Page 25 of Ten Years Later
He really needed that ten dollars, but he held up a hand. “If I was your father I’d make you give it back and apologize.”
Her face paled.
“Let’s simply leave it at that. You keep that ten with a promise you’ll never do it again.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “I promise.” Glancing past him down the beach, she asked, “Where’s your daughter?”
“Couldn’t come.”
“Oh. Bummer.”
They began walking along the shoreline, letting the ocean wash over their bare feet. A comfortable silence fell between them as they listened to the waves roughly lap against the shore.
A breeze kicked in, sending that awesome salty smell into the air. Overhead a pack of birds swooshed and curved, coming down in sync to skim the water’s surface. Through his sunglasses he tracked their movement.
“See the black back, white belly, and orange bill?” Emily said. “Those are Black Skimmers. They flock in large groups. You can’t tell it but their lower beaks are open. That’s why they’re touching the water. They’re rounding up fish.”
“You like bird watching?” Keaton asked.
She gave an embarrassed shrug. “It’s a stupid hobby, I know.”
“It is not a stupid hobby. I think it’s amazing and unique and shows how interesting your brain is.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I saw wildlife sketches in your pad. Have you done the Black Skimmers?”
“I have.”
“I’d love to see that sometime.”
“Okay!” Emily grinned. “Maybe you can give me some pointers.”
“Deal.”
They fell back into step. She picked up a pretty white and pink shell.
Keaton asked, “Emily, do you have any memories of your real mom?”
“Not really. Maybe one.”
“What is it?”
“This right here. Playing on the beach.”
As a family, they spent nearly every weekend at the beach.
Emily said, “She made me wear those ridiculous arm floaty things.”
Keaton’s footsteps paused. The words tiptoed to the edge of his tongue—Emily, you’re Vivian; you’re my daughter—when she said, “I looked up your daughter, Vivian Young, in our school directory. She’s not listed.”
“She just started. They’ll probably have her listed by the end of the week.”
“Oh.”
They walked for thirty more minutes, picking up shells and chatting. Keaton wanted to know everything about her and Mia, but he kept the conversation light and non-threatening.
When the time came to a close, Emily ran back up the beach to her neighborhood.
