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He stretches his arms overhead and walks all the way to Seadog Lane, where he makes a beeline for The Scuttlebutt.
"Caught in a thunderstorm, were you, Ace?" Molly looks at his sweaty shirt with disdain, and Dexter takes a step back from the counter.
"Sorry, I went for a run," Dexter offers lamely. "I should have gone home and showered first, but I was hoping to get a cup of coffee to go."
"You can sit," Molly nods at the still-empty coffee shop. "No customers for you to scare off yet, and I'm an old broad who spent a month at a time alone on a boat in her twenties. I'm sure I've smelled worse."
Dexter laughs. "I doubt that. But thanks, Molly. Could I just get a cup of black coffee?" He pats his running shorts and then realizes with a laugh that he's got no wallet on him. "Oops."
One side of Molly's mouth pulls up at the corner with amusement. "In a tight spot, are you? Well, this one's on the house. Gotta keep our resident reporter caffeinated.”
Dexter takes the coffee and sits at a table that's several steps from the counter, trying not to offend Molly with his damp shirt and hair.
"I may not be the resident reporter for much longer," he says, testing the waters with this statement as he sips the hot, black coffee. "I think I should probably take my work elsewhere and focus without distraction."
Molly lifts one eyebrow and wipes down her counter. "Oh?"
"Yeah," Dexter says as he glances out the window at the main street. Banks is driving down the road in a golf cart, though he has neither Ruby nor Sunday at his side. "I think I need a little distance from the whole project in order to write about it objectively."
"Getting a little subjective?"
"A little," he admits. Dexter runs a hand through his hair and takes a moment to appreciate the overhead fan and the air conditioning inside the coffee shop. "I think the real issue I'm having is that--"
"You love Ruby," Molly interjects.
"Well...yeah," Dexter admits. "I do. I'm very fond of her."
"And it's making it hard for you to write this stuff about her husband without worrying that you're upsetting her."
"Partially," he says, nodding. "But also that I'm completely surrounded by the story and the subject day and night. I love being here with Ruby, but reading Jack's diaries with her--while fascinating and insightful--makes it feel like it's not just the two of us here."
"But all three of you. And no one wants their lover's dead husband hanging around the house."
Dexter laughs at her bluntness. "Yes. That's true. Absolutely."
There is an amiable silence between them as Molly moves around behind the counter, setting out the day's pastries and muffins. Dexter drinks his coffee and thinks.
"So what are you going to do?" Molly finally prods him. "Leave?"
It makes Dexter uncomfortable to imagine the conversation he's going to have to have with Ruby about the way their relationship is impacting his work. "I think so," he says. "I have to get this book right. I mean, I want to get things right with Ruby as well, but writing is my livelihood. I've accepted a good-sized advance on this book with the promise that I'll do my very best work, and now I need to deliver."
"Makes sense," Molly says mildly. She closes the pastry case and walks around to where Dexter is sitting. "You do have an obligation to your work--I understand that. But if you'll entertain the musings of an old lady for a moment, then I have one other thing to say."
"Of course," Dexter says, nodding at the chair across from his. "I wouldn't dream of turning down a piece of wisdom from someone who has seen more than I have."
Molly slides out the chair and sits down. She folds her hands together and lets her shoulders roll forward a bit as she centers her gaze on Dexter. “Listen,” she says. Her eyes are serious. “So far as we know, we only get to do this thing once—just once. And the people we meet who we can truly love are few and far between.” Molly sits up straighter and leans back in her chair. “Oh, when you’re young you always think there are infinite numbers of humans you might bump into and fall madly in love with, but…Dexter, my dear, that’s simply not true.” Molly shakes her head at him sadly like she’s just been the one to inform him that there is no Santa Claus.
Dexter nods. “I’ve found this to be true.”
“A person who you feel something for and who also feels something for you—that’s rare.” Molly folds her arms across her chest. “A true, loving connection with another human being is something to be cherished, and while I might be overstepping my bounds to say so, I feel like you and Ruby have that kind of connection. Just by observing the two of you, I can tell that you’ve got a real meeting of the minds thing going on. You’re both smart, curious, accomplished, and—if I may say so—gorgeous. Neither of you seems to care one whit about your little age difference, and you make each other laugh. That’s important.”
Dexter is still nodding; he knows that every word Molly is saying is true.
“So go if you must, but please, I’m begging you, make sure that my dear friend Ruby understands every angle of your reasoning. Make sure she knows it’s for work purposes, and not because you’re uncertain about her. Unless that’s an issue,” Molly adds, making a little face like she hopes that part is wrong.
“It’s not her,” Dexter assures her. “I really care for Ruby. I love and admire her.”
“I can tell.”
