Page 34 of Tastes Like Summer

“Uh. Sure.” I get to my feet and throw Michael an apologetic look before walking away, only looking back once as I feel the cold sand beneath my feet to find him holding his head in his hands, looking glumly into the fire pit.

“So, please don’t tell Michael or anything,” my daughter says, pulling me by the hand, “but Rachel’s been really sad because Fourth of July was kinda her and her mom’s thing? I don’t know. She was super cool all day, but then I guess the fireworks made her even sadder because she started crying out of nowhere and I wanted to call Michael but she said she didn’t want to and then I asked if I should call you and she said no, but I thought you’d know what to do because she won’t stop crying.” Cami rushes through her words, looking up at me as she walks, brows pulled together.

I smile wildly because my daughter came to me when she needed my help, and that feels big. It means she trusts me. All happiness dissipates, however, when I see Emi holding Rachel in her arms while she sobs.

I drop Cami’s hand and jog over to the girls, who separate once they hear me ask what’s wrong. But Rachel can barely get words out, so Emi decides to speak for her.

“Rachel really misses her mom, and she’s sad she’s not here. It’s the first Fourth of July they aren’t together.”

My heart breaks for Rachel, not knowing quite what to say.

I take Rachel by the hands and have her face me. Using the sleeve of my sweatshirt, I wipe the tears off her face, only to have them quickly replaced by fresh ones. “Do you want me to call your dad? Ask him to come talk to you?” I try to sound as comforting as possible.

“No!” She sniffs. “No, it’s just gonna make him feel bad. He’s been so great, and he made sure everyone had fun today. But the fireworks were my mom and mine’s thing. And I’m just sad.” She shrugs once, trying to act strong. “I just—I just need to get over it.”

“Get over it?” I gasp. “Honey, you have every right to be sad today. And your dad is not going to think you’re being a burden or whatever crazy thing is running through your mind right now. He loves you so much, and wants what’s best for you. He would want to know if you’re sad—I know I would want to know if one of my girls were going through a rough time.”

“I don’t know how to talk to him, though,” she cries.

My heart twists for them.

“Okay.” I nod. “I understand that. Talking about feelings isn’t always easy and sometimes we don’t even know how to start. So would it be helpful if I bring him over and guide you guys through it?” I ask.

Rachel hesitates a moment before nodding.

“Perfect.” I turn to Emi and ask her to go get Michael, making sure she lets him know it’s urgent, but doesn’t alert the other adults. He comes running in seconds, brows pulled together.

“Rach? What’s wrong?” He drops to his knees, kicking sand everywhere, and pulls her quickly into his arms. “What’s going on?”

She starts crying again, wrapping her little arms around his neck as she sobs into his chest. Michael looks helplessly at me. He pushes Rachel away just enough to meet her squarely in the eye. “Talk to me. Please.”

Rachel bites her lip and looks back at me.

“Um. She misses her mom,” I whisper. “Fourth of July fireworks were super special to them, apparently, and she got very sad.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks her. “I would’ve loved to have sat down and watched them together. You could’ve told me all about what you and your mom used to do. We might’ve been able to recreate some of it.”

Rachel sniffs again and runs the back of her hand over her nose. “You never asked.”

Michael looks away, ashamed. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re right, Rach. I am so sorry. I should’ve known better. I-I’m still trying to figure this parenting thing out, but I want you to know that I love you so much. It seems impossible, but I love you more every day. I know this whole thing is still new, but I can’t imagine a world without you now. Please, please, please know that you can come to me no matter what. Next year, I promise we can continue you and your mom’s tradition. Or start a new one.”

“I don’t want a new tradition. What if you leave? I’d have to start another one all over again with someone else.”

“Leave?” Michael looks horrified, his eyes glazing over with unshed tears. “Kid, I know we had a rough and confusing start, but I promise you there is no freaking way I am ever leaving you again. I am here to stay.”

Rachel starts crying again and throws herself at her father. “Do you promise?”

“I swear.” He squeezes her tightly. “Nothing in this world is ever going to keep me from you ever again.”

“Okay. I love you, Dad.”

I wipe a tear across my cheek before pulling my two girls into my sides, watching Michael and Rachel have this breakthrough moment. After a few seconds, he opens his eyes and looks at me, mouthing a Thank you.

“Alright, girls. Let’s make it quick—I need to get back home and back to work,” I say when I pick the girls up at camp.

“Yes, Mami,” my girls reply in unison as they climb into the car.

“What are we having for dinner?” Cami asks.