A kid two tables over tried to balance a lime wedge on his nose while his sister documented him for posterity. Gull cries braided with laughter and the crackle of the flat-top grill. Normal life. Loud and bright.
“I’m gonna put in my order.”
I left them there and stepped to the window, trying not to appear as uncomfortable as I felt among all these people. I didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes. Didn’t want to risk finding someone I knew who might ask questions I didn’t want to answer. When it was my turn, I ordered a couple of the day’s special fish tacos and rejoined Astrid and her students with my tray.
“…N-17 and N-19 both started caving last night,” one of the grad students was saying as I sat. “We logged sand temps at eighty-eight, so I’m betting on a boil in the next forty-eight hours.”
“Make sure the interns know that means watch, not poke,” Astrid said dryly, peeling the wrapper off her fish taco. “Last week I had to confiscate a selfie stick.”
That got a round of laughter.
Priya flashed a smile as she shoved dark hair out of her face and resumed fiddling with the hair tie on her wrist. “At least they didn’t try to ‘help’ a ghost crab out of a burrow again.”
“Small mercies.” Astrid shook her head and took a sip of her drink. Her phone buzzed on the table, the screen smeared with sunscreen fingerprints. She thumbed a quick reply, then set it face-down. “Anyway, tonight’s team will rotate between N-17 and N-19 until midnight. Keep the red filters on your lights, and remember to flag the predation tracks before you fill in.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused in teasing unison.
I smiled into my sweet tea, half-listening, half-watching the way this little crew orbited her—comfortable, competent, full of the kind of unguarded energy that came from doing work you believed in. Their hands moved constantly while they talked: one checking notes on a phone in a waterproof sleeve, another scrolling through photos of tracks in the sand, someone else jotting with a pencil on a crumpled Rite-in-the-Rain notebook.
They looked happy. Certain of their path in life. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like that about anything.
Astrid nudged me with her elbow. “You okay?”
“Just admiring how much smoother your job sounds than mine ever was.”
She rolled her eyes affectionately. “Only because you never had to herd grad students. They eat more than sea turtles.”
When the students finally cleared out, taking their trays, half-finished horchatas, and a cloud of laughter with them, the table felt bigger and quieter.
Astrid leaned back, ankle over knee, and sighed like a woman who’d been running at full speed since sunrise. “God, I love them, but I swear they make me feel ancient.”
I pursed my lips. “You’re thirty.”
“Exactly.” She pointed a chip at me. “Ancient.”
I huffed a laugh and let my shoulders ease a little. “They seem good, though. Happy.”
“They are. It’s a nice change of pace. Most summers I get at least one who thinks data collection is optional and sunscreen is for cowards.”
The breeze caught the edge of the tarp overhead, flapping it like a lazy sail. I watched it for a moment, letting the motion steady me. “You sound happy, too.”
“Can’t complain. Field season keeps me outside, my team’s competent, and I get to come home to air-conditioning and actual showers.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing playfully. “You, on the other hand, look like someone still bracing for impact.”
I winced. “That obvious?”
“To me? Always.” She speared a piece of fish with her fork. “How’s the houseboat?”
“Old, creaky, and exactly what I needed.” Scrubbing the whole thing from fore to aft had been cathartic. She still needed the kind of TLC she’d only get off season and out of the water, but that sense of staleness and abandonment had been banished. I’d even picked up a plant while I was in town this morning.
“Good.” She studied me for a moment, then grinned. “You know, I half expected you to chicken out. You’ve got that L.A. polish now. I thought you might wither in the humidity.”
“I’m acclimating.” I plucked at my sticky blouse. “Slowly.”
Her laughter drew a couple of curious looks from nearby tables, and I fought not to shrink beneath their gazes.
“So, tell me what’s been going on around the island lately.” Better to steer the conversation toward other people.
“Well, you definitely missed a few things while you were gone. Sawyer and Willa eloped last fall.”
