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“Some,” one of the twins said, “but it was a close call with the kids helping.”
“Good thing we were outside,” her sister said.
“Yeah,” Brianna agreed, “or we would’ve had painted floors too.”
“Did Jane say what time we’re taking the kids to the beach?” the first twin asked.
“After lunch is all I know,” Brianna replied, drying her hands and waiting for Noah to do likewise before following the twins into the cafeteria.
“Do we take all of the kids?” Noah asked her, his mind involuntarily dipping into worst-case scenarios involving the ocean, hordes of small children, and not enough adult supervision.
“I think they’re keeping the younger ones here and maybe not sending all of the older kids,” Brianna said.
Noah picked up a tray, wishing his thoughts didn’t mirror his paranoid mother’s so often. Of course they wouldn’t send too many children to the beach with a bunch of strangers.
“How’s the construction going?” Brianna asked.
“Not bad.” Noah ladled some soup into a bowl—it looked like chicken soup but with a red broth and no noodles. Brianna added cilantro, cheese, and sour cream, so he copied her. “Do you know what this is?”
“Looks like pozole to me.”
He’d never had it, but it smelled delicious. He followed her to a table and sat down amid the locals, wishing again that he could understand something of what they said. The first spoonful of soup surprised him with its spicy heat, but the children didn’t even flinch.
An hour later, bellies settled and swimming suits on, the children were anxious to get to the beach. Jane and Chad led the way out the front gates and onto the dirt road that had brought their group here, turning west toward the beach. Emily was skipping along with some of the kids, belting the “Mexico” song. Noah couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, and neither could the kids.
Just then, two little hands wormed their way into his—a girl on his left and a boy on his right. He caught Vanessa’s eye.
“I think you’ve been assimilated,” she said.
“Miracles never cease.” He lifted their hands with his own, bringing broader smiles to their faces. “Wish I knew their names.”
Vanessa said something to the girl in what was unmistakably Spanish.
“Hey! I thought you didn’t speak the language!” Noah said, indignant.
“It’s not that hard to learn a few phrases.” Vanessa laughed. “I wouldn’t call that speaking the language.”
Noah grunted. “What did you say?”
“I asked her name. Want me to teach you?”
Next thing he knew, Noah had some rudimentary Spanish skills. “Yo soyNoah.” He squeezed the boy’s hand.“Cómo te llamas?”
“Alejandro!”
He squeezed the girl’s hand. “Cómo te llamas?”
“Teresa!” Her pigtails bounced as she skipped along at his side.
“Hola, Alejandro. Hola, Teresa.” He looked at Vanessa. “I’ll be fluent by Friday.”
She laughed.
Their pace picked up as the road changed to sand.
“Man, I’ve missed the beach,” a grinning Alec said as the water came into view.
Swimmer though Noah was, he had never spent time at the ocean. Alejandro and Teresa let go of his hands and stormed the beach while he took in the rough white sand, cloudless sky, and crying seabirds. Tension slipped away as he shed his glasses and T-shirt, relishing the heat on his chest. Mild waves slapped the shore, grinding seashells into sand.
