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“It is a lot, though—loving someone who was married to such a public figure, and who still has so much to wade through.”
“She’s getting there,” Molly says defensively. “It is a lot, and she’s been a trouper through it all.”
“Absolutely. No question,” Dexter assures her. “But it’s still hard. They had a whole life, Molly. A marriage, children, accomplishments, betrayals, and there’s still unfinished business there.”
“I do understand the unfinished business part,” Molly says, raising her forefinger. “When Rodney died unexpectedly, he left me with more questions than answers, and with a lifetime of living without him. At first I thought I’d never survive; I didn’teven know how to go about it, except to set sail and see the world, and Ruby has essentially done the same.”
Dexter contemplates this—has she really done the same thing?
“Okay, you’re comparing the two situations,” Molly says, reading his mind. “And no, they’re not identical, but in essence, both of our husbands died unexpectedly. Sure, she was the First Lady and had two daughters to finish raising in front of the entire world, while I was a girl in my twenties with nothing to do but figure out who I was, but picking up the pieces after a tragedy is pretty universal, Ace: you cry and rage against the universe, then you get yourself together and you wash your damn face and get on with it. That part looks different for everyone, but ultimately it needs to be done, right?”
“Okay, I see that,” Dexter allows.
“And she’s doing it. Ruby most definitely cried and raged, and then she washed her face and dealt with the fallout. Her version of sailing the world was to move down here and open the bookstore, and I daresay she’s been braver than most, dealing with that woman who had her husband’s baby and agreeing to write a book with you.”
Molly is absolutely correct about all of that, and Dexter can’t quibble at all. “I so admire her for all of that,” he says.
“Then don’t break her heart,” Molly says plainly. “In any way. Do you hear me?”
“I do, ma’am,” Dexter says, finding himself falling into a position of deference to this woman, who is older than his parents. “And I won’t break her heart.”
Molly stands up and puts both hands in the air for a moment, then pushes in the chair. “Fabulous. Then all you need to do is figure out how to get what you need without ruffling the feathers of a damn fine woman. Good luck, Ace.”
Ruby is in the great room when Dexter gets back to her house. She's pushed the boxes of diaries aside as well as the coffee table, and in their place she's unrolled a lavender yoga mat. Dexter pauses in the doorway and watches her for a minute, admiring her long, lean limbs as she moves into a warrior pose and breathes deeply.
"Oh!" Ruby spots him and breaks her pose, standing up straight. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Sorry," Dexter says, walking into the room fully and perching on the edge of the couch. "I don't want to interrupt your yoga session here. That wasn't my intention."
Ruby leans over and picks up a clear bottle of water, drinking from it thirstily. "Stop. Don't even worry about it. I just wanted to loosen up and clear my head a little before getting down to business." She nods at the boxes with a wary look. "I have days when I truly think I've had enough, but I know that finishing this project is going to be an important step for me."
"Absolutely," Dexter agrees, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. He clasps his hands together and hopes that he doesn't look as nervous as he feels.
"What's going on?" Ruby asks with a frown. She sits on the couch across from him, and in an instant, Dexter knows that he must, in fact, look nervous and ill-at-ease. "Is something wrong?"
Dexter blows out a long breath and looks Ruby in the eye. Lying to her or prolonging the inevitable is just cruel, so he comes right out with it: "I think I need to leave," he says.
"What?" Ruby's face falls. "Leave the island? For a few days?"
"Uhhh. Well." Dexter stands up and paces the room slowly, hands in the pockets of his shorts. "Actually, I think I need to leave for a while and get some space between you, me, and this book."
"I don't understand." Ruby looks confused, and worse, she sounds perturbed. "Distance between you and me?"
"More like you and me...and this book. Us together--our relationship--and this book."
"Huh. Okay." Ruby is clearly processing all of this and still coming up empty-handed.
"I'll be honest with you," Dexter says, stopping where he is and turning to look at her. "My editor emailed and he thinks that I'm cutting corners. He's read a few of the chapters that I've done recently, and he feels like I've gone soft on the project."
"Because of me," Ruby says simply, understanding dawning. "He wants you to be tougher and more clear-eyed about the subject, but you can't because of me."
"I don't know." Dexter's words are quiet, and he looks at the ground. "All I know is that being here with you is amazing--"
"But?" Ruby interrupts, eyebrows raised. She's clearly not about to suffer the injustice of him lobbing her a softball here, and he owes her the dignity of being completely forthcoming.
“But reading Jack's diaries with you, while incredibly insightful for the man writing your late husband's biography, is really difficult for the man who is falling in love with you."
Ruby blinks a few times, her water bottle still frozen in her hand as she looks up at him from her spot on the couch. "Wait--you're in love with me?"
