Page 40 of Resorting to Romance

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” Phyllis scolds Joan. “Do you really want Brad and Mila back together?”

“Goodness, no!” Joan says.

Connie adds, “Never. Besides, Mila has Kai now. Brad isn’t an option.”

And that solidifies it for me. I do need Kai. With him in the picture, Brad will know he’s not an option for me—everyone will.

Phyllis looks over at me. “You might want to start priming the pump over time with Noah. Ask him what he would feel like if you found his father. Ask if he’d ever want to meet him one day. Don’t talk too much about it, but you need to get him prepared. He’s spent all these years never even missing the man. But you have to build a bridge eventually.”

“Not right away, though,” Connie adds.

“Definitely not. Just let him come around as a stranger at first. See how things go.”

I nod, unable to think of anything except what it will be like for my ex to be around my son—and me.

At least I’ll have Kai as a buffer.

THIRTEEN

Kai

To show a child what once delighted you,

to find the child's delight added to your own -

this is happiness.

~ J. B. Priestley

My lesson with Cody wraps up. We paddle in on the next waves. Just as I predicted, he stood after his first few attempts in the shallow water, and then he moved on to more sizable waves for the rest of the lesson. He fell off the board a good number of times, but he also caught his fair share of rides.

I feel alive after our hour in the water. The ocean always resuscitates me, clearing away the debris of life on shore, putting everything into perspective.

“That was awesome!” Cody shouts over to me as we lift our boards from the shallow shore pound and walk side-by-side onto the beach.

His family is waiting, a younger brother and sister building sand castles, while his mom reads in one of the loungers provided by the resort. His dad, who never sat down the whole time wewere out in the water, as far as I can tell, walks toward us and thanks me. Mrs. Snider calls Cody over to share the videos she took of him on her phone.

“Can we get in the water now?” Cody’s brother asks their dad, interrupting our conversation.

“We’re going back to the resort so your mom can have her massage.” Mr. Snider tells his son. “We’ll come back down here this afternoon. In the meantime, you can swim in one of the pools.”

Mr. Snider thanks me again, and I leave the family to pack up while I remind Cody how to turn his wetsuit in at the shack where our weekend part-timer, Jamison, can take care of it for him.

I instinctively look over toward the shack in time to see Mila and Noah walking this way. Cody’s loaner board and mine lay on the sand, ready for Noah to have his first lesson from me.

I watch Mila and Noah share conversation, her smile visible even at this distance, her long brown hair blowing recklessly in the onshore breeze and the skirt of her sundress following suit.

About half the way across the sand, Noah breaks into a run. He never slows, and when he’s about three feet away, I sense what he’s planning. I spread my arms wide and brace my legs just in time to catch him as he flies at me.

“You’re getting too big for that maneuver,” I say, spinning him in the air despite what I just said, and then plopping him back on his feet.

I’ve known Noah since he was three. He’s run into my arms like that for nearly as long as I can remember. Today may be the first time I realized I won’t always be able to lift him and propel him in a broad circle.

“I am getting bigger, right?” Noah puffs up just a little to prove his point.

“Big enough to start learning to surf.”

“Yep.” He beams.

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