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She presses her head to my shoulder. “I couldn’t stay away.”
“What changed your mind?”
She sits up on her elbow to pierce me with those blue eyes. “It was Rosie.”
“The baby?”
“Yes. She was crying and upset and toddling around in despair. We couldn’t figure out what was wrong. She wasn’t hungry or thirsty and didn’t need a change.”
“What was it?”
“Her stuffed turtle. She wanted it. And as soon as she had it in her arms, she was back to her happy, goofy-grin self.”
I’m not sure I get the connection. “Isn’t that normal for kids?”
“Sure. She got the thing she needed and it turned everything around. I was moping around and upset, not doing much better than a toddler, and I decided—this is dumb. I’m going to go get the thing I want.”
“Even though it’s going to be taken away again?”
“All the more reason to hold it close for now.”
I pull her back down to my shoulder. Maybe it really is that simple. Maybe we are making all this harder than it has to be.
We decide not to get dressed the rest of the day, ordering no-contact delivery pizza and eating it in bed while watching black-and-white movies.
Every time anyone kisses, we kiss, too, and end up missing half of the films.
She stays with me all night, and we get up to swim in the morning. It’s early and no one is at the quiet beach, so we get moreswanky pankyin.
We don’t talk about how it’s the last day she’ll be here. That in the morning she’ll pack her suitcase.
We don’t mention the future or plan anything beyond the next five minutes.
We hold on to our stuffed turtles as long as possible.
But night still comes.
Her sister texts, asking if she’ll wait until morning to return.There’s a lot to do to get the condo closed up. You promised to help.
Tillie looks up from her phone, sorrow on her face. Tomorrow has intruded.
I follow her to the condos on my motorcycle. When we get there, Lila sits on the floor with Rosie, who is activating a starfish squeaker toy by bouncing on it with her butt. In her arms is a stuffed turtle.
“Hey, you two.” Lila helps Rosie stand, and the baby toddles over to Tillie, who picks her up.
I watch the two of them interact. Tillie bonks Rosie’s nose, sending the baby to giggling. Then Tillie starts giggling. Then Rosie laughs harder, and Tillie laughs harder.
“They’re always like this,” Lila says. “Two peas in a pod.”
“Auntie Tillie needs some water,” Tillie tells Rosie. “Can you come with me to get some water?” They head to the kitchen. “Do you need a drink, Gabe? Lila?”
“I’m good,” I call.
“Nothing here,” Lila says.
And we’re alone.
Lila picks up colorful bead-stuffed lizards and adds them to a mesh bag. I recognize the set from a tourist stand near the cruise port.
