What I did not love was not getting to take any time off.
That’s where our new doctor came in.
He was a great help.
Moses had completed his residency and had finally come back to town, ready and willing to take over as the town doctor.
I was glad to give it to him.
Not that I didn’t love the job.
I did.
But I also wanted to spend some time with my family while they were still young.
Speaking of young family, movement caught my eye, and I spotted Constance making her way down to the beach with our toddler, Janette—named after her grandmother Janet—on her hip and our infant, Rex, strapped to her chest.
Janette looked sleepy but appeared to be waking up fast.
She saw me and waved.
I waved back.
Wendy arrived with her shell and held it out for me to see.
I picked it up and examined it.
“This is a cowrie shell,” she declared.
“It is?” I asked. “How do you know?”
She held out her sheet of shells’ names that she’d had me print out and laminate at work before we’d come.
“Ahh.” I nodded. “That matches up pretty darn well.”
“I know.” She narrowed her eyes. “That man is taking my spot.”
I looked at said “man.”
It was a man older than dirt, and he had a long-handled scoop that he’d been using to slowly work his way down the length of the beach.
“Just give him a second. He’ll move on.” I squeezed her ankle.
She sighed and plopped down next to me where I was reading the newest Nelson DeMille book.
“What part are you on?” she asked.
I was just about to reply when Constance arrived, holding an iPad out to Wendy.
“Your dad wants to say hi,” Constance said softly.
Wendy smiled.
She started talking to her dad, and I looked over at Constance and reached for Janette.
She came willingly, snuggling deep into my chest, not quite ready to be awake.
It was always that way with our second child.
