Page 74 of Second Dance
I raised my hand. “That was me.”
“Mom never takes days off,” Grace said, smiling at me. “This is awesome.”
“I think a day off on a beautiful summer day is just what I need,” Gillian said.
“We’ll have Sonya pack us a lunch,” I said. “We can bring the boogie boards.”
Gillian met my eyes over the girls’ heads. “Let’s do it. But no boogie boarding for me. I’ll just watch.”
“Why?” I asked. “Afraid to get your face wet?”
“Mom’s kind of afraid of the waves,” Grace said.
“You are?” I raised both eyebrows. “How come?”
Gillian flushed, rolling her eyes. “It’s sort of dumb but, when I first moved here, I took a surfing lesson, thinking I’d be good at it, given my dance background. I was not good at it. In fact, I almost died during my second attempt to get up on the board. A riptide took me out to sea and I had to be rescued by a lifeguard. It was mortifying. And, as my head pounded into the sand, it occurred to me, more so than it ever had before. I was all Grace had. I could not die learning to surf.”
“But sometimes people can’t help but die,” Bella said, looking down at her muffin, a lone tear traveling down her cheek. “They don’t want to go, but cancer doesn’t care. It just takes them anyway.”
“Oh, Bella, honey, I’m sorry,” Gillian said. “That was very insensitive of me.”
Bella looked across the table at Gillian. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I wish I wasn’t this way.”
Grace moved her chair closer to Bella’s so their forearms were touching on the table. “You don’t have to pretend with my mom or with me. It’s okay to be sad and to miss your mom.”
Bella leaned her head against Grace’s shoulder. I had to look away as tears sprang to my eyes. Grace was so much like Gillian. So open and sensitive. Bella and I could do worse when it came to new best friends.
The path to the cove threaded through dunes and humming beach grass. Our boardwalk skimmed the dunes, planks warm under my feet as grasses hissed in the breeze. I'd had it built to keep the sand in place—low and simple, just enough to protect the slope. Our little cedar cabana waited where the path met the cove, gray with salt and fitted with louvered doors. Inside werehooks and cubbies, a crate of rolled Turkish towels, sunscreen, a first-aid kit, and racks for the boards. Sailcloth stretched from the eave to a discreet windbreak, throwing a wedge of shade over two low chairs.
Peter grabbed boards for all three of them and they took off for the water, boogie boards tucked under their arms, whooping as they plunged into the surf.
I slid the cooler into the built-in and dropped the canvas bag on the bench. For a moment, I stood, taking in the way the light sparkled on the water like a handful of silver dimes.
“They forgot about lunch,” Gillian said.
“I guess they’re not hungry.”
“They will be after a bit,” Gillian said, laughing. “And return feral.”
“For sure.” I settled beside her, kicking off my sports sandals to dig my toes into the soft sand, and tried not to stare as she pulled her coverup over her head. But it was hard. She wore a blue bikini, modest, but not enough to hide her spectacular dancer’s physique.
She stretched her long legs out in front of her, sand covering her feet, except for the tips of her toes, painted a coral pink.
We watched in companionable quiet—Grace showing Peter how to time the swell, Bella copying her stance. “Grace grew up doing this,” Gillian said. “So I hope she’s not being too bossy.”
“Nah, Bella and Peter are having a great time.”
“It’s nice, right?”
“Absolutely.” Gratitude thickened my voice. “I didn’t think it was possible just a few days ago. Thank you for hanging in there with us.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Having you back in my life, it feels … I don’t even know how to say. Wonderful, I guess. Yes, very wonderful.”
“I feel the same.”
I took off my shirt, slinging it over the back of the chair and reached into the cooler for a sparkling water for each of us.
We sipped our drinks and watched the kids, the air scented with sunscreen, seaweed and driftwood drying in the sun.
“This stretch of beach is amazing,” Gillian said.
