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“Getoutofhere!” Brody chases away a photographer who was not invited to the resort, his voice of command giving me goosebumps.
“Oh my God, who sent him?” I ask, baby Brody in my arms.
“Not the magazine we scheduled with!”
He’spissed.And seeing him like that while wearing nothing but Bermuda shorts makes me desire him a little more than the usual.
I’m wearing a bikini under a colorful beach shawl, and sunglasses, mimicking my beau. The baby has a swim diaper on, over a tiny pair of shorts, and is covered in a ton of sunscreen.
Eric is also here waiting, wearing swim trunks with cartoon characters all over them.
“I stole you for me today!” I tell him, ruffling his hair as I get under the parasol. “Today, I’m your mom!”
Eric shrugs to my advance, and just keeps on building his sandcastles. “I preferred it when you were my music teacher…” he mutters under his breath.
“Hey! I don’t want to take your mom’s place. I was just joking!” I apologize. “So, you don’t like that I married your father?”
He shakes his head and scratches the nape of his neck, not looking directly at me as he considers my question.
“It’s not that,” he says, “it’s just that you and Junior take a lot of my dad’s time.”
I smile, understanding. The little one is seeing his family grow and doesn’t know what to make of it.
“Families get bigger all the time, Eric,” I say softly, “but there’s always enough love for everybody, because love doesn’t have an end. Doesn’t your grandpa love Sandra, your dad, and you the same way?”
He nods in affirmation.
“So!” I continue, “My parents love me and my sisters equally. Now they love you and Junior too. There’s always space for one more person.”
Eric looks at me and smiles, his eyes barely open due to the sunlight. Brody comes back, with whom I assume is the photographer that he hired and his crew in tow.
“Lily!” the photographer says, arms wide open for me. “Pictures don’t do you justice. You’re even more gorgeous than I imagined!”
“Oh, my God; you are too much!” I laugh, standing from my beach chair and joining Brody’s side.
“I’m Jean Luc Frakes, pleased to meet you,” he takes my hand and kisses it. “And this must be our star!”
Jean Luc reaches for Junior, and I hand him to him. Pretty much comfortable in anyone’s arms, Junior takes a grip of the photographer’s shirt and doesn’t let go.
“He’ll be very photogenic, I bet. And this is your baby brother?” He addresses Eric, who just nods timidly.
“Do you want to be in the photoshoot too?”
Now Eric buries his face in the hem of his father’s shorts, and Brody just pats him in the head.
“He’s shy at first,” Brody informs the photographer, “but just wait until he sees his little brother being the center of attention.”
“And how about you?” Jean Luc asks Brody. “If I’m going to show the baby, I need to show both parents.”
“Huh,” Brody’s face goes red, causing me to laugh. “Maybe one picture?”
“Alright, let’s get started!” Jean Luc gives me back Junior and places the bag from his back over the sand and takes from it a large professional camera with comically exaggerated lenses.
“Lily, please get under the parasol with the baby. The boys wait off to the side, I’ll come back to you later.”
Brody takes Eric back to the boardwalk, and they sit there to watch me get covered in camera flashes.
Jean Luc indicates that I should sit over my beach towel, then lie down with Junior. One of his staffers holds the baby so I can be photographed alone, but he soon starts to cry and is brought back into my arms.
