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Ruby smiles at him as the light breeze blows her loose hair around. She tips her head to one side. "I'm so glad you were here for it. It made the whole thing more fun for me."
"And we didn't even talk about our book at all."
"Do we need to?"
Dexter thinks for a minute. "Not right now. There'll be time for that." He leans forward and sets his wine on the wooden railing in front of them, then reaches for Ruby's, takes it from her gently, and does the same.
As he stands, Dexter offers Ruby his hand. She's looking up at him and she pauses for a moment, hanging there on the edge of what comes next. Finally, she slips her hand into his and lets him help her to her feet.
"Oh," Ruby says on an exhale as Dexter slips his hands around her waist and lets them slide around her, pulling her closer. Her heart is hammering as she places her palms against his chest and lets them drift up to his collarbone. It's been so many years since any man but Jack has held her like this.
"Is this okay?" Dexter asks softly, bending his head so that his words go right into her ear over the crashing waves in the distance.
Ruby nods and lets her head rest against his chest. They sway slightly. Dexter is so solid, so firm, and being in his arms feels as exciting and natural as she'd imagined it would. She glances at the window that leads into the dining room and the soft glow of the inside lights falls on the porch and catches the glint of the bracelets on her wrists. Her lips haven't been kissed by anyone other than Jack Hudson since the nineties, and her body is pulsing with anticipation and anxiety.
Has she forgotten how a first kiss should go? Will she be enough for him? The questions and fears race around in her mind until she puts a halt to them.
Ruby lifts her chin and looks up at Dexter--she's ready.
Dexter lowers his face to hers slowly, excruciatingly slowly, holding her gaze as he does. Finally, when he's about to touch his lips to hers, they both close their eyes and bridge the distance between them eagerly.
His lips are soft and warm, and Dexter runs his hands up the curve of her lower back, sending a shiver up Ruby's spine. She tightens her grip around his neck and arches up, deepening this kiss.Oh!she thinks.I remember this feeling...
And it's easy, kissing Dexter. He pulls her even closer, and suddenly their bodies are pressed together as they begin to kiss more urgently, their hands searching, exploring, caressing with wonder.
"Do you want to go inside?" Ruby asks in a raspy voice.
Dexter looks at her with heavy-lidded eyes. He's been completely lost in the moment, and he clearly wants to continue down the path they're on. "Yes," he says, his smile spreading into a wide, lazy grin. "If this is what you want, then I want it too. So much."
Ruby nods, her head bobbing up and down rapidly. "Yes," she says. "It is. I want you to come inside."
She takes a step back from him and offers her hand this time, waiting for him to take it. When he does, she walks slowly across the porch, looking back at him as he follows. They go in through the kitchen door and she locks it behind them, leading him through the kitchen and flipping the lights off as they go. They head up the stairs together, moving towards the warm light of a lamp on a table at the top of the landing like two moths to a flame.
Outside, their wine glasses sit on the railing, already forgotten. The light of the moon glints off the glass, winking in the starlight as Ruby turns the next page of her own story and begins to write the next chapter.
Molly
After the cocktail party at Ruby's, Molly knows she still has a good chunk of her tale to tell, and she's ready to do it all in one go. The women (and men), have all decided to have a non-book club meeting on the beach, building a bonfire like the one that Ruby had done for the Books and Beaches Weekend.
Cobb and Banks have done the honors, setting up the wood pile, arranging the logs and kindling just so, and getting the chairs set up next to it. The group is missing Harlow and Patty, who've gone to New York and home to Santa Barbara respectively, but even without them, their numbers have grown to about fifteen listeners.
Cobb pulls up a chair next to Marigold and they hold hands, looking like the lovebirds they were before their divorce. Molly watches them with mild envy.Having a second chance with the man you love has to be the best feeling in the world, she thinks. Athena sits with Vanessa and Tilly, the three of them clutching cans of some kind of fizzy alcoholic drink that young girls seem to like--Pink Talon? Green Paw? White Claw? Something silly and girly. Molly notices that Bev is letting his granddaughter, who has just turned twenty, have a drink with the other women and she thinks this is fine: poor Tilly has suffered enough living on this tiny island with no one else loving the same weird rock and roll that she does, and no other girls who want to date other girls that Molly knows of. It's a different time, and these kids are living different lives. She isn't sure she'd have the fortitude to help a girl navigate the shark-infested waters of the twenty-first century, but thank god someone does.
Ruby and Sunday are talking to Heather, Ella, and Bev, and there's a knot of other people getting drinks from a cooler and finding seats as Molly waits to carry on with her tale.
When everyone is happy and seated and the talking subsides, Molly leans forward in her beach chair, elbows on her knees. She's nearly at the end of this story, and she knows she'll miss the telling of it--the reliving of the whole adventure. When she's finished sharing, it will feel like finally putting Rodney to rest for good.
Molly clears her throat. "Shall we?" she says, clapping her hands together once.
The crowd grows quiet and only the waves and the crackling of the wood on the fire can be heard.
"Alright," Molly begins. "So I bought the ticket for Amsterdam."
* * *
It was another two and a half hour train ride from Amsterdam to Groningen, and when Molly called Lina from the train station in Amsterdam, she'd answered excitedly, speaking easy, carefree English riddled with charming mistakes.
"My father called on the train and he cries that you are American and lovely and you need a cat to sleep for a day or two."
