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"Dex!" she calls out, trying to squash the urge to run to him and jump into his arms. It would be a spectacle if anyone on the boat happened to be watching as she threw herself at the man who is writing a biography about her late husband. So far as anyone else knows, she and Dexter have a professional relationship and nothing more, which, Ruby realizes, isn't far from the truth.
"Hey." He approaches her with a lopsided grin and a hesitant gait.
"Hey," Ruby says back. She's looking up at him and now that they're standing this close she can smell his aftershave mingled with the clean scent of soap and the fresh tang of saltwater and sea air. With an admirable amount of restraint, Ruby stands up on tiptoe and gives him a hug before taking the cellophane-wrapped flowers. "Thank you so much--for the flowers and for coming."
"Wouldn't miss it," he says, looking her in the eyes.
The last time Ruby and Dexter saw one another in person he'd been with her on the beach at Shipwreck Key following an ill-fated trip to France to have a sit-down discussion with the woman who'd given birth to her late husband's child. Things had grown complicated quickly as they stood near the water, and rather than deal with them, Dexter had gone back to New York and they'd continued their work via Zoom calls rather than in person.
But now he's here, and Ruby's heart is hammering against her ribcage like a prisoner trying to escape.
"Dexter," she says, searching for something--anything--to say that will make their last parting feel less awkward. Instead of letting her speak, he offers her an elbow.
"Let's get on that boat and have a drink," he says, tucking her arm into the crook of his as she walks on her flat sandals.
Ruby's hip bumps against his as they walk, and she can feel all the liquid in her body turn to warm honey as he helps her onto the boat. They are the last to board, and within minutes, the captain has blown the horn and they're leaving the dock, bound for an evening on the water with music, dancing, champagne, and hopefully a birthday wish that comes true.
* * *
Ruby holds her plate in one hand as she stands with Sunday and Dexter, talking and laughing while they bob on the waves. Bill Withers is singing "Lovely Day" on the speakers, his voice drifting out over the water, and both of Ruby's daughters, Athena and Harlow, are there, mingling and dancing together as they each hold a glass of champagne in hand, their arms thrown over one another's shoulders.
This is it. This is paradise. After everything that Ruby has gone through, after all the heartache and heartbreak, and after readjusting her life's plans, she's finally found her own happiness. Her eyes sparkle with tears as she leans against the boat's railing, taking in the scene all around her: her neighbors, dancing and talking together, and her beautiful girls, looking carefree at last. Their father's death has left a pall over their lives for the past two years. Pain that was compounded by their own circumstances, and Athena had found herself in a bad situation, entangled with a coworker who was (unbeknownst to her) engaged to be married, while Harlow had gone out to a bar in New York City with her own group of friends, only to nearly be gunned down by a madman on a rampage. She'd lost a good friend that night, and the event had turned her world upside down.
But now, watching her girls as she sips yet another glass of champagne and reminds herself to take the bubbly slow, Ruby feels a sense of peace.I'm fifty, she thinks, resting an elbow on the cool metal railing behind her.I'm fifty, and I own a bookshop on a charming, quaint island,and I have new friends and neighbors and--her eyes skim the deck of the boat until they land on Dexter--maybe someone special in my life?
A wave knocks into the side of the boat, sending a spray of cool saltwater into the air. It lands on Ruby's bare legs and she shivers in delight but steps away from the edge; the last thing she needs is to be wearing a soaking wet white dress at her own party. She laughs at this image: a fifty-year-old former First Lady inadvertently giving her guests a wet t-shirt contest show.
"Hey," Dexter says, sidling up next to her. "You steady on your feet there?"
Ruby smiles up at him, feeling the giddy combination of champagne and moonlight. "I am," she assures him. "I haven't felt this steady in a long time."
Dexter stands beside her, holding a bottle of beer. Since leaving the dock they've already feasted on steak and lobster, on grilled asparagus with shaved parmesan, on buttery garlic mashed potatoes and onion rings with a perfectly crispy outside. Ruby has no idea how the chefs prepared all of this at The Black Pearl and then got it heated and plated in the boat's small kitchen as they crossed the Gulf of Mexico, but they did it, and it was amazing.
Waiting in the wings now is a three layer cake: lemon with fresh raspberry filling on one tier; chocolate cake with chocolate frosting on another; and carrot cake with a cream cheese frosting on the last--that one had been Banks's only request for the entire party, the rest he'd left in Ruby's capable hands, still embarrassed that any of this was for him.
"Do you have your wish all lined up for when it's time to blow out the candles?" Dexter asks mildly, putting the beer to his lips and tipping it back.
It's a loaded question, and Ruby isn't entirely sure which direction to go with it. "Is that a question for you, or one for the book?" She asks, hoping to buy herself a bit more time to think.
"That depends on your answer."
"Hey, doesn't the wish become null and void if I share it?" Ruby's been drinking, but not so much that she's going to lose her chance at a wish coming true.
"I think that's hogwash," Dexter says with an impish grin.
"Maybe making wishes is just hogwash. Maybe none of it means anything." Ruby watches as Harlow talks to Marco Brevin, one of Ruby's favorite people in politics. Young, handsome, and hilarious, Marco has come to the party with his boyfriend, Ethan. She'd promised the younger women that she'd try to invite some eligible men along for the evening, but in the end, she couldn't come up with anyone who wouldn't make the party feel like a dating meat market, and that's not the vibe Ruby wants. So Marco and Ethan have brought their unparalleled wit, charm, and dance moves, and even Tilly looks like she's having a good time as the men take turns asking the younger ladies for a turn on the dance floor.
"Everything means something." Dexter tosses this off casually, and it feels just as glib as it sounds.
Ruby turns her body fully towards him and looks up at his face. She's had just enough champagne to say what's on the tip of her tongue. "What did it mean when you told me you want to kiss me?"
Dexter does not hesitate. "That I want to kiss you."
Ruby looks around as if someone might be listening to their conversation, though no one is. She reaches for Dexter's hand that isn't holding a beer and basically drags him up the stairs and to the top deck of the boat, a small space that is free of partygoers. Beyond the edge of the boat is nothing but dark water and an indigo sky punched through with stars.
Dexter's face is amused as he takes another long pull from his beer. "I'm alone with the birthday girl," he says, watching her with a twinkle in his eyes.
But Ruby isn't smiling. Maybe it's the concept of turning fifty--a milestone, a turning point--but she's finally standing at the precipice of her old life and her new one, and she needs to take a huge leap into the unknown, regardless of where it might take her.
