"I'm gonna go out and actually enjoy the beach," the sixteen-year-old scoffed, running off the porch of the shop with her obnoxiously yellow board to the shallow shore.

"Don't have too much fun!" Brady called back at her. She merely shooed off his comment with a wave of her hand. Brady sighed as Mack giggled at his side, seating herself on the arm of the loudly colorful chair Brady sat in.

"I don't like her sass," Brady commented with a smile threatening to break his trying-to-be-stern face.

"I have no idea where she gets it," Mack joked, folding her arms across her chest, chuckling a little.

Brady wrapped an arm around his wife's waist, pulling her into him slightly. "Why'd she have to be so much like you?" he whined.

This was true. Alex was smart like her mother. Not that Brady wasn't smart, but Mack had him beat when it came to a battle of wits. She had Mack's thick brown hair and her "cute button nose" as Brady had put it. She adopted both her parents' brown eyes and love for the waves. As much as it drove Brady crazy, he appreciated her headstrong and determined attitude; truly just like her mother.

"You say it like it's a bad thing," Mack smiled, "you already got a Brady-clone son in college and a dopey little blondie girl in first grade who's just like you. It's about time I get someone on my side," she beamed. Brady chortled. There was a pause. "She's a lot like her grandmother, too."

Brady looked at her, a lonely tear falling down her face. "McKenzie," he said quietly. He rarely ever called her that.

Mack quickly brought her hand up to her face to clear her tears. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Don't be sorry," Brady said, taking one of her hands and lacing his fingers with hers. Mack let her head fall to his shoulder. She sniffled as they watched their daughter surf the same shores they surfed years and years ago.

Brady's eyes veered to his side, looking at the old board that always seemed to glisten. After Brady and Mack married and Big Poppa passed, Brady decided to keep the old shop running. They had the legendary board out in the front of the shop, looking just as it did thirty years ago on the fateful tide.

"Can't be too long until the next storm," Mack remarked, also finding herself looking at the board.

"What?" Brady asked, looking up into Mack's brown eyes.

"Every thirty years, remember? It seems as if exactly thirty years ago, you and I rode to a 1962 surf-turf war on a tropical storm. Or do you not remember that?" Mack joked, nudging Brady's side.

Brady and Mack had rarely talked about the incident. It's not like anybody would believe it. They had told the tale to Alex and Alan as children and still tell it to seven-year-old little Clara, when they couldn't sleep, but such a story held so much fictional element that they thought nothing of it.

"How could I forget?" Brady smiled at her.

XXX

That evening, Brady found himself in the shop waxing some of the boards in front of the TV watching Wet Side Story for the umpteenth time that summer. Mack had still found his infatuation with it to be silly, but Alex loved the movie and watched it with her father every time he put it in.

Alex skipped in the shop with a wide grin gracing her face. She announced her presence, "Guess what?"

Before Brady or Mack could respond, she squealed and ran to her father's side and exclaimed her love for the film, her earlier excitement fleeing as she watched the movie, enthralled.

Brady chuckled, "What was so exciting?"

"Luke tells me that in a few-"

Brady cut her off, raising an eyebrow, "Luke? Who's Luke?" he questioned.

"Brady," Mack said from the sofa, nearly scoldingly. Brady quirked his eyebrows at her.

Alex looked down and tucked a falling lock of wet brown hair behind her ear. "Never mind."

Brady laughed, "Continue,"

Alex went on about a storm coming from up north and how it's going to cause huge waves on the shore in a few days. Brady merely arched an eyebrow at her, and Mack watched, laughing. Alex stopped midsentence.

"Why is that so funny?" she asked with venom.

Mack stopped laughing, "You sound like teenage Brady thirty years ago."

Brady laughed. "More like teenage Mack! You were the one that just had to get out there. I was the one that had to go out save your ass!" Brady joked.

"Well, we all know how that ended!" Mack teased.

"Yeah, okay…" Alex said, chuckling as she watched her parents play-fight. "I'm off to bed. Don't go too crazy."

"Don't you want to watch the rest of Wet Side Story with me?" Brady called to his daughter.

"I'm good," she claimed, leaving the room.

"No thinking about boys!" Brady called jokingly. Alex waved it off with a whatever and kept walking.

Brady took a seat next to Mack on the couch and sighed.

"Maybe she'll go to Wet Side and relive the movie. Mess up the plot some other crazy way." Mack teased.

Brady huffed disapprovingly, "Like I'd ever let her on the water at a time like that."

Mack shrugged. "Maybe that Luke boy will go with her."

Brady groaned and winced as if he were in physical pain. Mack merely laughed. "I highly doubt anything's going to happen," she assured him, "Get to work, Blondie. Those boards aren't going to wax themselves," she smirked.

"Oh, yeah. She definitely gets it from you," Brady remarked with a jesting smile as he got up and kissed her cheek before going at his work again.

Eh? I really hope this was nice to read and I hope you're excited for more! Leave a review down below on what you like, want, and don't want in this story! It'll be great, I SWEAR! Gee, ain't Brack just the sweetest little ship you ever did see? Hm, well don't forget to review, follow, and favorite!