Tw for a few brief mentions of suicide (no action).
Paige and Ralph went out for frozen yogurt. It had become their thing back when he was in his late teens, and somehow it had become their default, whenever they saw each other. Especially when they needed to be away from other people, for the sake of the other people, or their own. This time, it was both.
For a while, they focused on the stage collapse, the benefits and drawbacks of the rush to put it on social media, and then small talk about the weather and the decision to raise the local speed limit five miles per hour on the highway. Paige was avoiding talking about home, and she knew that Ralph could tell. Eventually, he asked about Florence and Tilly, then about Amber. She felt like a witness getting cross examined, lead into a trap.
"How are you and Dad doing?" He asked her eventually.
Womp, there it is. "We're fine."
"Mom. You know I'm not that unaware. I can tell when I call during an argument. You've essentially vanished from each other's social media, and I know you all don't use it that much but there's usually pictures every couple weeks, and lately you've been sharing 'open letters' written by angsty college kids about communication and photos of Amber's finger paintings. He hasn't been online at all. For all the practice you had when I was a baby, you actually aren't that good at pretending things are okay."
Paige sighed. "Ralph, the whole team is going through a lot right now. And the fine points of my relationship with your father isn't your concern."
"Alright, then I'll just point out that he isn't my father. I can play whatever angle I need to here."
Paige sighed again. She was close to it just being muscle memory. "Things have changed. He's got that brain trauma, we're both more distant than we've been in a long time. Relationships are complicated – "
"Are you guys getting divorced?" Ralph asked.
Paige's face softened. "Ralph…"
"Don't 'Ralph' me. I'm twenty years old. I can handle it."
He was staring at her intensely; she could see the concern on his face, and she hated it. She was supposed to shield him from this kid of stuff. I could be 100, Ralph would be 78, she'd told Happy once, and she would still worry about him, and want to protect him. Of course, she didn't like that memory, because it was a scathing indictment of her math skills. "I don't have plans to leave him," she said. "We do have Amber to think about."
"Mom." Ralph looked alarmed.
She was confused. "What?"
"If it's that bad, go."
It was Paige's turn to look alarmed.
"I mean it. I love you, and I love Walter, and both of you and your relationship mean so much to me. But don't stay together for Amber. Some people are better apart. Some people are better parents apart. Amber deserves an environment that isn't all tension and people snapping at each other. If it's really that bad, where you'd be gone already if Amber didn't exist, then as much as it hurts to say this, you should leave."
Paige called home before bed, to check in on Amber. "She's well. She's already asleep," he said. "I can get her…"
Don't disturb her, Paige wanted to snap, but she didn't. "No, that's all right," she said. "Thank you for the offer, though."
"Of course." There was a long silence. Then Walter cleared his throat. "We are taking the kids on a little road trip tomorrow, a little beach area near where we rescued those Boy Scouts from Virginia. Remember that one?"
Paige did. It was shortly after Amber was born, so she'd stayed behind in the garage, but she never forgot a detail of cases where kids were involved. "That will be fun."
"Yeah. Should be."
There was another silence. Paige wanted to break it, but she didn't know how. This was what they were, now. Long silences. Fighting between the silences.
"Well, I should probably go. We're getting up early."
"Okay. Make sure she has her sunscreen." At the lack of response from Walter, Paige added. "I'm not saying you wouldn't remember, I'm just…I'm her mother."
"I know," he said, sounding annoyed, but Paige didn't escalate. "I'll take pictures for you."
"Thanks. I should probably…"
"Yeah, it's later there."
"Yeah."
"Are you ready, Tad?" Toby asked.
The boy shook his head. "It's high."
They were standing at the edge of the rocks, the water about eight feet below. Cabe was at the bottom, treading water. "Come on down, kiddo!" he called. "It's all good down here, the water's great!"
"It's high," Tad said again.
"Would it help if I went first?" he asked.
Tad bit his lip and nodded.
"You'll follow me, right?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Can I see your cannonball?"
Tad lowered himself to the rock, assuming the position.
"Good boy. Do that, you'll get a nice big splash. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Hey," Toby said, reaching over and tapping Tad lightly on the shoulder, "you do not have to do it. I just think it's something you'll like."
"I will do it, Dad."
"Okay. Watch me?"
