“I went looking for you at the States Avenue stand but they said you’d been booted down the beach.”
He wagged his head in the direction of The Covington. “Long story. And one that’s probably best told from the stern of a boat.”
“Stuart coaches the Ambassador Swim Club in the off-season,” Florence said to Anna. “Spent four years ordering me around.”
“A lot of good it did,” said Stuart.
“He’s a monster,” Florence said to Anna, which Gussie knew was not actually true. It bothered her when grown-ups said the opposite of what they meant.
“So, you’re really going to do it?” he asked Florence when everyone’s smiles had faded from their faces.
“I am.”
“How’s the training been going?”
“Fine, good. I’m in the pool all the time, so it’s been good to get back in the ocean.”
Gussie wondered if Anna even knew about Florence’s plan. She was about to say something when Anna asked, “Is there a competition?”
“Just with myself,” Florence said with a laugh.
“She’s going to swim the English Channel,” said Stuart.
Florence corrected him, “Attempt to swim the English Channel.”
“Don’t pretend to be modest,” he said. “We can all see right through you.”
Florence reached over, touched Anna’s arm, and whispered, in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t listen to him,” and to Gussie’s great surprise, Anna laughed. The noise was so foreign, Gussie didn’t know quite what to make of it. Anna had arrived in Atlantic City in March—Joseph had driven up to Jersey City to collect her from the ferry terminal—and, in all that time, Gussie had never seen her eyes so much as twinkle.
Florence turned serious. “Stuart’s actually been a big help.”
“Might not want to give me too much credit until you make it across.”
“How long does it take to swim the whole thing?” Anna asked.
“Trudy Ederle did it in a little over fourteen hours. I’m hoping to do it in under twelve.”
“That’s a long time in the water,” said Anna.
Gussie was desperate to contribute to the conversation. “Florence says your tongue swells up like a balloon.”
“Is that true?” said Anna.
Florence shrugged her shoulders. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“She’ll be great,” said Stuart. “By the time I’m through with her this summer, she might as well fly across.”
“Do you start in England or France?” Anna asked.
“France,” said Florence. “Cape Gris-Nez. The tide’s a little more forgiving if you swim toward Dover.”
“So, will you go to France, too?” Anna asked Stuart.
Stuart looked as if he were about to say something but Florence cut him off. “Over my father’s dead body. Both he and Mother think it would be completely improper.”
“Once she gets to France, she’s got Bill Burgess. He’s world class. She won’t need me.”
“Not true,” said Florence.
Something about the easy way Florence, Stuart, and even Anna talked made Gussie yearn to be a grown-up. As she watched them, she practiced resting a hand on her hip and using the other to make big, important gestures. Stuart crossed his arms at his chest, and she tried that, too, but it didn’t feel as natural. Eventually, when he noticed she was mimicking him, he winked at her and she tied her arms in knots behind her back.
Stuart looked at his wrist but must have realized he wasn’t wearing a watch. “I’ve got to get back. Meet me at the Kentucky Avenue stand tomorrow morning at six?” he said to Florence. “I’ll tail you in the boat for a couple of hours.”
Florence didn’t say anything, just lifted her chin, which Gussie interpreted as a yes.
“It was nice to meet you,” Anna said to Stuart as he prepared to depart.
“You too.”
Gussie went to say her own good-bye but Stuart had already begun to jog back toward the Boardwalk.
“He seems nice,” Anna said to Florence once he was well out of earshot. “And also completely in love with you.”
“Stuart?” said Florence, as if she’d never entertained the possibility. “God, no. Now, where did I put my cap?”
Gussie, who’d had it the whole time, handed it to her begrudgingly.
“Do you mind watching Gussie until my parents get back?” Florence said to Anna as she stretched the rubber taut and yanked the cap over her hair.
Gussie couldn’t help feeling annoyed. It had been her idea to go to the beach, and now she was stuck with Anna, who was unlikely to pretend to be a mermaid or much of anything else if she couldn’t even be bothered to change into a proper bathing suit.
“You’re swimming tomorrow morning. With Stuart.” Gussie pleaded with Florence, in a last-ditch effort to redeem the afternoon. But her aunt wasn’t hearing her. She just tucked the last wisps of her hair underneath the bathing cap, blew her a kiss, and headed off in the direction of the ocean.
Gussie watched as Florence waded into the water, past her knees and then her hips. She dove into the crest of a wave, and by the time Gussie could see her again, she was swimming. Florence reminded Gussie of the dolphins they sometimes spotted offshore, so graceful they barely looked like they were moving. She watched her for several more minutes, as she grew smaller and smaller. Eventually, all Gussie could make out against the horizon was Florence’s red bathing cap, and then nothing at all.
Gussie was back in the water, eyes trained on the sky, when she heard three short whistles. She got her feet under her in time to watch one of the lifeguards in the stand nearest them run toward Garden Pier. There, two other lifeguards heaved a rescue boat into the waves.
“Gussie,” Anna called. “Get out. Now.”
It took a moment for Gussie to shake the water out of her ears. Had she heard her correctly? The beach seemed unnaturally quiet, as if she were watching a film with no sound.
She looked up the beach and watched as her grandparents ambled toward them.
“Where’s Florence?” Esther asked in a loud enough voice to be heard over the sound of the breaking waves.
Anna responded. “She went for a swim.”
“When?”
“Maybe an hour ago.”
Gussie watched as
