They sound more like teens than two boys barely out of toddlerhood.
I’m not responsible for their mouths, but I’ll proudly take full credit for teaching them to longboard last summer. It started when I took them riding when they were barely able to walk each time I came home to visit. I’ve done it with all my grandkids. But I swear, these boys were naturals once they got their own boards and could practice regularly.
One good thing that came from growing up in this tiny beach town and living on the edge of the promenade was longboarding. Before I discovered girls, it was how I spent every waking moment as a kid—well, that and surfing. But I’m not ready to teach my grandkids how to surf just yet. Their parents can do that when they’re ready. Some of my daughters still surf regularly, but I’m not sure Sloane has done much of it since having her boys.
“Papa, you should’ve brought your board,” Josh calls out, getting my attention.
“Next time, buddy. I’m good jogging beside you for now. Are you two about ready to head home for dinner?”
“Not yet,” Josh blurts, picking up speed again and darting forward, leaving us in the dust.
“Can we make s’mores?” Jason asks eagerly.
“If you eat a good dinner, I might be able to make that happen,” I hedge.
I learned long ago never to promise anything I can’t deliver.
Fortunately for them, I always keep a stash of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers on the top shelf in the pantry for special occasions like this. It’s well out of sight and is something I love surprising them with. Between that and blueberries in the freezer for pancakes in the morning, I’m always prepared for almost anything they throw at me. If not, I make sure I have it the next time they visit.
After missing so much of their childhood while being in the Air Force, I’ve made it my mission to make up for lost time. My mom was the best grandparent imaginable, and I’m doing my best to live up to the high bar she’s set.
I’ll never forget the day she punched her hands into her hips and told me in no uncertain terms, “It’s a grandparent’s prerogative to have special traditions with my grandbabies.”
Since I consider her to be the top role model when it comes to grandparenting multiple grandkids, I’ve made making memories like longboarding and s’mores something every one of my grandkids can count on when it comes to this papa.
I wonder what Faye would think of them.
She adored kids when we were younger. Does she still feel the same?
Obviously, we didn’t spend much time getting into deep conversation last night, but now that I’m away from her, I’m curious about her story.
How on earth is she single and here in Seaside of all places?
Beyond work, I’m dying to know what she’s been up to for the past thirty years.
Sure, with a few swipes of my fingers, I could find out most of this on my own, thanks to my contacts with Riggs, but my gut tells me it’s best to hear the full story from Faye, rather than do a deep dive into her private life.
As twitchy as I am to fill the gaps, she needs to tell me in her own due time.
“Papa!” Jason calls out, forcing me to stop thinking about Faye for the millionth time since parting this morning.
“What’s up, Jay?” I ask as I purposely dart my eyes around him in search of any potential danger. It’s unusual for him to shout in this tone at me.
Without missing a beat as he zips down the sidewalk, he rubs his stomach for emphasis and hollers, “I’m hungry.”
Waiting until we safely pass the young family out for a summer evening stroll, I call out so Josh can hear. “Let’s turn around. It’s time to head home.”
Once I’m sure Josh has slowed and is heading this way, Jason and I stop to wait for him. Then, as soon as they’re both pointed in the right direction, I quickly drop a challenge I know they won’t refuse. “Who wants to race home and get dinner started?”
“Can we help cook?” Josh asks with such eagerness there’s no way I’d refuse his request.
“Of course. How else will you do it for yourself someday?”
“Papa,” Josh adorably huffs in exasperation. “I’m five. Momma says we can’t cook without a grown-up.”
Shit, he’s got me there.
Smacking my forehead as if that thought never crossed my mind, I grin and exaggeratedly shake my head. “She’s right, you do need a grown-up, but there are plenty of things you can do to help with dinner. By the time you get to be my age, you’ll be cooking with ease.”