Tad got to his feet. Toby grinned at him, then leapt out over the water, tucking up his knees. "Cowabunga!"
He hit the water, closing his eyes and paddling back to the surface. "Hey," Cabe said. "I was expecting the kid."
"Surprise." Toby wiped the water from his face and gestured up toward his son. "Your turn, Tad!"
Tad stood at the edge of the rock, looking down."
"Come on, buddy, just like I did."
"Come on, Tad!" The new voice was Happy. She was sitting on the sand with Ellie and Amber. The younger, less skilled swimmers were making a sandcastle.
Tad jumped off the rock, curling into a cannonball. "California!"
"Hey, he did it!" Cabe said when Tad resurfaced. "Look at you."
"Wave to Mom," Toby said, pointing toward the beach. Tad grinned, waving enthusiastically at Happy. She turned, said something to Ellie and Amber, and then they turned and waved too.
"Can we do it again?" Tad asked.
"Of course. Do you want to take him this time?" Toby asked Cabe.
"It scared you, huh?" Cabe asked.
"It did not."
"Here, Ellie bean," Happy said, handing over a plastic bucket. "Go get more water. If the sand is damp, it holds better. Go on."
Ellie darted for the ocean. Happy put a hand up over her eyes, shielding them from the sun, as she kept an eye on her daughter. Ellie never expressed a desire to go more than ankle deep, but with Toby and Tad both out farther, over where the rock cliff curved outward, the little girl might be tempted to try and join them.
"Hey." Walter appeared next to her, dropping down onto his towel next to Amber, who was busy clapping the plastic scoops together like they were cymbals. "That was Sylvester on the phone, he and Florence are coming by after all."
"Together? They're coming together?"
"I guess they saw Tilly…or rather, they saw Tilly yesterday, and she texted him that night that she was glad she went. And he told her about us hanging out, and she didn't want to come with the rest of us so he offered to drive with her so it was less overwhelming."
"I'm glad he's making that effort," Happy said. "In sickness and in health, you know. She feels worthless and she feels like she's a disappointment, and us just ignoring it or going tough love on her would just validate those feelings and make her worse."
"Yeah." Walter was quiet. "I think she is trying. Or wants to, anyway. Or is…but it's hard for the outside to see."
Happy realized she hadn't had eyes on Ellie for nearly one minute. She whipped her head around. It took her a frantic moment or two before she located her, ten feet or so away, digging in the sand. She was at least twenty – five yards from the water. Happy breathed a sigh of relief.
"Ellieeeee!" Amber called. The older child looked up, got up, grabbed the bucket, and ran the short distance to the sandcastle.
"Dump it on the sand like this, right there," Happy said. Then you can use that to pack around this tower.
Amber took one of the scoops and began digging. "Moat."
"The moat goes around the castle, Ambie," Walter said.
"So we put the castle here," Amber said, leaning over and trying to pull the assembled part of the sand castle over toward her.
"No!" Ellie said, and Happy prepared herself for a fight. Instead, she jumped up and sat on the other side, directly across from Amber. "Not like that. Like this." She placed her hands at the base and pushed a little. "You help from your side." Somehow, the two girls got it moved next to the hole Amber was digging with minimal damage.
"Look at those little team players," Walter said with a smile.
"I'm in the kite team at school, Uncle Walter," Ellie said.
"The what team?"
"It's a kite flying club," Happy said. "It's advertised as a mixture of fun while learning about the intricacies, age appropriate learning. One of her friends is signed up, too, from the preschool. Apparently four and five – year – olds are at a good age to start learning about it."
"Megan helped me build my first kite," Walter reminisced.
Ellie looked over at Happy. Happy wasn't entirely sure how much her youngest knew about Megan, but it was clearly enough to seek her mother's advice on how to respond. "Uncle Walter's sister," she said. "Who Uncle Sly was married to before Aunt Florence."
"Yes. I know," Ellie said, directing her eyes to the sand. She continued to add on to the sandcastle.
"Daddy, help," Amber said.
"Help with what, sweetie?"
Amber made a circling motion with her hand. "Help."
"With the moat?"
"Yes."
Walter got up on his knees, leaning over and tracing around the sand castle with his finger. "Can you dig along this line?"
Amber started digging.
"Amber. What do you say?"
"Please."
Happy smirked. Walter had dropped the ball on the first half of that lesson.
