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The Ashburn men have seen it all before, but the investment bankers they pluck from universities straight after they receive their degrees are on the verge of coronary failure.
They’ve never seen so much skin, and Herbert, Caroline’s father, rarely wears a shirt, even with his chest having more gray hairs than dark ones.
Henley takes so long doing up Lucy’s zipper, I re-ask my question, assuming she didn’t hear me.
“I heard you the first time,” she murmurs before clicking the safety buckle into place to stop the lifejacket from slipping over Lucy’s head. “I’m just a little unsure why you want me to cover up.”
“Ah… your swimsuit. It’s missing a big chunk of material.”
When she stares at me as if confused, I nudge my head to her naked backside.
She laughs. “That’s the design. You’re meant to wear them like this.”
The envious gawks bombarding her have words cracking out of my mouth like a whip. “I don’t give a shit if that’s how they were designed. Your ass is hanging out for the world to see.”
“Daddy!”
I apologize to Lucy for my potty mouth before suggesting she ask Grandma to put sunscreen on her.
Lucy folds her arms over her chest. “Nuh-uh. You owe me two dollars.”
I yank my wallet out of my shorts and thrust it into her chest before twisting her to face her grandmother, who is waiting near the water’s edge.
Once she’s out of earshot, as excited to test out the new toy Stella purchased as she is to empty my wallet of bills, I shift my focus back to Henley. I want to march her inside and cover her head to toe with cotton, but I try to remember I’m the elder of our duo, so I can’t act like a Neanderthal, no matter how strong the urge is. “The people here are… conservative. They’re not used to those types of swimsuits.”
“My swimsuit is worn around the world, and this is just a barbecue,” Henley quotes, her tone low and brimming with annoyance. “I’m also wearing far more clothing than you wore my first two nights as your nanny.”
I realize our exchange is being witnessed by more than Thane when the crowd snickers in response to her reply. It won’t have me backing down, though. “I would like you to put on a shirt.”
I balk when she snaps out, “No.”
“Henley.”
Not even my stern grumble of her name sees her backing down. “You told me to pack a swimsuit. I packed a swimsuit. Next time you might need to be more specific.”
She stops galloping down the stairs Lucy just raced down when I say, “I didn’t realize I had to request no dental floss bikinis at an event with children.”
“The only child here is you, Brodie,” she gabbers before continuing down the stairs, her steps unfazed.
“Sit the fuck down, Thane,” I murmur, pulling him back into his seat.
He’s been running around after Henley all day, fetching her towels and drinks and pulling out the chair next to him when we sat down to eat. He’s fawning over her, and it is pissing me off more than Lucy hoisting her swimsuit up her backside so her bottoms matched Henley’s when they got off the trampoline.
I was two seconds from marching Lucy out of the festivities and leaving Henley at the mercy of my in-laws. I didn’t because Stella pulled me aside and told me a story about Caroline doing a similar stunt when she was eleven.
“We’d vacationed in Miami for a week and were clueless of the influence strangers could have on a child’s confidence.” She threw her head back and laughed. “She sauntered around the living room and pool house for days with literal dental floss wedged between her butt cheeks. I was horrified.” Her face softened. “Until I realized that for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t hating on herself. Her confidence to wear something like that said far more than a person’s response to her wearing it.” She turned me to face Lucy and Henley playing at the water’s edge. “Tell me one time you’ve seen that child’s face lit up like that?”
I couldn’t answer her. I’d never seen Lucy’s face gleam as it did while making sandcastles with Henley. It was always sadder and more downcast than her peers’ faces. It didn’t even gleam that bright when Marcus invited us to a private rehearsal with his band.
She loves life and is forever appreciative, but something has been missing from her eyes for a long time.
I thought it was because of the constant reminder that her mother had passed, so I stored away Caroline’s things and made out we’d always been a single-unit family.
Was that wrong of me to do? Probably, but grief doesn’t come with a handbook. There’s no step-by-step process on how to go about it. I did what I thought was right at the time, and I will save my judgment until Lucy is at an age where she can tell me how badly I fucked up.
