At breakfast, Gussie had pleaded for someone to take her to the pageant swim but no one had been inclined to do so. “Not this year,” her grandmother said, resignedly, as she passed Gussie the lox.
“But we always go,” Gussie complained, and the grown-ups just looked at each other.
Finally, her father, who was making a rare appearance at the apartment, broke the silence, “Gus-Gus, we always go because Florence always swims it.”
“So?” said Gussie, “I like it no matter what.”
Gussie had always liked attending the pageant swim but it was particularly thrilling last year when Florence had won the whole thing. Gussie and her parents and grandparents had gone down to the beach to witness the spectacle, and everyone had screamed and carried on as Florence made her way out to sea. Gussie could no more pick out her aunt, among the dozens of swimmers, than she could the beak of a bird in the sky but she had continued to yell, “Go Florence!” as the family hurried down the Boardwalk to watch the finish. When Florence emerged from the water, she offered the crowd a thousand-watt smile then ripped off her cap, waving it above her head triumphantly. She’d beaten all the girls, including the girls she’d swum with for the Ambassador Club and the WSA girls who had come down from New York. Mayor Bader gave huge silver trophies to the six best swimmers, three men and three women, and Gussie loved hearing her aunt’s name called last.
“I’m not going to be able to see,” Gussie said to Anna after a tall man in a straw hat moved in front of her.
“You’ll be fine.”
Gussie darted in front of the man just as a gun went off and the swimmers—both men and women—stampeded past her, a flurry of arms and legs flying over the sand.
Last year, Florence had been near the back of the pack but it hadn’t mattered one bit. By the time the first women arrived at the buoy, she was already in the lead.
“Were there this many people here last year?” Anna asked when the last of the swimmers had thrown themselves into the waves and the crowd had quieted slightly.
“More,” Gussie said. The answer didn’t sound right but she liked the idea of the race being better—in every possible way—when Florence had been in the water and her family had been on the sidelines. If Anna didn’t believe her, she didn’t let on.
Gussie could tell Anna liked the race because, as they walked toward the pier, she kept asking questions about it. She wanted to know why the race was called a pageant and what the prize was and how this year’s crop of swimmers compared to previous years’. Gussie answered what she could. When she didn’t know the answer, she just made something up. Anna couldn’t expect her to know everything.
Gussie dragged Anna toward Garden Pier. The pier was lined with shops on either side of its central promenade but the main attraction was the pier’s flower beds, which were crowded with exotic plants and dotted with gazebos and even a small pond. At the end of the pier sat a large exhibition hall that blocked Anna and Gussie’s view of the ocean.
“Shouldn’t we just wait on the beach?” asked Anna. “That way we’ll be sure to see everyone exit the water.”
“There’s a bit of pier around back,” said Gussie as she navigated the crowded promenade. What she didn’t tell Anna was that she thought it likely Stuart would be at the end of the pier. It’s where he had stationed himself last year, after he’d seen Florence off at the start.
When they had made their way behind the exhibition hall, Gussie scanned the crowd, looking for Stuart’s head of blond hair. It took several minutes before she spotted him, standing amid a big group of lifeguards who were whooping and hollering over the railing.
Gussie raised her hand in the air and called to Stuart, and she thought she saw him turn his head but then Anna tugged at her hand to let a group of children pass, and by the time she had a view of the railing again, Stuart had disappeared. Where could he have gone? Surely, he’d seen her?
A terrible thought occurred to Gussie. Could Stuart be avoiding her? Her stomach grew queasy. It had taken her the better part of a week to work up the nerve to ask him to marry her, and she had spent an entire afternoon painting the pair of sea horses, which she had forgotten to explain, when she gave the rock to him, were actually Stuart and Gussie. If she had explained, he might have asked why she’d painted sea horses instead of people, and she didn’t want to get into that. Everyone knew it was extremely difficult to paint people who looked like people. Sea horses were much easier. How often did anyone see a real sea horse up close? Not very often.
Sea horses or no sea horses, Gussie had been pleased with Stuart’s response to her proposal. She hadn’t expected them to marry immediately, so she wasn’t put off by waiting until she was grown-up. But maybe all his talk about marrying her when she was older was just his way of saying no. Like how, when she asked her mother if she could buy penny candy at Fralinger’s, the answer was always “Later.” Could it be that he didn’t really want to marry her at all?
When Anna eventually let go of Gussie’s hand, Gussie circled back around the exhibition hall, toward the promenade, to see if she could catch Stuart. It seemed unlikely that he’d pop into one of the shops on the arcade but maybe he had gotten stuck talking to someone on his way back to the beach. She checked the amphitheater and each of the little gazebos near the pier’s entrance before she realized that she’d forgotten about Anna, who would be furious