He recovered quickly. "Good. And what do you say after I help you?"
"Thank you."
Walter smiled.
"Now you say 'you're welcome,' Uncle Walter," Ellie said, pointing a piece of driftwood at him. "Tsk tsk."
Happy smirked again. "Ellie, let's not be sassy."
"Sassy is her middle name, middle name, middle name…" Ellie started singing, to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.
"Well, that's interesting," Walter said.
"I have a feeling her father sang that around her and it just stuck."
Amber suddenly let out a shriek, one that startled the adults until they followed where she was looking. Sylvester was walking toward them, a bag over his shoulder and towels tucked under his arm. They could barely see Florence from the angle, but she was a few paces behind him.
Amber and Ellie were on their feet almost instantly, and they ran across the sand. Sylvester dropped to his knees, hugging both of them at once. A few feet behind, Florence stopped, a small, unsure smile on her face.
Ellie untangled from Sylvester first and ran to Florence with her arms out. Walter and Happy exchanged glances, but Florence put on a smile that almost looked real, leaned over, and picked the girl up, spinning her around once before tucking her chin into the child's shoulder, giving her a tight hug. "Hi, sweet girl," she said.
"Is Tilly alive?" Amber asked Sylvester.
"Amber Florence O'Brien," Walter said sternly.
"Tilly is doing marvelously," Sylvester said not missing a beat.
Happy looked at Walter, dropping her voice. "Our friend is a saint."
Florence set Ellie down, and the girl grabbed her aunt's hand as they walked over to the others. "Florence," Happy said. "I'm glad you were able to come."
She shrugged. "I mean, not like I'm busy."
"That's not the only able that I'm talking about," Happy said.
"Well," Florence said. "I've been so…" she shifted her weight. "Neck ache, back ache, muscles protesting everything I do. It'll be good to get out and stretch and relax."
Sylvester spread a towel. "It will also be good to get some sun," he said. "Even though I burn so, so easily."
"I burn worse than you," Florence said. "I need to get my sunblock on."
"If you need help with your back, I can do it," Happy offered.
"Thanks."
"Aunt Florence!" Tad was charging out of the water, Cabe and Toby walking more leisurely behind him.
Florence settled on the towel, patting the spot beside her. "Hey Tad, come sit."
"She seems to be trying," Walter said as Sylvester shook out a second towel.
"She is. She'll come around. I know she will."
There was still worry in his eyes. That didn't escape any of the other adults.
"What's for lunch?" Toby asked, finally bringing Tad in from the ocean. Cabe followed behind, a towel around his shoulders.
"Sandwiches," Walter said. "I'm not fancy."
"Sand witches?" Toby said. "Man. I was prepared for sandcastles, but sand witches? Whoo, I don't know about that, kiddos."
Tad rolled his eyes. Ellie giggled. Amber ignored him. She was pulling on her father's leg hair.
"Wow, tough room," Toby said, kneeling down beside the cooler.
"Amber, stop it," Walter said. "That hurts."
"No it doesn't."
"It hurts me."
"Oh." Amber turned to Toby. "Sandwiches?"
"There's a slow echo on this beach," Sylvester said.
"I'd expect that in the cave," Toby said, taking the foil wrapped sandwiches out of the cooler and beginning to pass them around.
"Hmmm?" Cabe asked.
"Cave," Toby said again, louder. "You really are an old man now, aren't you? I'm talking about the Beaver Dam."
"Beavers?" Tad asked. "I learned about beavers. They're in the Narnia books."
"Yes, they are," Happy said. "The cave is out there." She pointed to one of the places where the rocks curved outward into the sea. "You have to go underwater to reach it, like how beavers take shelter."
"Is that why it's called the Beaver Dam?"
"Beaver Dam Cave," Toby said with a nod. "There's signs up closer to it, warning people that going into it is at their own risk. They should be bigger, I think. Adults can get in and out fine, but it's not safe for kids."
"You're saying that so I don't try," Tad said.
"Partly," Toby admitted. "Partly because it really isn't safe unless you're a very strong swimmer."
"It's stupid, Tad," Sylvester said. "Don't worry about it. Staying on shore is a lot safer."
"Thank you, Uncle Sly," Happy muttered before biting into her sandwich.
