Two moms call their kids back forsnack time.
A third declares they’re going to be late for their hiking trip.
They all file away after that, taking their toys and leaving me with a bunch of destroyed sand volcanoes and the watchful eyes of mybabysitteron me.
“You gonna sit there all day and pretend you’re not watching me?” I say to the ocean while I try to rebuild a volcano.
Don’t expect her to answer. Waves aren’t quiet, and I’m facing away.
But she’s right behind me, and she definitely heard. “No, I thought I’d join you and help smooth out the sand again.”
I twist around to look at her.Smooth out the sand? “Or we can build a sandcastle.”
She stares at me like I’ve just lost the last of my marbles.
And I double down.
If I have to have a babysitter, I’m setting the terms, and these are my terms.
“It’s calledfun,” I prompt. “Playing in the sand? Building something? Using your imagination? C’mon. Let’s build a sandcastle.”
Her nose twitches and she studies me like there’s some kind of hidden message in my invitation to make a sandcastle.
Or maybe like she thinks I’m acting like a child and doesn’t want to say it out loud.
“Sandcastles aren’t just for kids,” I say.
“I didn’t say they were.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
She doesn’t sound sure.
She sounds like she just can’t handle the idea of me being right.
Forget this. I can have fun another way. I sigh and scrub my hand over my face. “Can you please consider, for one minute, that—ow.”
Fuck.
My eyeball suddenly hurts.
I blink. Stare down and blink some more while my eye waters and burns.
I lift my hand to swipe at it, but Delaney grabs it before I can make contact.
“Did you just get sand in your eye?”
“No.” Yes.
“Let me see.”
“No.”
“Theo.”
“I’ve got this.” Ow owow. Fuck.Fuck. My eyeball hurts. Not as much as my pride at the moment, though, which is a sure sign the swim and a morning playing with kids isstillnot enough to make me get over my reactions to Laney whenever she’s around.
