Page 108 of Summer Longing
Ben turned his chair around to face her more directly. “Is something going on with you two? She’s barely been at the house and I suggested she invite you to dinner with us the other night and she said no.”
He wanted her to go to dinner with them? And Olivia had said no? Oh, the news was such a double-edged sword. “We’re having a disagreement about something. We’ll work it out,” she said. And then, to change the subject: “So how was the writing class overall? Worth the extra time out here?”
“I owe you a thank-you for pushing me to do it.”
Ruth beamed. “Does this mean you’re ready to embark on your second career as a playwright?”
“Actually, it confirmed that I was smart to go to medical school.”
“Oh, Ben. I’m sure that’s not true. I read your work all those years ago. It was good!”
He smiled warmly at her. “Ruth, I’m content with my life. And I hope you are too. I really do.”
A seagull wandered close, nearly stepping on her blanket. Ruth started to say that yes, she was content with her life, of course she was.
“I’m not,” she said. “I think we made a big mistake eighteen years ago with the divorce.” Looking up at him, the sun in her eyes, she couldn’t read his expression.
“Ruth,” he said, shaking his head slowly.
“We were both so busy and tired and stressed out. I was spending too much time at work, yes, I’ll admit it. But we made a decision based on the misconception that it would always be that way. The way we felt that year or two—it would have passed. It has passed. Look at us now.”
“Yes, we’ve managed to find our way to a friendship. I’m very happy about that. But it doesn’t mean we should have been married for the past decade and a half.”
“I still have feelings for you,” she said.
“Oh, Ruth.”
“You don’t feel anything?” Decades ago, years ago, she could never have asked such a thing. Her pride would have come first. But she was the older, wiser version of herself. Age did not have many upsides, but maybe, just maybe, wisdom and a little more courage were two of them.
“Ruth, I care about you. I do. But as my co-parent. And asyourco-parent, I’m asking that you focus your energy on fixing whatever is going on between you and Olivia.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Carnival day dawned bright and hot, perfect parade weather. The theme: Mardi Gras by the Sea. Commercial Street was transformed into a wonderland; everywhere you looked, you were met with a flash of tulle, glitter, or feathers. The costumes created a riot of color, and the town was packed end to end with revelers young and old, native and tourist, gay and straight. Perched on the porch steps of Tea by the Sea, Elise and Fern had a front-row seat. They’d draped a big banner in front of the store that readHAPPY FORTIETH CARNIVAL!and handed out free iced tea to the people on the floats.
An hour after the parade ended, the costumes kept coming. A troupe of men dressed in Café Du Monde T-shirts, Speedos, and yellow knee-high socks glided past on roller skates. Behind them were two old women in long black dresses holding black parasols above their heads; their faces were covered in heavy stage makeup, and ropes and ropes of Mardi Gras beads hung around their necks. The beads were everywhere, in fact; even dogs on leashes were sporting a necklace or two.
A small group of police walked by, the only people not in costume. Brian Correia spotted the two of them and waved. Elise glanced at Fern but saw no indication of discomfort or concern on her face.Don’t worry about anything today,Elise told herself.It’s a celebration.
Fern, holding Mira, noticed the baby’s eyes fluttering closed and gently placed her in the car seat resting between them.
“All the excitement has her tuckered out,” Fern said, smiling tenderly at the infant.
When the parade began, Mira had been alert and excited, kicking up her legs and waving her arms at the sound of the music. In the past few weeks she had become markedly, adorably more interested in the world around her.
Two women strolled past arm in arm, each one in a red bedazzled bikini top, red fishnet stockings anchored with a bedazzled belt, a long red train, and red platform heels. Their heads were topped with lobster hats, their hands covered in claw gloves.
“Wow. I’m loving the lobster costumes. Maybe we should have done that instead?” Fern said. They would be dressed as mermaids for Amelia’s party tonight, wearing matching green sequined tube tops and tails Elise had ordered online that fit over their shorts and had an opening at the bottom to facilitate walking. Elise had also made matching green-sequined eye masks and found a mermaid onesie for Mira to wear to the party.
“She’s really out,” Elise said, adjusting the hood of the car seat. “Do you want to bring her in for a nap and, I don’t know, hang out, just the two of us?”
Although she and Fern seemed to be back on track since the holiday last month, they still didn’t have enough time alone together. Elise felt Fern’s affection; she felt they were in sync and, for the first time in a long time, really working toward the same thing on all fronts, yet their physical intimacy had dropped off. This time, it was not Elise’s doing. Fern fell asleep as soon as they climbed into bed every night.
Fern smiled at her, stood up, and brushed off a purple feather that clung to her sundress. Her Mardi Gras beads clinked together. “I’m actually going to head up to catch a quick nap. Need to get my second wind for the party tonight.” She kissed Elise on the forehead and walked inside. Elise looked after her, worry settling in the pit of her stomach, and a voice in her head telling her something was off—a voice that could not be drowned out even by the celebratory noise surrounding her.
Ruth was not a big costume person.
Even when Olivia was little and Ruth had been expected to dress up in a festive Halloween costume, she’d phoned it in with a simple witch hat or devil horns. So when Amelia’s Carnival invitation arrived at Shell Haven withNo costume, no entryat the bottom, she hesitated to accept.
