Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her. It was soft and sweet and clearly restrained yet still sent warmth through her chest. When they pulled apart, she reached up and cupped his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his morning stubble.
"We'll be fine," she said quietly. "You go learn how to keep the Shore safe."
His eyes darkened slightly. "Be careful while I'm gone."
She rolled her eyes. “I think I can handle everything.”
He kissed her once more, quick and light. "I'll call tonight after the kids are in bed."
"We'll be here."
Sandra stood watching until his taillights disappeared, then turned back toward the house where Emma and Toby were indeed at the front window, grinning at her.
"That was gross," Toby announced, but he was still smiling.
"I thought it was sweet," Emma said with a soft smile and pink cheeks.
Sandra laughed and closed the door. "Let’s get homework completed first, then you won’t have anything to do when your dad gets back on Sunday. And while you’re working, I’ll make lasagna tonight. Tomorrow we hit the pool, maybe the beach afterward."
"Yes!" Toby pumped his fist. "Can we get pizza tomorrow night? The kind with pepperoni and those little meatballs?"
"We can get whatever you want."
Emma tilted her head thoughtfully. "Actually, what if we just do the pool tomorrow and save the beach for Sunday? That way, we can really enjoy both instead of rushing."
Sandra felt a warm surge of affection for the girl's practical thinking. "That sounds perfect. Pool Saturday, beach Sunday."
"And pizza both nights?" Toby asked hopefully.
"Don't push it, buddy." The kids grinned, and they each started on their tasks. By the time they’d worked, eaten, had a movie night, and gone to bed, Sandra felt as though she knew their personalities, quirks, and endearments much better. And had a wonderful time learning.
The following morning, Sandra blinked several times, wondering where she was. Then as she inhaled, the sheets carried the faint scent of Terry’s cologne, and she remembered exactly where she was. And she was a little surprised at how much at home she felt. She heard the kids already stirring and jumped into the shower. By the time she arrived in the kitchen, she found them rummaging through the cereal cabinet.
"Morning, you two!" she called.
"Sandra!" Toby bounded over, hair sticking up in three directions. "Can we have French toast again? Your grandmother's secret recipe?"
Emma emerged from behind the cabinet door, already in her swimsuit, with shorts over it. "Toby, she doesn't have to cook every meal."
"But I want to," Sandra said, touched by Emma's consideration. "French toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs. We need fuel for pool day."
"Yes!" Toby pumped his fist, then launched into elaborate descriptions of swimming tricks he planned to show her.
She was so engrossed in listening to their plans that the first pieces of French toast burned, and she had to start over. Emma wanted to work on the scrambled eggs, and while they were slightly rubbery, they finally managed to get breakfast cooked, eaten, and the kitchen cleaned.
Once they arrived at the YMCA pool, Toby immediately spotted a classmate. "There's Jimmy! Can I go swim with him?"
"Of course, but remember what your dad said about listening to the lifeguards."
Toby cannonballed into the water with a spectacular splash, earning a whistle and giving a sheepish grin. Sandra found lounge chairs where she could watch both kids, settling in with a book while Emma alternated between swimming laps and floating peacefully.
Around noon, Toby paddled over, dramatically declaring starvation and pleading for hot dogs sold from the food truck in the parking lot. She agreed, finding the idea of a hot dog, chips, and drink to be the perfect lunch. With their food in hand, they sat at a picnic table, the kids still damp and pleasantly tired from their morning activities.
"You know," Toby said suddenly, looking at Sandra with serious eyes, "I really like hanging out with you. You're fun, but not trying-too-hard fun, you know?"
Sandra felt something warm expand in her chest. "I like hanging out with you too, buddy."
Emma was quieter during lunch, her gaze darting over to a mother braiding her daughter's wet hair with a wistful expression. Sandra was struck by Emma’s situation. While she loved her mom, there wasn’t much time devoted to mother-daughter activities. Emma adored her dad, but there would also be things she wished she could share with a woman. Tucking that thought away, she tossed the trash as they finished and let the kids back into the pool.
