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“Next time for sure,” I agree, squinting against the sun.
After last night’s fiasco, Layla and I seem to have worked things out. We talked and then fell asleep side by side in bed, and then this morning Katy woke up and asked if we could go to the beach so she could practice becoming a mermaid. I told her yes, and shockingly Layla agreed to join us.
It’s hot out here. The July sun is high in the cloudless, pale blue sky, but neither Layla nor Katy seems bothered by the heat. Or the crowds considering the beach is packed. This is my favorite beach. It’s about forty-five minutes north of Boston, but it’s the one my parents used to take Declan and me to when we were kids.
We weren’t like some of my friends whose parents had houses on Cape Cod or Martha’s Vineyard. We’d pack into the car with umbrellas, blankets, towels, and coolers of food and drinks and would spend all day in the sand and waves.Katy loves to do the exact same thing. Even if I force her to wear more sunscreen than is likely necessary along with an SPF 50 bathing suit and a sun hat.
Layla sits back on her haunches and appraises their handiwork. The woman has been on her knees, bent over, with her ass in the air, cleavage on full display as she and Katy built this massive sandcastle. I’ve had a raging boner in my freaking swim trunks that hide nothing all damn morning. It’s why I haven’t gotten up to help much.
That and I love watching the two of them together.
Katy is missing Willow something fierce. Her therapist told me everything Katy is experiencing is normal, and that there is no rushing this, and there is no cure. She’s missing a piece that nothing and no one else can fill. This will be a lifelong heartache for her.
Layla knows this better than anyone. It’s what makes her so perfect for this.
It’s also what connects the two of them together.
They seem to have an unspoken language already and I know Katy confides in her and tells her things that she doesn’t tell me or her therapist.
“I feel like it’s missing something,” Layla finally declares, scrutinizing the sandcastle like it’s an objet d’art.
“A moat?” Katy asks, mocking Layla’s pose and expression.
“Yes! Katy, that is totally what this needs to be the best sandcastle ever. A moat is brilliant.” Layla reaches out her hand to her and Katy high-fives it. “How about you dig the moat and I’ll go fill the bucket with water to bring back?”
“Okay. But after that, I want to go swimming. I’ll never be good at being a mermaid if I don’t practice my swims and dives.”
“Makes total sense. You dig and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Layla bounces up to her feet and heads for the water with a lime-green bucket in her hand.
“Having fun?” I ask now that it’s just the two of us.
Katy is too busy furiously digging the perfect moat to acknowledge me as she answers. “Can I paint Layla a picture to go with her new surprise?”
“Absolutely. We’ll have it framed and put on the wall.”
She nods like that’s an acceptable answer.
“So… are you having fun?” I press.
“Do you think Mommy and Daddy are watching us today since there are no clouds in the sky?”
Wow. What an astute question. “I think they are. I think they wanted you to have the perfect beach day to practice becoming a mermaid. Ladybug, just because they’re not here with you every day doesn’t mean they’re not watching you and loving you. You’ll always be their girl, honey. Always.”
“Uncle Cal, I want to be a mermaid, but I think I also might want to be a bird so I can fly high up into the sky and find them in heaven.”
Motherfucker.
“Ladybug, let’s stick to the water for now. We can work on flying when you get older. A bird can’t fly that high, but I promise you, they’re looking down on you from heaven and are so proud of you.”
Two minutes later, Layla comes running back with the water, and I swear she’s doing that just to torture me. It’s likeBaywatch,only she’s a million times hotter—and less fake—than Pamela Anderson ever was.
“Got the water.” She bends and pours the water into the moat, and we all watch as it fills the canal. “Perfect. This is the best sandcastle I’ve ever built.”
“I built one with Mommy once. It was twice this size. Then Daddy tripped and stomped his foot in it.”
“Really? That’s hilarious.” Layla laughs loudly instead of being apprehensive the way I am every time Katy talks about her parents. “What a funny and special memory that is. One you’ll think about every time you build a new sandcastle.”
