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To the left is a small family that I don’t know. The wife is already sitting in a chair, busy reaching in their cooler, and preparing their oysters. The husband and son are down by the water’s edge playing tag.
It’s nice that my neighbors seem to be doing well. But where on earth is Sav? I expected her to show up by now. I check my watch and sigh silently.
“Dad!” Charlie says.
Giving myself a shake, I turn to him. “What’s up, kiddo?”
He stomps his foot. “Help.”
“Yes, sir.” I give him a mock salute and spend a couple of minutes securing the tarps. Then I point to an empty spot a few feet behind our camp. “Want to start digging the fire pit?”
“Yeah!” Charlie squeals. “I’m gonna dig.”
“Sounds like a worthwhile venture.”
I scan the beach, looking for a familiar female figure. I finally spot Sav standing further up the shore. I raise my hand to beckon her over.
She heads toward us, looking vibrant in her baby pink cape and dark jeans. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and two spots of pink seem to have found a permanent home in her cheeks. She’s carrying a huge, covered casserole dish, and lugging a large tote bag.
“Happy Charbroiled Oyster Festival,” she says when she reaches our camp.
“Sav!” Charlie stops frantically digging, and runs over to hug her. She squats down so that she is eye level with him, then does the Secret Handshake with him.
It’s really just a fist bump and finger guns. But I wouldn’t dare ever say that to Charlie. He grins like a madman every time he and Sav share one.
“Hang on. I think I have your hat.”
Sav sets her casserole dish down on the nearest tarp, and looks in her tote. She fishes his hat out, and hands it to him.
“I found it when I was cleaning up after everyone left play practice yesterday.”
Charlie stuffs it on his head.
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
It turns out, being secretive and low key is not in my wheelhouse. But keeping my liaisons with Savannah close to my chest proved to be unnecessary. One morning, Charlie caught Savannah in my bed and barely blinked an eye. I know she felt awkward, because she made him blueberry pancakes, and that seemed to be all my son needed to accept her new place in our life.
As for what I needed? That still remained to be seen.
He purses his lips. “Can you stay over again?”
“If you’ll have me.” Her lips twitch. “I’ve only stayed at my house for three nights in the last two weeks.”
“Can you make pancakes? I like pancakes.”
Sav laughs. “You bet I can, Charlie.”
I clear my throat. “I hate to break this reunion up, but aren’t you supposed to be digging a fire pit for us?”
“Oh yeah.” Charlie runs back to the pit and starts wildly flinging sand.
“His energy level is astonishing. Scientifically near impossible,” Sav comments.
“He’s right about the house when you’re not there, though. The house,” I lift my brows, “missed you last night.”
She smiles. “Oh? Is that right?”
