Page 3 of The Summer Plans

“Eww, I hate broccoli,” Lucas whines.

Lana ignores her brother. “Why is it called that?” she asks the captain.

“Actually, it’s called that because the island is shaped like a broccoli,” Logan answers.

“Kid’s right,” the captain says, guiding us into the dock. “This is your stop.”

I look up at the row of massive houses. “Which one is ours?”

He points at the house in front of us. “It’s that one right there. I’ve got another group coming in later, but I’ll be back after that. I also do deliveries for Broccoli Market. It’s the only place on the island to get supplies. There are no cars, only bikes, if you decide you can’t wait on me to bring you what you need later. Here’s how you can reach me. Name’s Tony.” He hands me a card with the store’s contact info and website.

“Eww. A whole store full of broccoli?” Lucas pinches his nose in disgust.

Tony chuckles. “Nah, it’s named after the island. Ironically, the one thing it doesn’t carry is broccoli.”

We climb off the boat, and Tony helps us unload all our bags onto the dock before taking off. When I look up at the house, blinking in the bright Florida sun, I’m in awe. How long has Raven owned property like this? What else does she own?

“Dibs on beds!” Lucas calls.

Logan pushes Lucas out of the way, trying to beat him up the steps. “No, I call dibs!”

“Me first!” Lana races upstairs, leaving both of her brothers in her dust while I’m left struggling to drag our bags through the sand.

And the cycle of chaos begins. With two kids, they just annoy each other. But when you have multiple, the annoyance possibilities are endless.

They run up the stairs, as if touching the door first wins them some sort of magical prize. But they can’t get in without me punching in the code.

“There are four bedrooms, so you can each have your own if you want. And remember, this isn’t our house. Please don’t touch or break anything.”

They all stand there staring at the door, not a single one of them acknowledging my words. Do I even exist, or am I just the person providing them with snacks and Wi-Fi?

“Ummm, hello? Did anyone hear me?”

A chorus of “Yes, Mom’s” erupts, and I punch in the code, already bracing myself for a long week.

Maybe I should’ve just taken a solo trip. No one to ignore me while I’m speaking, no one to cook for, and no one shouting “skibiddi,” “rizz,” “aura,” or “six-seven.” I can’t even go a day without thinking that stupid phrase in my head.

Guilt punches me in the gut at the thought. I love my kids and I’m excited to spend the week with them, but it doesn’t negate the exhaustion that comes with parenting kids on my own.

Once I get the door open, everyone scatters. Lana takes the room with the twin bed and the best ocean view while Logan and Lucas decide to share the room with the bunk beds. It makes my heart happy knowing that even when they have the choice, my boys choose to bunk with each other. Sure, they fight like all siblings do, but I love how close they are.

Once I unpack Logan’s insulin from my cooler bag and put the rest of the snacks in the fridge and kitchen, I grab my phone and place a grocery order from the market. With Logan’s egg allergy, going out to eat is hard, so I usually have to cook all our meals.

Walking out onto the patio, I take in the gorgeous beach front views. What I wouldn’t give to have someone to share this with. After I had my heart broken in high school, I met Todd and naively thought I’d found my happily ever after. Instead, I lost part of myself to that relationship. It’s difficult to speak up for myself and go after what I want, but I found a piece of that strength after my divorce. My best friend Raven supported me through that time, encouraging me to advocate for myself again. And taking this trip, asking for this unscheduled time with my kids, feels like a step in the right direction.

And when the first boy who broke my heart—Raven’s brother—moved back to town a year ago, I was ready to finally let him know how I felt. I kept trying to work up the nerve to talk to him after our falling-out in high school, but I never could find the courage to voice my feelings to him. It’s been too long anyway, and he’s moved on.

The lapping waves create a soothing backdrop as I stare out at the water. I can’t believe Raven wants to get rid of this place. It’s heaven on earth. At first glance, the house looks to be in great shape. Hopefully I won’t have to do much to get it ready to sell. I’m looking forward to a relaxing week of making memories with my kids.

CHAPTER 2

SUMMER

Two hours later, after we’ve finished lunch and the kids are distracted by technology, I slip into my bedroom and throw myself backward onto the king-sized mattress like I’m a character in a movie. My bed at home is only a queen, and I’m looking forward to a whole week of flopping around in this giant bed by myself, stretching out like a starfish, rolling around like a burrito as I burrow into the blankets, even sleeping naked if I want. The sky’s the limit. Or, the bed’s the limit, I should say.

A door slams, pulling me from my daydream. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I wait for a scream to follow, certain I’m about to be needed to break up another fight. But it never comes. I exhale. That’s it, unclench those cheeks. Vacations are supposed to be relaxing.

Vacations with kids are anything but. There is no relaxation. It’s just managing kids in a different environment. It’s a sadistic form of raw-dogging life with none of the usual tools or tricks. But the setting is usually prettier. And this place is on the beach.