Sand and Sea
She plops her large tote bag down on the beach, no longer caring about stray grains of sand finding their way inside.
She is only trying to find an extra hair band, misplaced after she removed her sweatshirt from the bag.
When she finally locates the cumbersome elastic band she looks up only to realize that House has disappeared from sight.
The mist is thick this early in the morning. She isn't really sure how she convinced him to take a vacation, but once they made it to the coast opposite of Jersey, she knew
he was glad they did it.
Then she sees him.
He is standing on the edge of the ocean.
The cool pacific tide barely lapping at his toes, his cane discarded somewhere nearby; ineffectual on the uneven surface.
He has his long swim trunks on, even though there is no way anyone would swim in water this cold, this early in the morning, and his upper body is covered in a plain blue
long sleeved shirt he's probably had for fifteen years.
He rests his weight on his good leg, but he sways softly from side to side.
She abandons her bag and begins the journey towards him.
Her feet make no sound over the damp sand.
When she reaches him, she rests her hands on his shoulders, feeling the soft fabric of his well worn shirt, and the warmth his skin has permeated into it.
She slides her hands down to wrap around his waist, stands on her tip toes, and rests her chin on his shoulder, peering down at the little life cradled in his arms.
The toddler's head is nestled in one of house's elbows, and his little legs are flopped over the side of House's other arm.
The little boy is wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up, his nearly black hair peaking out from under the fabric.
She remembers a few months after Elijah was born, his true hair color was revealed as charcoal.
House had raised an eyebrow, silently accusing her of copulating with an Eastern European man.
She had scoffed, slapped his shoulder, and told House to look into the baby's eyes; there would be no question then.
Cameron reaches around House's arm and brushes Eli's hair away from his closed eyes.
Though her movement is gentle, it's enough to rouse him from his dozing. House simply stares at the child in his arms.
His strong hands accentuate the smallness and delicateness of his son.
When Eli opens his eyes, they are met by their older, but identical counterparts.
When the haze of his nap disperses and the identity of his holder registers, he gives a baby smile.
House returns it.
She doesn't say anything.
She stays frozen not wanting to intrude on this intensely personal moment.
When Eli slips his eyes closed again, House's gaze finally leaves the baby and looks out at the tumbling water. She leans her weight into his back a little, affectively
nudging him, making House twist his neck, regarding her.
"He's beautiful isn't he?"
She asks already knowing the answer, just wanting to hear his response.
He just nods, too at peace in this single moment to make any sort of wisecrack.
She kisses the back of his neck and moves away from his body.
She wanders a little way down the beach, watching her footprints disappear moments after she makes them.
House stays put, not trusting his one working limb to support him and the kid.
At this hour, they are alone on this stretch of beach.
It's crisp, but not unpleasantly so.
The only sound she can hear over the waves is of her son's laughter.
She turns to see that House is now lying on his back on the sand, holding a fully awake Elijah over his head. Both are smiling, and the look of pure contentment on House's
face in this moment, resonates through her body.
He is still has so much power over her.
One smile, one laugh, and she is sent reeling.
Of course, the opposite is true.
One cutting comment, one day spent ignoring her, and she is dejected.
She won't think about that now.
Deciding she has had enough time to herself, she returns to her boys and sits down on the sand.
House is holding-more like wrestling- with Eli in the way that only fathers can do with their children.
When he sees his mother, however; he immediately crawls over into her lap.
They sit in a comfortable silence for a quite some time before she needs to know what he is thinking.
"This is a good day."
She says it almost as a question.
House motions to Eli with a nod of his head,
"He won't remember it."
She shrugs,
"We will."
A small smile graces his features and he nods.
He places his hand on Eli's head, his fingers playing with his baby soft hair.
He kisses her softly.
He decides this is as close to happy as he will ever get.
