Me: Yes. Bring snacks.
Gregory: What kind of snacks?
Me: Good ones.
“I ask for good snacks, and you bring me nuts?”
It’s a gorgeous summer day with a bright blue sky and not a single cloud in sight. It’s starting to get warmer—in the low eighties today—but the water’s still a little chilly, so I told Gregory not to worry about a swimsuit.
I get the feeling I’m gonna need to ease him in.
He showed up at the pier in navy-blue shorts and a whiteT-shirt, with a black backpack slung over his shoulder and a wary look in his eye. I pointed him to the beach, and we walked until I found a less-crowded section I was happy with. I’d spread my tie-dye beach blanket on the ground and had just finished tucking sand into the corner pouches to keep it in place when Gregory began unpacking his bag.
He holds up the paper bag, the word “NUTSACK” printed across it in bold, black letters. “This is thebestsnack.”
“Where’s the watermelon? Potato chips? Popsicles? What kind of person, while hanging out at the beach, thinks ‘Mmm, a handful of walnuts would really hit the spot right now’?”
Gregory’s hand shoots up into the air.
I sigh.
Arm still raised, Gregory says, “For your information these aren’t walnuts.”
“What are they?”
“Pecans.”
“Oh my God.”
“Will you put away that judgey face and just try one, please?”
“Fine,” I say, and hold out my hand.
Gregory smiles and nods once, like he’s won something, and opens the bag. He shakes a few pieces out into my palm, and I put one into my mouth.
Dammit. They’re good. Really good. Crunchy and lightly salted and oddly satisfying.
I eat the other two and put my hand out again with a huff.
Gregory grins and gives me more. I half expect him to say,Told you so, but he just shakes some pecans into his own hand and tosses them into his mouth.
“Is this an Arizona thing?” I ask.
He nods as he folds the top over the bag and tucks it into his backpack. “It’s a local company. And they were my dad’s favorite.”
“Well, now they’re my favorite too.”
His smile grows. “Really?”
I hold up a finger. “Favorite nut. I still maintain that watermelon is the superior beach snack.”
“Didn’t have any.”
I shrug. “Now you know for next time.”
“Fine. I’ll bring a Nutsack and a watermelon.”
At that exact moment a woman and a young boy walk past. He looks like he’s around five years old, and he looks up at the woman and loudly asks, “Mom, what’s a nut sack?”
