Page 28 of Fractured Destiny

She shrugs. “It matches my parenting philosophy.”

“Which is?” I trot to where Levi is digging in the sand.

Ingrid holds her hands up. “We’re all making this up as we go along.”

“I thought teachers had all the answers.” I spin toward her. “I was counting on you.”

“Don’t. We fake confidence for a living.” She wipes a smudge off Minnie’s face.

Levi wanders toward us carrying a new rock with both hands. He stops in front of Minnie. Looks down at her purse. Then his rock. Solemnly opens the clasp and places it inside.

Minnie gasps. Reaches into the purse, pulls out the biggest shell she has and hands it back to my son.

Trade complete. Neither child smiles. This transaction is strictly business.

“I think they just negotiated a treaty.” I bite back a smile.

Ingrid slings an arm around my neck. “They’re better at diplomacy than most adults.”

God, my life has changed so much. A couple years ago, I’d wake up trying to remember where I left my Louboutin's. Count my cash. Shower off the previous night’s work.

Nowadays, morning means cuddles and diaper bags. Grapes cut into quarters. Tiny socks and convincing Levi pants are a requirement for public outings.

Turns out motherhood is a lot less exciting than chaos.

Infinitely better.

Especially on Tuesdays. I love my beach walks with Ingrid and our kids.

Today, the morning is cool enough for jackets. Ferries move across Puget Sound behind a veil of gray cloud while a kayaker drifts offshore. The smell of salt hangs in the air, mixing with coffee from the little stand near the mini Statue of Liberty.

Ingrid orders two coffees and two miniature hot chocolates.

I crouch beside Levi when the barista hands it to him. “Can you say thank you?”

He nods enthusiastically. Doesn’t say the words. Instead he offers her one of his precious rocks.

She accepts it with the seriousness it deserves.

“Thank you.” She grins.

We settle onto a bench overlooking the water. The kids sit side by side in their strollers babbling whatever invisible toddler politics currently govern their friendship.

Ingrid wraps both hands around her coffee. “You look happy.”

The compliment catches me off guard. I can’t remember the last time someone’s described me this way.

“Hmmm….” I take the lid off my latte and blow for second or two. “I think I am.”

“You hesitated.”

I shrug. “I wanted to make sure it was true before I said it.”

“I get it.” She leans back on the bench.

The breeze pushes a curl across Levi’s forehead. I smooth it back without thinking. He leans into my hand for half a second before focusing back on Minnie. “Babies are humbling.”

“You mean because they’re tiny terrorists?” Ingrid gestures to the kids. “Last week, I had a parent conference once where one of my students told me I looked like a bitch on wheels.”