So my first outing outside the house in two weeks is a family affair. I’d wanted to only include Torrin so that if I lost it—like I felt close to—my family wouldn’t have to witness it happening. Again.
“I’ll grab the cooler and chairs and find us a spot.” Dad checks me through his sunglasses then lifts a brow at Torrin before crawling out the door.
“Okay, so, sweetheart, you put on that special sunscreen I gave you, right?” It’s Mom’s turn to twist around in her seat and inspect me.
I answer her with a nod.
“And you’ve got the glasses and hat?”
I nod again.
“I brought the sunshade, so why don’t you just wait here while your dad gets it set up?”
I exhale at this suggestion. Lately, she’s been treating me like a preemie in the neonatal unit who has to be protected inside a clear plastic box.
“I know you put on your swimsuit, but you should probably stay covered up today just to be safe. Your skin hasn’t been exposed to sun in years. I don’t know if it’ll burn or blister, but let’s be safe just in case.” I sigh, but she keeps going. From the looks of the mental checklist she’s crossing off, she’s just getting started. “Oh, and the ocean. I know I used to not be able to get you out of the water, but it’s been a long time since you’ve swam. You should start in a pool first . . . not with the currents and tides and everything.”
This time I groan as I reach for the door handle. I need to get out of this car and away from my mom’s endless stream of concerns. “I’m made of flesh, Mom, not porcelain. Give me a little more credit.”
I swing my legs out the door, and the sticky ocean breeze coats them instantly. The smell hits me next, and it’s everything I remember. Briny—like seawood’s drying in the sunshine—and a little sweet.
“Torrin . . .” Mom says as I start for the beach.
“She’ll be fine, Eleanor.”
The waves are breaking, and the breeze is blowing, and the sun’s ducking in and out of the clouds, and the seagulls are screaming—and I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d want to be than right here. With him. With them.
Torrin lopes up to me when I’m halfway to the ocean’s edge. He’s loaded down with bags and chairs and boards, but he’s moving as fast as I am—like neither of us can wait to go play. Dad pauses from working on the sunshade when he sees us coming. He even breaks form and smiles in Torrin’s general direction when he sees the one on my face.
“Great day for the beach, isn’t it?” Dad says, wrestling with one of the shade’s poles.
I nod, but great doesn’t begin to sum it up. This is something else.
Torrin drops his load and helps my dad with the shade. Torrin’s wearing the same boardshorts and sweatshirt from our afternoon at the guest bedroom beach. I smile when I watch him. With the wind toying with his hair and the flip-flops on, he looks like the Torrin I fell in love with. The fifteen-year-old version is inside the man before me.
It makes my stomach feel funny. Like something’s dancing around inside it.
“Look who made it!” Mom’s voice carries from behind me.
When I turn to look, I see Sam and Patrick and . . . I cover my mouth with my hand. I’ve never seen her before, but I know I’m seeing my niece for the first time ever. Not a photo of her but the real, live her.
Sam’s holding her, and when she notices me looking all overwhelmed and speechless, she smiles and makes her way over. Patrick is even more weighted down with beach junk than Torrin was. I can barely make out his face from beneath all of it.
Mom stays back a bit, letting Sam and me have a minute. I haven’t really talked to Sam since the day I went nuclear on the reporters swarming her car, but she doesn’t look at me like we’re on opposite teams anymore. She stops in front of me and looks at her daughter bouncing in her arms. She looks a lot like Sam did as a baby except she’s got brown eyes. I suppose one part of her dad had to make it into the genetic pool.
“This is Maisy.” Sam bounces her a few times, which makes her giggle and screech. Then she nuzzles her nose against her daughter. “This is Aunt Jade.”
A ball pops into my throat out of nowhere. Off to the side, Mom has to turn around as she wipes at her eyes. I know this is a big deal—Sam feeling comfortable enough to bring her daughter around me. I know that this is Sam’s way of accepting me back into the family, and when all I want to say is thank you, all I can do is wrestle with that ball.
Maisy stops bouncing and tips her head at me like she’s trying to figure out who this Aunt Jade person is. Then she giggles again and reaches out so far for me Sam has to tighten her hold so she doesn’t fall out of Sam’s arms.
“Um,” I say as she continues to wave her little arms at me, “is it okay?”
Sam looks at her daughter, and when she shallows, I’m pretty sure that same ball’s in her throat. “Of course it’s okay.” Her voice is tight when she hands Maisy to me. “You’re her family.”
I freeze once Maisy’s in my arms. She’s heavier than I’d guessed, and wigglier. She bounces against me like she’s giving me a hint. I’m so worried about dropping her or hurting her or anything else bad that can happen to a little baby I stay frozen a moment longer.
“It’s okay, Jade.” Sam touches my arm. “You won’t hurt her.”