Page 81 of Suddenly Entwined

The tide is as low as it gets and the girls are shrinking as they near the water. Slate grey rippled sand stretches out before us.

“I’ve missed this,” he says, shading his eyes with one hand.

“The beach?”

“Having someone to do these things with, Caro.”

I tug the ties of my hoodie tighter against the wind.

“You know, when I was in grief counselling after losing Trudy, my therapist asked me what I thought my future would look like.”

Berg draws his knees up, hugging them with his arms as he keeps a watchful eye on his daughters.

“I hated that exercise. I didn’t want to look forward. When I tried, it was just blank. That or I couldn’t imagine older versions of the girls. It felt like…”

I watch his throat bob, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“It felt like if I thought about them growing up that I’d also have to admit that I’d be doing it without her. Fairness isn’t a factor when it comes to loss, I knew that, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t mad about it.”

Lou falls over, and I grin when I see Natalie extend an arm and help her up.

“Anyway. They grew. And they grew up fast. And I still don’t really know what the future looks like…” He reaches an arm behind me and tugs me closer. I nestle my cheek on his shoulder, breathing in the salted air. “But I can tell you I’m enjoying the hell out of the present.”

Berg presses a kiss to the top of my head, holding his lips there for a long time. Then he stands, brushing the sand off his butt that inevitably made its way into our blanket.

“Race you to the water?”

I spring up, straightening my sweater.

“You’re on MacMillan.”

Chapter twenty-eight

Berg

The breeze is cool, but the sun-heated sand warms the water as the tide creeps back in. It feels nice to walk through the shallows with Caro while the girls stop every few moments to put something in their sand buckets. We’ve stayed longer than we planned to and I’ve promised them all pizza at our favourite place downtown. A squirt of cold water shoots up the leg of my shorts and I make a sound more befitting for one of my daughters.

“Ugh.” I shake my leg like I’m doing the hokey pokey.

“Dig for it, Daddy! Dig for the geoduck!” Natalie yells, running to me with her plastic yellow shovel in her outstretched hand.

I fall to my knees, digging as fast as I can with the rudimentary equipment.

“Faster!” Louisa screams.

Wet sand arcs through the air as I toss it behind me.

“I’m trying!” I yell back, thrusting my fist into the small hole but finding nothing.

I fall onto my butt, catching my breath. “Missed it.”

“Oh, well.” Louisa shrugs, continuing down the beach with Nat toward some other children.

Caro offers her hand. “Valiant effort.”

I humour her, letting her help haul me out of the damp, scratchy sand.

Holding up the yellow shovel, I scowl. “I was at a disadvantage.”

---