Ellie was pulling the crust off her sandwich and dropping it onto Amber's makeshift plate. "Wow," Cabe said as the youngest child picked up a handful of the crusts and shoved it into her mouth, "that's the kind of friend you want, huh?"
Florence waded out into the ocean. She remembered stories of people who just walked out as far as they could go, then farther, and just vanished. She didn't want to do that. Thinking about doing something didn't mean intent. It just meant that her brain processed every possible outcome. That was a blessing and it was a curse.
Drowning was not peaceful. She'd read it was one of the worst ways to die. It wasn't as easy as slipping below the surface and falling asleep. People who drown themselves, Florence thought, must really want to die. Or to torture themselves, feel as much pain as possible because they thought they deserved it.
She did not want to die. She wanted to feel better. The problem was she didn't have the energy, or the willpower, or the ability to trust a complete stranger with these complicated feelings that drained her of energy and put her in that fog. Someone with two broken legs couldn't just force themselves to walk. And they wouldn't be expected to. So why was it, when someone's brain was sick, that they were told to 'just' do something? Just see a therapist. Just go for a run. Just eat better. It was just so damn simple to some people.
Birds were flying a couple hundred yards a head of her, nearly skimming the water. They didn't need assistance. It came naturally to them, to soar.
"Florence?"
She jumped, but by the time she'd turned around, the startle was gone. "Hi," she said. "I wasn't up to anything."
Sylvester cocked his head. "Well, now I'm concerned."
"Don't be. Where are the others?"
"Happy and Toby went to load the food stuff back in the van, and then they wanted to go explore a bit. The others are burying Cabe. That sounded morbid. Walter and the kids are digging a hole and covering Cabe to the shoulders. He's going to be kneeling. But still. Tad thought it up and Amber thinks the idea is hilarious."
"Mmm." She cracked a small smile. "Remember when we were at Zuma, and Paige so badly wanted to do chicken fights?"
"We all thought it was a dumb sounding game, and we ended up having so much fun."
"Happy and Toby had the best fun, since they won."
"We were terrible at it, which frustrated the heck out of you."
"It was mock competitiveness," she protested, a grin threatening to come over her face.
"I don't know, the way you tried to pull Paige off Walter by her hair seemed pretty real."
"We could have won that round if you hadn't stopped me."
He laughed. "I don't doubt it."
"We laughed so hard that day," she said. "We all did. But you and I, especially."
"That we did. We were so – "
"Stupid in love," she said right along with him. "That we were." She stepped closer to him. "Thank you," she said.
He cocked his head.
"You know. For making me get out. I'm glad to be here. It's so painful to drown. No," she added quickly at the slight alarm on his face. "I told you, I didn't come out here for that. I just mean, I knew I didn't want to die. But thinking about how horrifying dying must be like, it makes me more conscious of the fact that despite how heavy and opaque I feel," she squeezed his arm, "I want to be here."
He leaned down and kissed her. She was surprised, but welcomed it, kissing him back immediately. He put his hands on her waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck, a hand on the back of his head to keep him right where he was.
This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. They were living separately, had been speaking only in stilted text messages and awkward filler conversation at work up until the day before, when she'd told him she didn't love their child. They were a mess.
But she was so quickly getting distracted from all of that by kissing him. She was feeling all the same feelings she had weeks ago, in their bedroom, when she'd thought she wanted intimacy and then realized how much she was actually dreading it. But this time, as she wrapped her legs around his waist and let out a soft moan as he pulled her closer, those feelings that had vanished so quickly the last time stubbornly refused to go away.
They were about forty feet off shore. They could sink low enough in the water to get up to things without the others noticing. But Walter, Cabe, and the three children were still technically in sight. Florence pulled her head back, away from Sylvester. The way he instantly looked toward the shore told her he had identical concerns.
"There's the – " she started, gesturing to the Beaver Dam, the large formation that they knew had the cavern inside. It was mere yards away. Sylvester nodded, taking a moment to catch his breath. "Good idea."
She took a breath and dove under, making sure she'd cleared the rock wall and slowly drifting to the surface, Sylvester right behind her. They burst clear of the water at the same time, wiping their eyes. A second later, four people were screaming.
Walter was on his feet in a second, bolting for the shore. Cabe scrambled out of the hold – it was only about two feet deep – and grabbed Amber and Ellie, barking at Tad to stay put.
