Florence Adler Swims Forever(81)
“How much is it?”
“Three dollars.”
Anna felt a stab of guilt, thinking about the money. But it was a beautiful suit, dazzling even. “I’ll take it.”
At the counter, the salesgirl folded the suit carefully, wrapped it in tissue paper, and tucked it away in a brown box, which she tied tight with a piece of twine. Anna took the box and thanked her, then ran back to the apartment, so eager was she to lay eyes on the suit once more.
Back at the Adlers’, Anna went straight to her bedroom. She tossed her purse on Florence’s bed and sank onto her own, where she wasted no time tearing open the box’s neat packaging. The bathing suit was as beautiful as it had been in the store, and most important of all, it had never belonged to Florence.
Anna went to the radiator and retrieved Florence’s suit from its hiding place. She walked with it over to Florence’s dresser, rubbing the nubby material between her fingers. After she had brought it to her lips for a brief moment, she folded it carefully and tucked it away in the same drawer where she’d found it.
* * *
When Anna arrived at the beach tent the following evening for her regularly scheduled lesson, Stuart surprised her. “I thought we’d graduate you to the ocean. See how you do in the waves.”
“No pool?”
“No pool,” he said, cuffing her lightly in the arm.
Anna liked The Covington’s pool, liked the quiet seclusion of their little bowl of water. There had to be a hundred or more hotel rooms with views of the pool deck but when she was in the water with Stuart, dusk wrapping itself around their wet shoulders, she felt protected, safe.
“But first,” said Stuart, “can I drag you out for a drink with a bunch of the guys from my old beach tent? Everyone’s meeting at Bert’s.”
“Is tonight a bad night?” Anna asked, thinking of the emerald-green bathing suit she wore under her dress. “We don’t have to—”
“No, I want you to come.”
It had been more than a month since Stuart had given Anna her first swimming lesson, and in that time, they’d never gone anywhere but The Covington’s pool. He walked her home each night, all the way to the sidewalk in front of the apartment. There had been several nights when they had walked past a crowded diner and she had been tempted to ask if he wanted to stop. But asking had always felt too forward, as if she were extending the relationship beyond its natural bounds and possibly even trying to usurp Florence’s role in his life. Florence was the one, she imagined, who squeezed into diner booths with Stuart, sipping coffee and sharing slices of pie.
Bert’s was located on the Boardwalk, close to the Maryland Avenue beach tent, and by the time Stuart and Anna arrived, a bunch of guys and a handful of girls had already pushed several small cocktail tables together and ordered a round of drinks. Stuart procured two chairs from an empty table nearby, and Anna watched as everyone at one end of the seating arrangement moved their own chairs to make room for him. Anna felt sure people had been happily making room for Stuart his whole life.
Stuart pulled out Anna’s chair, and she sat down in it. “Anna, this is Charles Kelly,” Stuart said, introducing the man to his left. Charles was accompanied by a pretty girl Stuart didn’t know.
“I’m Lillian,” said the girl, reaching her hand across the table.
Anna extended hers. “Pleased to meet you.”
Stuart continued around the table, introducing her to a half-dozen members of the ACBP. When he got all the way around the table, he clapped the shoulders of the man who sat on Anna’s other side and said, “And this is Irish Dan, the craziest son of a gun you’ll ever meet.” Irish Dan removed an imaginary hat from the top of his head and tipped it toward her.
Anna bent her head low, pretending to curtsy. “No surname for you?”
“Doyle,” he said and stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“What makes you so crazy?” she asked, idly, as Stuart took a seat and ordered two beers.
“I have a habit of reacting first, and thinking things through later.”
“That doesn’t sound so crazy.”
“Stuart,” Irish Dan said, raising his voice so as to be heard over the other conversations, “I like this girl.”
Stuart smiled, winked at Anna, and said, “Me too.”
The chairs were pushed close, and Anna was acutely aware of the number of inches that separated Stuart from her. If she moved her knee, even slightly, it might knock against his. Did he think about these sorts of things, too?
Their beers arrived and Stuart handed Anna hers, icy cold in the bottle. “Cheers,” he said as they clinked the bottlenecks. She took a short sip.
“You two going to the Lifeguard Ball?” Lillian asked. Anna was fairly certain Charles kicked his date under the table because a moment later, Lillian looked at him apologetically and said, “I was just asking.”
Anna didn’t know what the Lifeguard Ball was and certainly didn’t know how to answer the question, so she was relieved when Stuart didn’t miss a beat. “I haven’t asked her yet but I’m hoping so.” Anna turned in her chair to look at him. “It’s at the end of the summer. Will you come?” he asked quietly.
She didn’t know what to say, especially in front of so many people she didn’t know, so she just said, “Yes.”