“I was on my way to get a bite before work,” he said as he placed the thermos down for a moment and pulled the shirt over his head.
“We won’t keep you,” said Esther.
“No, no. I have time,” he said quickly. “I was just trying to make excuses for being half-dressed. Is what I’m wearing all right?”
“You’re absolutely fine,” said Joseph.
Esther nodded, although it was hard to tell whether she was acknowledging that his attire looked passable or that she was simply ready for the family to set off again.
Stuart didn’t know the etiquette for a situation such as this. Ordinarily, he’d have tried to make polite conversation, but if this walk was religious in nature, it would surely be more appropriate to say nothing. He walked in silence for several minutes, studying the back of Joseph’s and Esther’s heads as they made their way north. As they approached States Avenue, they slowed their pace and crossed the wide Boardwalk. Esther gripped the railing with both hands and looked out at the ocean.
It made sense that the family would come here, to the spot where they’d last seen Florence alive. It was early, not yet ten, and the beach was still quiet. In a little while, the lifeguards would arrive, drag their stands down to the water’s edge, and give their whistles a long blast to signal that it was safe to swim.
Stuart knew the guards who had been assigned to the States Avenue stand this summer. Bing Johnson and Neil Farmer were both good guys but neither of them had half Stuart’s experience. Stuart had gone looking for them last Sunday night, after he’d talked to Esther. When he found them, at a beloved bar not far from the Virginia Avenue Hospital Tent, he’d delivered her message—asked them not to say anything about who the victim was—but he’d also asked them to describe the save to him in detail. “She only struggled for a minute,” said Bing, who was on what looked to be his fourth bourbon and water. “By the time we reached her, she was already unconscious.”
Stuart had wanted answers but neither Bing nor Neil could provide anything concrete. If only Stuart had been at the States Avenue stand, like usual. He might have gotten to Florence faster. Or she might never have gone for a swim in the first place, content to spend her afternoon shouting wisecracks at him from the ground below.
Esther shook her head back and forth, as if she were shaking the image of her daughter’s dead body from her mind. Joseph guided her away from the railing. Isaac and Gussie followed, and Anna and Stuart brought up the rear. Stuart intentionally slowed his pace, allowing a comfortable distance to grow between Isaac and him.
“I suppose you didn’t have the chance to get to know her very well,” said Stuart.
Anna didn’t say anything.
“She was special. Different. Not like all the other girls around here.”
Anna nodded, then wiped at her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, no. You’re right to want to talk about her.”
They passed a fortune-teller’s booth that advertised two-dollar tarot card readings.
“It must be hard to be in the middle of all this. Especially when you hardly know the family.”
“It’s not so bad,” she said. “For the first time in three months, I feel useful.”
“I’m sure you’ve been a big help.”
“Esther reminds me of my mother in many ways.”
“You must miss her,” said Stuart. “Your mother.”
“Yes.”
“Is it true that Mr. Adler and your mother were sweethearts back in Europe?”
Anna’s eyes grew wide.
Stuart realized he’d overstepped. “Or maybe that’s just what Florence thought.”
Anna laughed out loud.
“What?” asked Stuart, grinning. “Is it funny to imagine them as sweethearts or funny to imagine Florence pondering the match?”
“Maybe both?”
“You were the subject of several letters home.”
“I can’t imagine what Florence must have thought,” she said. “A strange girl arrives out of nowhere. She’s not even a distant cousin, and suddenly she’s living in her old bedroom.”
“No one was complaining,” he said, wishing he could catch her eye. He got the impression that she considered herself to be a nuisance.
At Virginia Avenue, the family passed the hospital tent but no one acknowledged it.
“So, you can neither confirm nor deny Florence’s hunch?”
Anna smiled. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not to breathe a word.”
He held up three fingers.
“They were engaged.”
Stuart couldn’t hide his surprise, didn’t try. “Mr. Adler and your mother?”
Anna nodded her head. “My suspicion is that he broke it off when he met Esther.”
“Fascinating.”
“I know.”
“Do you think he still loves her?”
“Who? My mother?”
“Sure.”
“I would assume not,” Anna said, as if she’d never considered the question, much less its answer. “Not that it really matters.”
“Of course it matters.”
Anna raised her eyebrows in amusement. She started to say something, and then stopped herself, pressed her lips together.
“What were you going to say?” Stuart asked.
“Nothing.”
“Something.”
“It’s just that,” said Anna, “sometimes, when he looks at me, I get the feeling he’s rearranging my features, trying to recall my mother’s face.”
Stuart had nothing smart to say to that. He thought of the grainy photograph of Florence that had run in the Press, after she swam around the island last summer. It had captured her perfectly but he liked to think that, even in thirty years’ time, he wouldn’t need it to aid his recollection.
The procession came to a halt in front of the James Candy Company. A woman, whom Stuart didn’t recognize, stopped Esther, and as he and Anna neared, he could hear her asking after the family.
“And how’s your daughter?”
Esther’s face crumpled.
“Still resting comfortably?”
“Oh, Fannie. Yes, still in the hospital. I think she’s probably a little bored but so far, so good.
“Wonderful. And Florence? Still swimming every chance she gets?”
Stuart watched Esther visibly swallow.
Isaac, who hadn’t even looked as if he were paying attention to the
