Page 28 of Passing Ships

“That was very nice of him,” I say.

“Yeah, he’s so nice. We got ice cream and candy, and he taught me how to play football.”

My eyes fall on Lennon, who is grinning.

“We weren’t supposed to tell anyone about the ice cream,” he mutters up to her from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, right,” she whispers, covering her mouth as she giggles.

“We were just going for a swim. Why don’t you throw on a bathing suit and join us?” Lennon invites.

I look out at the water and back at him. “Sure. I’ll meet you down there.”

I run inside and dig through my suitcase until I find the new red bikini. I tear the tags off and slip it on, grab one of the beach towels from the linen closet, and head out to find them.

The sun is starting its slow descent, casting a warm golden glow over the ocean. I sit on my towel, my toes buried in the cool sand, as I watch Lennon and Leia play in the water. The waves lap calmly at the shore, their rhythm soothing and constant, a background melody to their muffled chatter that floats through the air.

It’s obvious that Lennon is in his element, knee-deep in the ocean, a broad grin stretching across his face. His dark hair is tousled by the sea breeze and glistening with salt water. There’s a youthful exuberance to him. He doesn’t seem like an uptight soldier—I mean, sailor—at the moment. Right now, he looks no older than Leia, who is splashing beside him, her giggles infectious, and I can imagine this is what he and Sebastian looked like as kids.

“Come on, Uncle Lennon!” Leia shouts, her voice rising above the sound of the waves. “Let’s see who can jump the highest!”

Lennon obliges without hesitation. He bends his knees, lowering himself in preparation, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looks at her. She mirrors his stance, her little body trembling with excitement. On the count of three, they both leap into the air, water spraying in all directions as they land back in the surf with a loud splash.

Leia’s laughter echoes across the beach, a pure, unfiltered sound that makes my heart swell.

There’s something magical about the way children experience joy—completely and without reservation. It’s a kind of happiness that’s rare in adulthood because we’re all so weighed down with worries and responsibilities and we forget how to savor simple pleasures.

Lennon picks Leia up and spins her around, and her shrieks of delight are carried by the wind. He sets her down gently, her feet sinking into the wet sand, and she immediately runs back into the water, her arms flailing as she tries to catch a particularly large wave.

I jump to my feet when I see her falter for a split second as the wave crashes against her small frame, but Lennon is there in an instant, steadying her with a reassuring hand on her back.

“Are you okay, munchkin?” he asks, crouching down to her level, concern etched across his face.

Leia looks up at him, her face serious for a moment before her mouth breaks into a wide grin. “I’m okay, Uncle Lennon! The wave was just really big!”

Relief washes over him, and he ruffles her wet hair. “You’re a brave girl, aren’t you?”

Leia puffs out her chest proudly, nodding.

I can’t help but chuckle at that. The confidence of a five-year-old.

A seagull cries overhead, drawing my attention to the horizon, where the sky is beginning to fill with shades of pink and orange. I can feel the day slowly slipping away.

“Are you just going to sit there all evening, Legs, or are you going to join us?” Lennon calls out.

I laugh, shaking my head. “Someone has to keep an eye on you two. Who knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into?”

Leia pipes up before Lennon can respond, her eyes wide, “We won’t get in any trouble. Come swim with us.”

“Maybe next time,” I say. “I’m enjoying watching you and Uncle Lennon have fun. Besides, I think it’s time for you two to come dry off so we can go inside and make dinner.”

Leia pouts for a second, but then Lennon whispers something in her ear, and her expression brightens.

Whatever he said must have been funny because she starts snickering, covering her mouth with her hands, as if she’s trying to hold it in.

“What did you tell her?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Lennon grins, a roguish glint in his eyes. Two seconds later, the two of them are racing up the beach toward me, and before I can defend myself, Lennon scoops me off the towel.

---