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Glancing over his shoulder, Trace eyed Lilah. She was kneeling on the shore, wearing a navy-blue one-piece and jean cutoffs. If that wasn’t enough of a beautiful visual, she hovered near Sofie, using a little plastic shovel to help her daughter fill a bucket with sand. Lilah looked up from her task and smiled, making Trace’s heart thud.
“Mom, watch this!” Andy yelled, breaking Trace’s stare. “I’m going to do a cannonball!”
“I’m watching, sweetie,” Lilah called back, a singsong to her voice.
“Remember to hang on tight and only let go when I tell you to,” Trace said. Andy nodded. Then he raced forward and grabbed the rope. He propped his bare feet on the thick knot and swung out over the lake. When he was close to the high point of the swing, Trace yelled at him to let go. Andy flew into the air, hugged his knees, and made a big splash in the water.
Ben squealed and jumped.
“Good job, buddy.” Trace clapped as Andy swam back toward them, a huge smile on his face.
Next, Trace picked up Ben and helped him get situated on the rope. He let go, and Ben swung out. He shrieked with joy as he dropped into the water, making a good-sized splash for such a little body.
“You guys are better at this than me,” Trace said before launching himself into the water. The boys laughed and clapped, their pure, joyful innocence making Trace thankful for this moment, and especially that they let him be a part of it.
After a few more cannonballs, he got the boys situated on an inflatable raft. They paddled off from the dock, discussing which kind of fish lived in the lake. Then Trace joined Lilah and Sofie on the sandy shoreline. He plopped down next to Lilah, needing a breather after the cannonball lesson.
“They really look up to you,” Lilah said. She moved from kneeling in the sand to sitting on it. Sofie was intently digging a hole with her red shovel.
“They’re amazing kids. Always have been.” Trace looked out at Andy and Ben. They were trailing their hands in the water. Other than their laughter, the air was quiet. A single fishing boat could be seen in the distance. The quaint downtown of Maple Bay was visible across the lake.
Trace glanced at Lilah, intending to ask when Andy’s next football game was. But when his eyes found her, his question was lost. She was staring off at the boys, her sand-covered knees pulled to her chest, serenity on her face. Her shoulder-length hair was finger-brushed and damp from an earlier dip in the lake. Trace took in her beauty, savoring her calming presence.
When Lilah finally looked at him, a smile washed over her.
Trace smiled back.
“It’s a little piece of heaven here,” she said, tilting her head toward the lake. This boat dock was on the south side of the lake, a two-minute drive from Lilah’s house, and generally deserted. Most people used the dock closer to town. This one was hidden amongst farms.
“It is,” Trace agreed, knowing it was who he shared this spot with that made it special, not the actual location.
Sofie scooped warm sand onto his foot.
“Are you going to bury my feet, Sofie-girl?” Trace wiggled his toes. Gritty sand spilled through them, and Sofie giggled. She scooped more sand onto his foot and patted it with her little hand.
“Yep.” Sofie nodded, her blonde curls a little halo on her head.
“Get both his feet,” Lilah urged, and Trace inched his feet close together. Sofie took it as a personal challenge, gathering both tiny shovels to accomplish her new job.
Lilah set her arms on her knees and lovingly watched as the kids played and the sun started to sink. As Sofie finished burying Trace’s toes, Lilah whispered, “I wish he was here to see this.”
Her single sentence took his breath away.
Lilah hadn’t opened up to Trace about Henry in quite a while. Maybe a year? He had a hunch she was trying so hard to take care of everyone else that she wouldn’t acknowledge her own feelings.
He sure understood that. “Me too.”
Trace missed his friend. Henry had been the one person he could call no matter what. He had made Trace laugh, understood his quirks, and showed him that family is more than blood. Trace would never understand why Henry’s life had been cut short.
Lilah lowered her head, sliding her cheek across her arm. “I know we both miss him.” She gave Trace a sad smile that tugged at his heart. “Some days it just hits me harder than others.”
“I get that,” Trace agreed. “Sometimes even happy memories can make you sad.”
She nodded against her arm, taking a moment to think. “But I know Henry wouldn’t want me or you to remember him and be sad.”
Trace rolled his hand over his shin, brushing away wet sand. “No, he wouldn’t. Honestly, if he were here, he’d probably tell us both to turn our frowns upside-down.” Henry had inherited his dad-joke humor from Randall. He interjected silly sayings into his daily conversation, whether you wanted to hear them or not. “I can almost hear him now.”
A smile crooked up one side of Lilah’s mouth. “He would say that.”
