Page 39 of Wildflowers and Wide Receivers

“You good to hang with us, or were you looking for peace and quiet?”

She looks up and down the beach. Others are out here, but it’s not as crowded as I would expect for a holiday weekend. At least not yet. The northern schools aren’t out for a few more weeks, but this place will be packed once they are.

Her gaze comes back to Vivi, who’s sitting just on the edge of the water, making a drip castle. “I’m good to hang.” She smiles softly.

“I’m glad,” I tell her, reaching into the cooler bag for a bottle of water. “Want one?” I ask, holding it out in her direction. I watch as her head lowers just the tiniest bit and then rises. Behind those sunglasses, her gaze travels from my hand, which is holding the bottle, and then slowly slides up my arm to my face. My heart rate picks up.

Staying unaffected is going to be harder than I thought.

“Sure. Thanks,” she says.

I hand her a bottle and both of us sit in silence as we drink them and watch Vivi. Digging around in the sand, she finds something she likes, and her whole face lights up. Jumping to her feet, she runs up to us under the tent.

“Look, Ms. Sophie, a purple butterfly.”

In her hand, which she holds flat for us to see, there is a coquina clam shell. It’s a tiny bivalve shell, and it’s open, so it resembles the shape of a butterfly. They come in all different colors and patterns.

Sophie leans forward and acts like this is the best treasure Vivi could have ever found. “That’s so pretty. How did you know these are my favorite shells?”

“I didn’t. But now I do. I can find you some more.”

“I would love that. We’ll keep them, and then later, we can glue them to make a piece of art. What do you say?”

“Okay.” Vivi gives her a small smile, and my heart squeezes. She turns to look at me, and she’s so serious. “Uncle Jonah, can you go buy us some glue?”

I chuckle. “Of course. Who am I to stop artistic greatness?”

She gives me a small smile too and then runs back to her spot on the beach. She really does love the beach.

“You’re very good with her,” Sophie says, watching me. I don’t say anything because I can’t. Conversations about Vivi lead to me becoming emotional, and this is not the time or the place. Taking a sip of my water, the only response I can muster is, “Thanks.”

Next to Vivi, a seagull lands. The two of them are facing off, and I can’t help but grab my phone, zoom in, and take a picture. Sophie laughs next to me.

“Does she like to feed the seagulls?” she asks.

In turn, I give her a look of absolute horror. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

She shifts in her chair so she’s angled more toward me. “Why would I joke about seagulls?”

“Maybe because they’re disgusting,” I tell her, frowning.

She laughs again, and it sounds so good.

“They are not,” she teases.

“Yes, they are. Seagulls, pigeons, they’re all one and the same. Rats with wings.”

“Jonah, look at it.” She waves her hand toward Vivi, who’s gone back to shell hunting. Meanwhile, the seagull is just prancing around. “It’s so pretty.”

“Oh, I’m looking at it. It probably carries diseases and wants to eat Vivi’s eyes.”

This time, when she laughs, I can’t help but chuckle along with her. Vivi pushes her hair out of her face and looks over at us through squinty eyes. The sun is bright. I need to get her a pair of sunglasses too. Even though we’re only like fifteen feet away, Sophie waves, and Vivi waves back.

“As a kid, I used to love feeding the seagulls. They all come out of nowhere, and they sort of float in the air, just waiting to be given a treat. I also love the sounds they make. I associate the calls they make to vacation.”

“That sounds like a great memory . . . for you.”

She giggles again.