Page 89 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“There’s a café nearby that looked like it had good egg sandwiches.”
“Yum.”
I remove our drinks from the carrier, setting them on the table in the corner before I curl my body into the chair. Jameson joins me and pulls out a wrapped sandwich, passing one to me.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I burned a shocking amount of calories since I last ate.
“This smells delicious.” I bite into the bagel. I chew and swallow, adding, “And it tastes delicious too.”
He chuckles, eyes glimmering with amusement behind his glasses. “I’m glad I made a good choice.”
“Thank you for this getaway,” I say softly, struggling to meet his eyes because I know I’ve been off, and I feel guilty for it. “I needed this.”
He leans over and kisses me. “Anytime, babe.”
We finish our breakfast and are about to leave for a whale watching boat trip when my phone rings with a call from Spencer, which really means it’s a call from Monroe.
I answer with a smile. As much as I’m enjoying myself, I miss my girl.
“What’s my favorite girl up to?”
“Mom!” She practically screams in my ear. I have to pull the phone away from my ear and Jameson suppresses a chuckle.
“Yep, that’s me. Mom. And remember, you don’t have to yell into the phone.”
“Sorry,” she says. “I get excited.”
“I know,” I laugh, following Jameson to the stairs. “Are you having fun with your dad?”
“Yeah! We’re building Legos!”
I pinch my brow. She’s still yelling. I hear Spencer saying something to her, but I can’t make out the words.
“Sorry,” she whispers. “I forget I’m not supposed to yell.”
I don’t point out that I reminded her approximately two and a half seconds ago.
“What else have you done besides build Legos?”
“Daddy’s teaching me to surf.”
I press my lips together and hope I don’t sound irritated when I say, “Oh. Is he?”
I have to remind myself that while we’re co-parents, I can’t police everything he does with her.
There’s some shuffling and then the phone must get switched to speaker, because Spencer says, “Not surfing. We were bodyboarding and don’t worry, I’ll make sure her cast is covered and fully waterproofed.”
That has me sighing in relief.
I have no doubt that Roe will be on a surfboard young, but I feel like it’s still too soon at her age.
“Bodyboarding,” Roe repeats. “That’s the one.”
“Do you like it?” We reach the bottom floor and Jameson takes my freehand.
“Iloveit,” she draws out the word into more syllables than it actually contains. “Will you come out with us one day? Daddy says you know how to surf.”
“Maybe,” I say.
