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"And Sunday doesn't seem interested in raising a newborn?" Ruby teases, trying to lighten the mood.
Banks laughs sadly. "No. I think she might be willing to get a puppy, though. Someday."
Ruby's smile fades and she gets serious, turning her face toward the fireplace and watching the flames for a moment. "You know," she finally says, looking back at Banks as she reaches for a chunk of cauliflower on the crudité plate, "there are a lot of babies and young people in Sunday's life. She's got her two daughters, a new grandbaby on the way, and she's just starting to work with the National Council for Adoption." Ruby shakes her head; there is a look of admiration on her face. "She's a wonder, Banks. And there is no shortage of love in her life or in her heart."
He nods. He does know this about Sunday, and Ruby is right: Sunday has a huge heart, and a lot of love in her life. It's one of the things he likes best about her, and it translates to laughter, affection, and an easygoing nature. She'd given up her first baby, a little boy, as a teenager, and then had adopted two daughters and raised them with the former Vice President. Now she's an active and vocal supporter of adoption, and he knows that doing the work for the National Council for Adoption is going to fill a space in her heart with joy. Banks just needs to find something similar for himself--some way to reconcile the fact that while he might never technically be anyone's father, heiscapable of giving love, guidance, and of protecting another soul the way a parent does.
"You're right, ma'am," he agrees, nodding. And then, catching himself, he looks her right in the eye. "Ruby."
A smile like a sunrise spreads over Ruby's face as they both pick up their fondue forks again. She holds hers up and he instinctively knows that she wants him to tap his fork against it, so he does.
"Cheers," Ruby says. "To friendship, to love, to sharing."
Banks suddenly feels shy; has he really just shared this much with his boss? The wine must be going to his head. But instead of feeling awkward, he holds her gaze. "Cheers," he says. "To all of the above."
* * *
It's difficult to retreat after the warmth of lunch and to fall back into work mode, but Banks takes a deep breath and holds his pace behind them as Ruby and Dexter walk down the sidewalk. He's about five steps behind, eyes casually scanning as they stroll, and he can hear them talking animatedly between themselves.
"Sorry again," Dexter says, adjusting his messenger bag as he looks at Ruby walking beside him. "Got that taken care of and submitted, and now I am wholly devoted once again to the task at hand."
"It was no problem. Banks and I had lunch, and I'm happy as a clam. I would like to pop into a few shops and we should find Etienne and Julien, but--"
"Oh!" Dexter slaps his forehead with a palm in a way that would look ridiculously theatrical on any other man, but on him it just looks casual and jokey. "I totally forgot to text you even though I promised I would."
Ruby frowns at him, slowing her pace. "What's up?"
"Etienne and Julien came into the cafe where I was working, and he was still under the weather so she decided to Uber back home. She told us to just get a car whenever we felt like coming back." He pulls a business card from the pocket of his jacket and hands it to her. "She said to either Uber or use this car service."
Ruby takes the card and inspects it before slipping it into the pocket of her blazer. They start walking again. "Huh. I hope Julien isn't sick," she says distractedly, nodding at a soap store on their left with a huge display in the window. It's a pyramid of colorful bars of soap, and the door is open to the sidewalk, releasing the fragrant scent of vanilla, orange, and sandalwood into the air. "And speaking of Etienne, I want to grab a hostess gift for her here."
They duck into the shop together as Banks takes up his usual stance right outside the door. When they exit, they're still talking.
"Buying a hostess gift for your husband's mistress," Dexter is saying, looking puzzled. "It sort of goes above and beyond normal Emily Post-type manners, doesn't it?"
Ruby shrugs. "Maybe. But doing what I know is proper in any situation is my way of managing my own feelings. Like, if I can just follow my mental guidebook of manners," Ruby says, tucking her little bag of soaps into her purse, "then I can process my own feelings internally while never giving myself away."
"Aha," Dexter says, falling into step beside her as Banks trails behind them silently. "Then the manners are a tool, in a way."
"I guess." Ruby looks puzzled. "I've never thought of it that way--like the way I behave is somehow insincere and meant to manipulate people...I'm not sure I like that!"
"Well, I'm certainly not sayingthat," Dexter says, holding up both hands.
"No, no--I'm just thinking it through." Ruby bites her lower lip as they walk. "I guess I just see our behavior in society and towards one another as the last bastion of good taste and peaceful coexistence. It seems like everywhere you go now, people are shouting, swearing, and acting like they're the only people in the world, you know?" Dexter nods, but says nothing. "And I want to make sure that I'm somehow contributing to polite society and not taking away from it. I want to uphold the behaviors weshouldbe exhibiting towards one another outside of our own homes."
"Tall order," Dexter says.
Ruby stops walking suddenly and grabs Dexter by the arm, laughing as she does. "Am I too boring?" she asks.
Dexter looks down at her with amusement, letting her hold onto his arm as she continues to laugh. "No," he says. "I don't think you're boring. You think I'd write a whole book with someone who was a total snooze?"
"I have no idea." She's shaking her head now and still holding Dexter's elbow. "I just...I'm all aboutmannersandbehaving," she says, using air quotes. "But what you really need to sell this book is sensationalism. Spice. Intrigue. Am I right?"
"Not necessarily." Dexter shrugs. "People know the Ruby Hudson they see in the public eye, so all we really need is to reveal the real you, and that can be...you know--thereal you. Whatever that may be."
"Okay." Ruby is nodding again like she's back on track. "I just had a moment where I got really hung up on the idea that you need me to give you more than what I'm giving you."
Dexter looks around to make sure that there's no one standing right behind them. "Ruby. You're a widow who was married to a former president who died suddenly. He had a mistress and a child tucked away in another country for more than a decade. You moved to a pirate-themed island to open a bookstore. You're brilliant, and funny, and you were an actress, and you have a secret tattoo."
