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“Carry on,” June says, resuming her folding.
“Well, he—as most people do, I guess—justified his right to love two women, and once his son was born, he realized that he’d created a whole new off-shoot of himself that would carry on into the future and see things he never would.”
“How very Khalil Gibran of him.”.
“He seemed to really love being a father. I can’t fault him for that part, but he did some real damage to Ruby. What’s crazy is how well she handles it.”
“She’s okay with the whole thing?” June frowns.
“You might think so if you watched her reading the journals or heard her talking, but I have seen her lose it once or twice. There’s anger there, and I know she doesn’t fully understand how he could have done this, but it’s kind of weird that she…I guess that sheacceptsit on some level.”
“Dex,” June says, dropping the dress she’s just folded into an empty laundry basket and moving the pile of already-folded girls’ clothes in as well. “Women accept a lot of things. Every single day. We have to.”
Dexter looks at her sharply. “Such as?”
“Take your pick, dude.” June shifts the laundry basket away and replaces it with another empty one for the boys’ clothing. “Lower pay, catcalls from strange men, weird and creepy comments on photos we post to social media, the idea that because we physically birthed the children, we’re almost totally responsible for their social and emotional development.” June pauses and blows out a breath. “Subpar health care. Do you know any menopausal women who have gone to see a doctor? You should meet some, because you know what they’re told when they go in complaining of insomnia, weight gain, fatigue, emotional distress, hot flashes, etc?”
Wisely, Dexter shakes his head and waits for an answer.
“They’re told that ‘It’s just a part of life. It’ll pass.’ Unless they have an extremely progressive doctor, they can’t get their hands on hormones. No one cares. And do you know why?” Again, Dexter simply waits. “I’ll tell you why: because once a woman can no longer bear children, she’s outgrown her societal value. She’s not sexy. She’s not vital. She’s not relevant. Therefore, eh, let her suffer through the sleepless nights drenched in sweat. Who cares?”
“Junie,” Dexter finally says. “Is this happening to you?” He feels a rush of anger that a doctor might be brushing off the medical concerns of his favorite cousin.
June gives an angry shake of her head. “No, I’m only thirty-four, Dex. I’ve probably got another ten years until itisme. But the women I swim with at the pool are all older than me, and they haven’t spared any detail. It’s pretty shocking.” June flops down on the couch, done folding for the moment. “But anyway, my point is that Ruby probably accepts—on some level—a lot of things simply because women are trained to accept crappy situations, but deep down she feels the same things you would. She might even accept that you had to leave her island and get some space, but don’t you wonder what she’s truly thinking?”
Dexter sits on the carpeted floor and hooks his arms around his knees as he takes a deep breath. “I’m pretty sure I know what she’s thinking.” It’s June’s turn to sit quietly and wait for more. “As I was telling her that I needed to leave Shipwreck Key and get some writing done, the conversation sort of shifted to the fact that, if we stay together, we can never have children.”
June cringes. “Oof.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t even thinking about that, nor do I know how I feel about it. I’ll be honest, Junie, I haven’t ever given it a lot of thought. I’ve been so busy since I graduated from Oxford and I’ve traveled so much and been constantly on the go. I never really imagined a life where I’m settled in Omaha or Buffalo, working for a local newspaper and coming home to a wife and kids.”
June snorts. “I don’t think you’d settle in Omaha.”
“Not the point.” Dexter cocks his head to one side and shoots her a look. “I guess every person contemplates it at some point, right? The whole ‘Do I intentionally settle down and procreate or do I just live my life however it unfolds’ question.”
“Ummmm,” June says, letting her eyes drift up to the ceiling as if she’s really considering this. “I don’t think most of us think of it quite that way. In fact, as women, we sort ofassume—for the most part—that we’ll ‘settle down’ and have kids. Not allof us, of course, and certainly some people know right out the gate that it’s not for them, but I hear you. You just haven’t even confronted it yet.”
“Yeah, I think I got to thirty-five without seriously considering the whole thing, and now I’m in love with a woman who is kind of pushing me to state my intended path, which is weird.”
June lifts her eyebrows at the phrasein love. “But is she making you state it, or is it the fact that this life with her with her would essentially decide it for you that’s making you uncomfortable?”
Dexter shrugs. “I don’t even know. I’m not one to mourn the loss of things I don’t have and never truly desired, but there is a sort of finality to the whole thing, right? Like, I can imagine living happily with a woman I love and cherish and just continuing on with life the way it is: traveling, writing, being with her. But now that she’s brought it to the forefront of my mind, I can also see a life where little people like these guys—” he sweeps his arm broadly at the house to indicate her rambunctious quadruplets, “—or maybe just one or two of these guys, comes running at me when I walk in the door.”
June narrows her eyes as she listens to him. “But,” she says, “the real question is, who do you see standing behind them when you walk in the door? Can you picture her? Do you know her? Even if she’s still a stranger, do you think she can ever make you feel the way that Ruby does? Because that’s important too.”
Dexter thinks about this. He thinks for a long time before he answers. “I don’t know, Junebug. I guess that’s what I need to figure out, huh?”
She nods knowingly. “Yes, Dex. It’s definitely what you need to figure out.”
There’s a quiet moment between them before four sets of feet come stampeding through the house, and the noise decibel rises as the kids descend on the living room.
June stands and clasps her hands together with a deep sigh. “Snack time, Dex. Come to the kitchen and let me make you some peanut butter and banana toast.”
Dexter stands up and follows her to the kitchen. He has a lot to think about.
Ruby
(Undated journal entry from Jack's final diary)
