“Are you fucking with me?” My dad has always wanted to see the best in Brenda. Paige is his favorite person on Earth. Brenda is a big part of Paige, so my parents have always made herculean efforts to be fair to my ex-wife. I’ve let them; I’ve kept the worst parts to myself. She was my choice, after all. My burden to bear.
“No,” I say, shaking my head and trying to relax the tension I feel creeping from my jaw to my skull. “I don’t know how to pull it off. Maybe a loan on my pension.”
“Do you have enough there?”
“Close.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he says, his own forehead tight with thoughts. “Your mom and I might be able to help.”
“No, Dad,” I say. They have debt of their own, now. Cancer isn’t one of the leading causes of bankruptcy for nothing. “I appreciate it, I do. But I’ll figure it out.”
“We’re not in bad shape, now,” he tries to argue.
“I know. Still, let me try on my own. I’ll ask if I need it.”
“That stubborn bullshit comes from me,” he mumbles, kicking his toe in the sand. “I don’t like it, but I understand.”
“Dad!” Paige comes running up to us, stopping in front of her grandfather, who swings her up into his arms. “I’m going to go home with Grandma.”
“You’re done already?” It’s been an active day, but that’s never stopped her before.
“I have sand in my crack,” she says, twisting her mouth up.
“Occupational hazard of being a beach bum,” Dad says. “We’ll get you home so you can shower.”
“Can we get ice cream on the way?” she whispers in his ear.
“Duh,” he says, giving her a tickle on her side.
“Thank you!”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You got it,” he says. “Take Lou to dinner. The bar is doing crawfish boils.”
We didn’t leave the beach right away. Lou explained every inch of the design she and Paige came up with for the property she hopes to buy. The house will have a wall of windows, to allow an unobstructed view of the ocean, save for the large garden that will be in a clearing off to one side. Because, of course, you want to see your plants thriving, even from indoors.
Lou wants to leave much of the forest intact. No lawn, that’s a waste, she says, because there isn’t anything you can do on grass that you can’t do on seagrass. Plus, she likes the natural barrier and all the moss-covered trees.
“Imagine all the wooden pathways and cute little bridges I can build in the forest,” she said. “I’m a slut for a cute forest bridge.”
I’m a slut for wayward supermodels finding their way next door to me.
We only left when she decided she was too hungry to stay on the beach any longer, Paige and her having long since eaten all the snacks that were packed.
The bar is crowded with new and temporary faces, but we manage to find two stools at the end of the bar.
“Hiya,” January says, placing two cardboard coasters down in front of us. “You two doing the boil tonight?”
“Yes, please,” Lou answers with a smile that isn’t fully returned.
“And what will it be to drink?” January directs the question at me, and I eye her, confused.
Yeah, there’s been some harmless flirting between us, but it never went further than that. There’s no call for rudeness.
“Water is good for me,” I say. “I’m driving tonight.”
“Water works for me, too,” Lou says. January nods and walks away. “I get the feeling she doesn’t like me.”
