to ask her for a photo. If she were a betting woman, she’d guess that his wife has put him up to it.
“Of course. I’d love to,” she says, smiling at him.
The man waves his wife over excitedly and she jumps up, grabbing Gemma and placing her on one hip so that she can walk quickly over to them before Ruby changes her mind.
“Hi, I’m Beth, and this is Gemma,” she says.
“And I’m Dylan,” the man adds, realizing that he never said his name.
“Lovely to meet all of you,” Ruby says, reaching out to touch the little pink ballet slipper on Gemma’s foot. “I can have my friend take the photo,” she says, nodding at Dexter. “Do you mind, Dex?”
He stands up and takes Dylan’s phone agreeably, waiting while everyone gets into position, with Gemma still on her mother’s hip and Ruby in the middle.
“Okay, everyone get ready,” Dexter says, holding up the phone and peering at the screen while he gets them in the frame. “One, two, three, say ‘pumpkins!’”
“Pumpkins!” they all shout, even Gemma, who giggles and kicks her small feet with glee. She obviously has no idea what all the fuss is about, but she’s tickled by the chance to take photos all the same.
Dexter snaps a few more pictures for the happy family, then hands the phone back. Ruby tells them all goodbye and that she’s loved meeting them, but inside she feels a wistful nostalgia tugging at her. Dylan and Beth have their whole lives ahead of them, as does baby Gemma. Their little family is just starting to grow and turn into what it will eventually become, and for now, they have nothing but hope, plans, and dreams for their future.
Ruby had all of that once. Her girls were small and their lives ahead were still unknown. Jack was a politician with big plans, and all she knew was the happiness that their lives together brought her. She waves as the family crosses the grass on their way back to their blanket, then looks out at the pumpkins on the water one last time.
“I think this is a good place to break for the night,” she says to Dexter, who is still standing next to her. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
For tonight, she wants to be alone with her thoughts and her memories. If she can, she wants to fall asleep remembering what it felt like to be a young family without a care in the world. She wants to recall the safety of that moment, and the sense that nothing could unravel the ties that bound them all together.
Because she knows now that those ties aren’t nearly as tight as they seem at the beginning, and all it takes is a few wrong choices for them to loosen altogether.
Sunday
The sun has set on Tangier Island, but people are still milling about, standing outside of the tavern on the main drag, walking in and out of the corner grocery store, and trading gossip with one another at the top of the dock. Cameron and Olive have both changed into jeans and sweatshirts with coats, but Sunday is wearing thick corduroy pants, a heavy sweater, and lace-up boots.
“Planning on gutting some fish, Mom?” Olive asks playfully, taking in her outfit from head to toe.
“You never know,” Sunday smiles. “You could be called on anytime to help out with a catch of rockfish or speckled trout.” She winks at Cameron. “You might mess up your manicure.”
“Definitely not,” Cameron says, wrinkling her nose. Of the two girls, Cameron is the one least likely to get her hands dirty or to do anything that might be considered even the least bit outdoorsy.
“I love that life on this whole island revolves around the fishing industry,” Olive says, watching as three men tie up a boat and step off in their oilcloth coveralls, with boots that come up to their knees. “It’s so charming.”
Just then, the bells of the church ring loudly to mark that it’s seven o’clock.