Walter had just reached the water, standing knee deep and staring out, trying to determine what had happened, when the other four members of the day trip popped up out of the water. They all turned to each other, yelling, gesticulating, but none of those on the shore could tell what was being said. Then they began to make their way toward the sand.
"What the hell happened?" Cabe called as they got closer.
"He was – " Sylvester started.
"They – " began Toby.
"Don't you dare," Happy snapped.
Florence, who had been yelling something at Toby while out in the water, just looked mildly terrified.
"One at a time," Cabe said. "I don't even care who starts."
"We were just going to check out the cave," Florence said. "And they…"
"We were also checking out the cave," Toby said.
"I typically have more on when I check out caves," Sylvester said.
"We went somewhere private," Happy said. "It isn't our fault you two decided to come barging in to…what on Earth were you going into the cave for?"
"We saw their bathing suit areas," Sylvester said to Walter. "I will be embarrassed about it for the statistically remaining fifty eight percent of my life."
"Oh Lordy," Cabe said. "Kids, come with me."
"What is a bathing suit area?" Ellie asked.
"It's where you go to put your swimsuit on," Cabe said. "Like the pool area at a hotel is where you go to swim." He grabbed each of the smallest kids' hands. "Tad, come with, please."
Tad had a look on his face that implied that he understood just enough of the chaos to be uncomfortable.
Florence dropped to the towel, her hands on the side of her face, like blinkers on a race horse, blocking her peripheral vision.
"Exposing myself to my coworkers is not how I expected to spend today," Happy said. "Where on Earth did you think we were?" She asked Sylvester and Florence.
"We weren't chilling in the water thinking about you guys," Sylvester retorted.
"What were you thinking about?" Toby said. "You guys had some pretty smug looks on your faces before it registered that we were there."
"We were excited to explore the cave," Sylvester said.
"Literally at lunch you said you had no interest in it."
"Guys," Walter said, raising his eyebrows at them and gesturing toward Florence's towel. She still had her hands up, limiting her vision, but she was now lying on her side, facing away from them, bunched up as if she was cannon balling off the cliff.
"I should not have kissed you," Sylvester said, breaking the silence that had followed a solid ten minutes of small talk. "I am sorry."
Florence kept her eyes on the road. It was getting dark now; they'd all managed to spend another two hours at the beach, for the kids' sake, before loading up for home. "I didn't push you away, did I?"
"No. But you'd previously set boundaries, and I crossed those boundaries. It was inappropriate of me. I disrespected you, which is the last thing I ever thought I'd do."
"I didn't feel disrespected," Florence said. "But thank you. I really appreciate the apology anyway." She looked down. "And I'm sorry that I continued it."
"You're sorry?"
"Yes," she said. "I am. Because I'm still not ready for sex. I know that. And I know where that was leading and I know if Happy and Toby hadn't been in that cave we would have let things continue until a point where I freaked out and said no again." She pushed her toes into the sand. "I don't have the energy. I'm too tense. And things still are a little uncomfortable, you know, and I don't know if a shorter or longer recovery period is the norm for early deliveries but I just don't feel back to normal down there, on top of feeling so off about everything else."
"I mean, then I could also add on that I shouldn't have assumed you were better and even if you wanted to…I mean, I should have asked if you were sure."
"And you would have. I know you. Consent has always been so important to you. It's one of the things that always made me feel comfortable. And safe. And all that." She sighed. "And we're not together, but we aren't not together either, and everything is blurred and I hate it and I know it's my fault."
"Being sick is not your fault."
"But what's the shelf life on that excuse, Sly?"
"You're not a box of cereal, Lori."
"I can't do therapy, Sylvester. I thought about it. I even got onto that app to make an appointment. But I can't. If that's the only option, then my options suck."
"Therapy isn't for everyone. People understand that."
"Then why is it the only thing ever suggested?" She said, shifting into the right lane. "People say see a therapist, or try harder and then see a therapist. But then they admit it isn't for everyone. So what's the option for those people? Deal with the feelings, take medication that may or may not even help, or die?"
Sylvester licked his lips. Someone had popped into his head, someone that might be able to provide a resource that could help Florence get to a point where she was more equipped to help herself.
But he wasn't sure he wanted to introduce them. And if he did, he had to make sure it was okay with Walter, first.
