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CHAPTER18
- DAX -
I love kids. No mistaking it. I’ve been reminded of this all afternoon as I’ve been out on the ocean teaching Nicholas how to surf.
Not when I was a kid myself though. Back then, I was teased mercilessly for coming into school with ratty clothes or for still taking the bus when all the other kids seemed to have cars. Or for having parents with honest-to-God criminal records—mug shots that were readily available online and would too often show up taped to my locker with words like “Trash” or “Meth Head” written on them.
Yeah, I hated kids back then.
Looking back, I think I focused on the bad ones too much. A kid like Nicholas wouldn’t have even fallen onto my radar when I was so focused on trying to make it through the minefield of my childhood.
But there were probably plenty of kids like Nicholas at my school. And I should have made a point to find them rather than wallowing in my misery so much.
“I think I want to be a professional surfer when I grow up, Mom!” Nicholas calls as he runs up the sand to where Ava and Millie are sitting on their beach towels.
“Oh no! Going to give up coding then?” Ava asks.
“Yeah. Well, maybe. Maybe I could develop an app for surfers—one that tells them wave conditions or something.”
My eyebrows rise. “Ava, you’ve got nothing to worry about with your kid. He’s definitely going places.”
Ava laughs. “I could have told you that,” she replies proudly.
I glance over at Millie as she tells him, “Kiddo, I need some of that career direction to rub off on me.” She rubs his head, as though for luck. “There. Now I know just what I want to do when I grow up too.”
“What’s that?” Ava asks.
“Win the lottery,” she jokes.
Ava shakes her head. “Forget the lottery. You should buy that diner. You could do so much with it.”
Millie leans back. “I know, right?”
I cock my head, curious. “What would you do with it?”
A faint smile curves Millie’s lips, and she looks off to some point in the distance as though she’s picturing it. “I’d change up the menu, for one thing. Breakfast would stay the same, and maybe lunch too, at first. But dinner would be totally different. Bo does some really good Southern comfort foods. Like pan-fried chicken, pot pie, and fried green tomatoes.”
“Like the pot pie I ate at your place?” My memory takes me back to earlier this summer.
“Yep. His recipe with my grandma’s crust. But Harriet won’t add it to the menu.” She frowns. “I mean, it’s not even a risk. Apple pie is our bestselling dessert. Pot pie would be an automatic hit. I just can’t understand why she resists any kind of change. Bo’s got so much talent and he can’t use any of it with the menu we’re stuck with.”
“Bo’s cool. Did you know he used to be a Ranger too?” Nicholas asks me.
“I did. We’ve talked about it a few times.” I lower my voice like I’m letting him in on a secret. “That’s why he scares the heck out of me.” I chuckle.
“But you’re a Ranger too.”
“There’s nothing scarier than anoldRanger. It’s the ones who have survived the longest that are the toughest.”
“Yeah?” he asks, his eyes wide with interest.
“Yep. Life is like skin. The more you put it through, the more callouses you get. So the more you have to go through, the tougher you are.”
“Cool,” he breathes out thoughtfully, and from the look in his eyes, I’m betting this little kid has gone through plenty already.
It makes me like him even more.
I turn back to Millie, wanting again to see that light in her eyes when she talks about the diner. “What else would you do with the place?”
