Her hair was bleached completely white from the sun and her skin was deeply tanned, so dark that her almond-shaped eyes seemed light by comparison.
Her legs were long and graceful, her hips just beginning to round a little and her breasts came full and round against her little girl's bathing suit, more like a sixteen-year-old's.
"May I, Mother?" Rina asked.
"You may," Geraldine nodded. "But be careful, dear, don't swim too far out. I don't want you to tire yourself."
But Rina was already gone. Geraldine Marlowe half smiled to herself.
Rina was like that; she was like none of the other girls Geraldine knew. Rina didn't play like a girl. She could swim and outrun any of the boys that Laddie played with and they knew it.
She didn't pretend to be afraid of the water or hide from the sun. She just didn't care whether her skin was soft and white.
Harrison Marlowe looked up from his paper.
"I have to go up to the city tomorrow. We're closing the Standish loan."
"Yes, dear." The faint, shrill voices of the children floated lazily back toward them. "We'll have to do something about Rina," she said thoughtfully.
"Rina?" he questioned. "What about Rina?"
She turned to him.
"Haven't you noticed?
Our little girl's growing up."
He cleared his throat. "Umm – yes. But she's still a baby."
Geraldine Marlowe smiled.
It was true what they said about fathers. They spoke more about their sons but secretly they delighted in their daughters.
"She's become a woman in the past year," she said.
His face flushed and he looked down at his paper.
In a vague way, he had realized it, but this was the first time they had spoken about it openly.
He looked toward the water, trying to find Rina in the screaming, splashing crowd.
"Don't you think we ought to call her back? It's dangerous for her to be so far out in the deep water."
Geraldine smiled at him.
Poor Harrison. She could read him like a book.
It wasn't the water he was afraid of, it was the boys.
She shook her head.
"No. She's perfectly safe out there.
She can swim like a fish."
His embarrassed gaze met her own.
"Don't you think you ought to have a little talk with her?
Maybe explain some things to her. You know, like I did with Laddie two years ago?" Geraldine's smile turned mischievous. She loved to see her husband, who was usually so sure of himself, positive about his tiniest conviction, flounder around like this.
"Don't be silly, Harry." She laughed. "There's nothing I have to explain to her now.
When a thing like that happens, it's just natural to tell her everything she should know."
"Oh," he said in a relieved voice. She turned thoughtful again. "I think Rina's going to be one of those lucky children who make the transition from adolescence without any of the embarrassing stages," she said.
"There's not the slightest trace of gawkiness about her and her skin is as clear as a bell. Not a sign of a blemish or a pimple. Not like Laddie at all."
She turned back toward the ocean. "Just the same, I think we'd better do something about Rina.
I’d better get her some brassieres."
Marlowe didn't speak.
She turned to him again. "I honestly think her bust is as large as mine already, I do hope it doesn't get too big. She's going to be a very beautiful girl."
He smiled slowly. "Why shouldn't she be?"
She reached for his hand, quietly returning his smile.
They both knew what he meant.
Neither of them ever thought of Rina as anything but their own natural child.
"Would you mind very much if I came into town with you tonight?" she asked softly. "It would be nice to stay in a hotel for one evening."
He pressed her hand. "I think it would be very nice."
"Molly could look after the children," she said. "And I’d have time to do a little shopping tomorrow before we return."
He looked at her and grinned. "I agree with you," he said in a mock-solemn voice.
"The cottage down here is a little crowded. I'll call the hotel and make sure they have a shakerful of Martinis waiting for us the moment we arrive."
She dropped his hand. "You lecher!" she exclaimed, laughing.
Rina swam with easy, purposeful strokes, her eyes fixed on the diving raft out past the rolling surf.