Page 58 of The Beach Trap

“The whole family is here for the week,” CoCo says. “My parents are in rare form, so Brent and I had to get out for a while. This is Brent,” she says, gesturing at the man beside her. He looks like a Ken doll brought to life, with thick sandy hair and an “I summer in the Hamptons” vibe.

“They’re still devastated about Junior’s little midlife crisis,” CoCo says. “If that whole scandal with the manufacturers overseas wasn’t enough, he went and called off his engagement, so nowalltheir hopes and dreams are focused on me.” CoCo laughs at her own predicament. “Don’t get me wrong, I love attention, but a girl needs to breathe! Am I right?”

“You are so right,” I agree. But my mind is stuck on one detail she hadn’t mentioned the last time we talked. “So Junior’s single?”

“Very single,” CoCo says with a knowing smile. It’s not a secret I had a giant crush on Junior Rooney from the time I wasseven until I was a teenager. CoCo and I used to dream about my marrying Junior so we could be sisters—we’d definitely have more in common as sisters than Blake and I do.

I’m waiting for CoCo to tell me more about Junior, but her attention is focused elsewhere. I follow her gaze and realize she’s looking behind me at Henry, studying him like he’s eye candy.

“You remember Henry,” I say, realizing I should make introductions. Henry nods and CoCo waves, her eyes growing wide as I imagine mine did when I first recognized him.

“Wow, somebody had a glow up,” CoCo says, not bothering to drop her voice to a whisper.

I blush on Henry’s behalf and keep talking. “That’s his daughter, Sunny, and this is Blake.”

“Blake?” CoCo says, tilting her head. “Blake as in our housekeeper?”

My jaw drops, but Blake stays cool and collected. I’m happy to see her hair is pushed back and not covering her face as she says, “Blake as in O’Neill.”

CoCo gives Blake a dismissive smile before turning back to me, and I’m suddenly embarrassed—not about Blake, but about CoCo’s behavior, treating Henry like a slab of meat and Blake like she’s nothing more than hired help.

For the first time since I set this whole arrangement in motion, I wonder if it was the right thing.

“Well, we’ve got to get going; Brent got us a resi down at 790.” CoCo turns and looks adoringly at her boyfriend, who seems to have the personality of a doormat. “Let’s do drinks before I go back to Boston.”

I nod and give CoCo another hug before she and Brent leave. It might be my imagination, but as soon as they disappear down the stairs, everyone seems to exhale a deep sigh of relief.

•••

Watching fireworks onthe beach is just as magical as I remember. Flashes of color explode in the sky and reflect off the water as they cascade down. Tonight is the closest I’ve felt to my old self since my dad died.

We found a perfect spot on the beach and laid out three blue-and-white-striped beach towels to sit on.

For a few minutes, I almost forgot I was supposed to be documenting the occasion for the Worthington application. It wasn’t until I turned and looked at Henry sitting with Sunny, snug in his lap, her face lit up in wonder, that I reached for my phone.

I got some great pictures of them, and a few ’Grammable shots of the fireworks, including a boomerang I didn’t even bother editing before sharing to my stories. I got one shot of Blake but didn’t post it. There was something about her body language that made her look like she was lost in her own world. Beautiful but sad.

After the last firework goes off, Henry looks down at Sunny, who is snuggled against her dad’s broad chest. “I’d better get this little firecracker to bed,” he says.

Sunny yawns and says, “I’m not sleepy,” before closing her eyes.

Henry laughs and somehow manages to stand up without waking Sunny.

“Do you need anything from the house?” I ask.

“Nah,” Henry says. “I’ve got everything I need.” He kisses Sunny’s blond curls and my heart constricts. I miss my dad—and more than that, I realize I miss the dad he never was.

“I’ll walk you to the car,” I offer, not ready to go back inside quite yet.

Henry says goodbye to Blake, and we walk around the side ofthe house, where, when I was nine, I tried selling passes to the public beach. I made a sign and everything:STEINER BEACH ACCESS, $3. Never mind that there was free beach access at almost every street that intersected Old 98. I figured it was a better business plan than selling lemonade since I didn’t have to buy or make anything to turn a profit.

Maybe I was smarter than I give myself credit for.

Henry transfers Sunny from his arms to her car seat with the skill of a pro, which, of course, he is. He quietly closes the back door and exhales.

“Thanks for today,” Henry says. “Sunny had a lot of fun.”

“Just Sunny?” I ask. There were definitely moments today where Henry seemed more relaxed than usual, and I’d hoped that meant he was having fun, too.

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