Page 294 of Hide and Keep

I can’t keep the doubt from my voice when I ask her, “You know how to make a grinder?”

“I will in a minute.”

She’s not like us…yet. Soon she’ll be a Brantley in every way, including legally.

“Here. I got it, Dad.”

I rush over to take the kayaks from my dad’s hold.

He puts both hands up. “All right, all right. You want to show off for your girlfriend. I get it. I used to be young and strong, too.”

When he tries to lift the cooler, he winces.

“Dad—”

“Oh, I can take that,” Ever says. Before my dad can even argue, she’s strutting away with it in her possession.

Jesus, I love her.

The four of us, each weighed down with provisions, venture down the street, toward the water. The tide’s already going out, so there’s a ton of beach for us to set up camp on for the next several hours. We pass by canopies, blankets, chairs, coolers, playpens, a half-buried basketball hoop… Okay, that’s a first.

Beside me, Ever’s taking everything in with round eyes. She’s wearing an old tee of mine, along with a pair of my basketball shorts that despite the waist being rolled down at least three times, are still too big on her. With a pair of my mom’s size-eight sandals on her size-six-and-a-half feet, she’s making loudthwackswith every step she takes, kicking up sand all over both of us.

If her clones saw her right now, they’d choke on their overpriced seaweed water.

“What do you think?” I ask her.

“It smells like you.”

“So…it stinks?”

We both chuckle.

“No, the saltwater smells like you.”

“Yeah, I figured that’s where it was coming from.” I’ve never lived anywhere else, so the saltwater’s probably in my pores at this point.

“It’s beautiful from down here. Less intimidating.”

I nod and face forward. From this angle, you can see the sun reflecting off the water’s surface, making it glitter. At the manor, I noticed there was no real glitter. Too high up, I guess.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s fresh. Renewing. I feel…new.”

“You look it,” I sorta joke. She looks happier like this than when she’s in her usual attire.

Ever groans. “I can’t imagine what I look like.”

“Nothing like a Munreaux.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“It’s a very good thing.” At least to me. “So your team never had any team-bonding exercises or anything on the beach?”

“Not while I’ve been on it.”

“And you never went to any bonfires down here?” Connecticut residents, or Nutmeggers as most prefer, call almost all parties bonfires, whether there’s a bonfire or not.

“Nope. None.”

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