“What the hell were you thinking?” Harry screamed, not even trying to hold back the tears as he fought to catch his breath.
“I got a cramp.” Ruth was dizzy, not entirely comprehending what had just happened. “I tried to call for you, but . . .”
“What do you expect swimming in the ocean when it is so cold? I told you it was too early to come out here! And then you went anyway. Alone?”
“You said ‘no thanks.’ What you always say about spending time with me lately. I—” She coughed, and some spit and salt came out with her breath. “I thought I ought to get used to being by myself since you hate me now.”
“Hate you?” Harry’s dimple appeared on the middle of his left cheek, the dimple he detested because it made it impossible for him to hide when he was really happy. He hugged Ruth as tightly as he could. “Ruthie, you are my best friend. My best family. There is no one in the world more important to me than you.” He looked at her seriously and she saw in his eyes how very wrong she had been. He might fancy Marie, but his deepest bond was to her, as was hers to him. “Ruthie.” He took her pinkie with his own. “I swear to you, no matter what happens, no matter where we are, it is you and me against the world. Always.”
“Always.” She returned the pinkie promise with a nudge on the shoulder and a wide smile.
Chapter Six
After that first trip, Ruth and Robert spent most weekends at Magnolia Bluff. They adored the endless hours in the wood-paneled library, curled on leather club chairs with snifters of brandy in front of the roaring fire. Robert loved that the peace of the shore allowed him to focus on his work beyond the hospital. He planned to present his latest project, a new method to photograph activity in the brain, at the Neurological Congress in London the following summer. Ruth and Robert agreed that this would be an ideal honeymoon, so in spite of how many months away it was, they decided to plan the wedding around the trip. Given their age （and the fact that they were already cohabitating, unbeknownst to her parents）， Ruth would have preferred to get married as soon as possible, but she did love the idea of a “working” honeymoon. And this would give her mother ample time to plan the event.
With Helen Emeraldine at the helm of the planning, Ruth’s wedding, in June of 1935, was the event of the summer season. Ruth took control of the few things that mattered to her. She insisted that she and Robert take their vows in front of the setting sun, with the “aisle” a lane in the crab apple grove, and the “altar” a clearing with views of Oyster Bay across the sound. She also opted to wear a simple white suit by Coco Chanel instead of the sumptuous draped satin gown from Vionnet that Helen advocated for. But, beyond these details, she let her mother have free rein.
The lavish affair showcased Magnolia Bluff in all its glory. After the simple ceremony, the guests moved to the great lawn, where waiters served the increasingly scarce beluga caviar by the pounds, along with buttery baked oysters Rockefeller on silver trays; champagne was served in clean-cut art deco coupes made especially for the occasion by Baccarat, and the string section of the New York Philharmonic played in the background. The cocktail hour was followed by a dinner of Waldorf salad and curried lamb—Robert’s favorite—and dancing in the adjacent ballroom. Helen had secured Louis Armstrong’s orchestra, the one extravagance that Ruth truly appreciated, since the joyful sound of a big band would forever remind her of the moment at the El Morocco when she realized Robert was her destiny.
There were many moments of her wedding that were truly special: seeing Bernard gaze at her with an expression that, almost, looked like pride as she made her way down the aisle on his arm; dancing gleefully with Robert to the swinging sounds of the orchestra until her feet were too sore to stand; and then the toast by Susie. Robert didn’t have many close friends and didn’t speak to his brothers, so they hadn’t had a traditional wedding party. They were each other’s best man and maid of honor and hadn’t anticipated anyone speaking on their behalf. Still, Ruth shouldn’t have been surprised when the petite, spunky redhead stood and began to tap her knife against her wineglass to silence the crowd. This was Susie Davenport, after all.