Page 32 of Molly
“We’ll get there when we get there, sweetheart.”
“You always say that, too.”
Five minutes later, we pulled into a parking space. Chloe raced around the car as soon as I unbuckled her, and I reminded her that she was in a parking lot and needed to hold a grown-up’s hand. Like an obedient little girl, she tucked her fingers into my palm but then put the pedal to the metal and pulled me across the blacktop.
If the day’s warmth had beckoned, then the sea welcomed. A breeze blew up the cliffs, bringing with it scents of salty ocean, fish, and the more pungent odors of seal and sea lion waste. While the animals were fun to watch—seals like marine sausages squished into casings lying on the sandy beach and their sea lion relatives resting on the rocks—they did not exactly have a pleasant smell.
Tall palms offered their finger-like fronds as dancing partners to the wind and waltzed above our heads as we trekked toward the water. Chloe continued to pull until we were along the sea wall, looking down at the Children’s Pool, named such because the beach had first been built as a swimming area for kids. Seals had since taken over the beach to use as a rookery for breeding. The beach had been closed since December for birthing season and now the little families sunned themselves in the temperate Southern California weather.
“Do you know the difference between a seal and a sea lion?” Molly, ever the teacher, asked Chloe.
Chloe’s face scrunched as she thought hard, then her eyes brightened. “Sea lions must be the boys, because they are so much noisier than the seals.”
Molly grinned at her. “That’s an excellent observation. You’re right, sea lions are a bit attention seeking with all that racket, aren’t they?”
Chloe nodded with all seriousness. “Just like boys.”
“Hey!” I objected, then tweaked her nose.
“There are a few easy ways you can tell seals and sea lions apart.” Molly pointed to the animals. “Besides being quite loud, sea lions have ear flaps, are brown in color, and they use their flippers to sort of walk around. Seals have a spotted coat and kind of just wiggle on their bellies to move on land.” She pressed her arms to her sides and waddled about.
Chloe giggled and joined in on the wiggling. “Come on, Daddy, be a seal with us.”
“I thought I was a loud sea lion.” Because I knew it would make her laugh, I threw my head back and gave three sharp, obnoxious, sea lion-like barks. A man nearby on his cell phone glared at our racket, but a young family a few feet away snickered.
“What are those two seals doing?” Chloe pointed out to the pool of water made calm by the breaker. “Is that one giving the other a piggyback ride?”
No. It couldn’t be.
I followed where she pointed, my mind starting to spin. Harbor seals were safe and, more importantly,private.I could bring my preschooler to see the cute little babies because all the things needed to make the cute little babies happened away from her innocent young eyes.
But there in the water, two seals were swimmingveryclose together. They dove down deeper into the dark waters, their outline fading from visibility.
What had Chloe said? Piggyback ride?
“Yes!” I shouted too loudly at the same time Molly answered, “No.”
I widened my eyes at her and gave a small shake of my head. My daughter didnotneed “the talk” at four. And wasn’t the illustration supposed to be with birds and bees and not harbor seals?
“Which is it?” Chloe asked. “Yes or no?”
Molly pressed her lips together and turned slightly away.
I crouched to be eye-level with Chloe. A gust of wind picked up strands of her dark hair and whipped them around her face. Reaching out, I tucked them behind her ear. Couldn’t she stay like this forever? Young and innocent. Sweet and thinking boys were loud and annoying. I’d freeze time if I could.
“Yes. They were just playing, sweetie.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “I thought maybe they were mating.”
My throat squeezed shut, and I coughed. “What—?” Hack, hack, hack. “Where did you hear that?”
Another shrug. “A nature show.”
Note to self—onlyOctonautsandWild Krattsto be played from now on. No more animal documentaries. Who would have thought I’d need to censorBlue Planet?
“No,” I said the same time Molly answered, “Yes.”
My eyes bugged out of my head at her. What was she thinking?
