Page 43 of From Maybe to Baby

"Dad's good at seeing sad things," Lukas informs me. "He knows when we miss Mommy."

Oh.

Oh.

The resort's activities program…

My scribbled words trail off as Jonas continues teaching his kids, his attention divided perfectly between them. Never making either feel less important. Never making them compete for his time.

Never making them feel like an interruption.

"You know what I think?" He says it casually, like he's not trying to get under my skin. "I think sometimes we hold onto old ideas so tightly, we don't leave room for new ones."

"So philosophical for a swimming lesson."

"So avoidant for a professional observation." But he's smiling as he says it, and suddenly I'm smiling too, and when did this stop feeling like the world’s worst assignment and start feeling… enjoyable?

He glances my way. “I said that formybenefit. No one else’s.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

"Miss Minty." Jace splashes. "I can dive."

She scrambles up onto the side of the pool and leans forward, her arms pointed straight over her head. What follows is less a dive and more a controlled fall-slash-belly flop but Jonas praises her like she's Olympic-bound.

Family activities provide opportunities for...

For joy, I consider? For connection? For the kind of moments I always assumed were staged for resort brochures?

"Still being professional?" Jonas calls.

I watch his kids show off their new skills, their father's attention never wavering, his patience never running out, and something shifts in me.

"I'm being thorough," I say finally. "Very thorough research."

His smile suggests he thinks I might be falling for his act.

He’s wrong.

Pretty much.

"Tellus the princess volcano story again," Jace demands as she attempts to dry herself off with a resort towel that’s twice her size.

I should say no. I should return to my room and get my damn work done. I do not need to observe any more “family activities.” I’ve gotten the gist of what they’re all about, it’s not rocket science. Give the kids something to do. Give the parents alcohol. Everybody’s happy.

And Hale Olu’olu is nice. It really is. But it’s pretty much like the fifty other resorts I’ve been to, aside from being overrun with kids, and I could do this blog write-up in my sleep.

I should maintain professional distance. Should absolutely not be sitting here making up silly Hawaiian legends just to see two tiny faces light up with wonder.

Instead, I hear myself say, "Did you know there's another story about a brave princess who lived right here?"

Both kids scoot closer, cocooned in their beach towels. Jonas settles behind them on his own lounge chair, and I definitely don't notice how good he looks drying in the sun, with his hair slicked back off his perfect forehead.

Nope. No notice at all.

"Was she pretty?" Jace asks, because obviously that's the most important detail to a three-year-old obsessed with princesses.

"Beautiful, yes, of course. But more importantly, she was brave. She used to swim with the sea turtles and dance with the waves."

---