Page 97 of The Good Boy

The day is warm, the air still. The sea is quiet and calm.

Miles and I regard each other rather shyly.

“Eugenie,” he says, with a small bow.

“Milesington,” I reply with a curtsey. I can do that now.

“I was wondering if we might kiss again?” Miles suggests.

“I believe I have room in my schedule right now,” I say.

Hesitantly, we approach each other, with slow smiles and tilted heads. I stand up on my tiptoes and our lips almost meet when there is a loud insistent rapping at the window.

“Can we go to the beach now?” Rory asks, his nose pressed flat against the window.

“There’s always going to be three of us in this relationship, isn’t there,” Miles says with a sweet smile.

“No,” I tell him. “There’s always going to be four. Don’t forget about Matilda.”

Then we kiss anyway, even with Rory still banging on the window.

It’s still pretty early, and the tide is far out. The sea sparkles under the early morning sun, and the firm golden sand is dotted with a few early sun seekers. I scan the beach, seeing families andcouples on blankets, towels, and deck chairs, setting up for a day of just being together.

Dogs are allowed at this end of the bay, right down by the spa. Two little terriers run in and out of the waves yapping at each other. Finally, I see a figure that I recognize sitting on a chair that she has brought out from the shop: Nanna Maria, with a large black lace parasol opened over her head, bringing the Victorian Gothic funeral vibe to a day at the beach like only she can. Mum and Dad are lying on towels next to her, holding hands. Dad is reading; Mum’s face is hidden under a huge floppy sun hat. Kelly, Dave, and their two are next door, making sandcastles.

“There!” Rory hops with excitement when he spots them, and races across the sand toward them, leaving Miles and me trailing behind.

“Is he going to be all right?” Miles asks as Rory skids to a stop, covering Mum in sand. Mum sits up and hugs him for a long time. I love my mum. Not all mums are like her, endlessly kind and patient. I am one lucky girl.

“I hope he will be,” I say, thinking of how Mum cared for me all those years that I wasn’t. “All we can do is love him, and help him for as long as it takes, even if it takes forever. That’s what love is, I think.”

Miles nods. “We’ll love him and help him forever.”

We stop for a moment, exchanging glances. We are only two kisses in and yet, somehow, I know that when Miles says forever, he really means it. I mean it too.

“Forever,” I repeat, kissing him lightly on the cheek. I tell you what, if three kisses get methishot under the collar, then Lord only knows what happens when we finally get some alone time.

“Granny Rita made sausage sandwiches!” Rory says happily aswe join the family, his head in her cooler. “Oh, and cheese cubes! I love cheese cubes. Why does cheese taste better when it’s cubed, Genie?”

“One of the mysteries of the universe,” I reply.

“And how are you managing?” Mum asks Rory. “Now that it looks likes you’ll be man-shaped permanently.”

“I’m okay,” Rory says, sitting back on his heels and looking toward where the terriers are still cavorting in the waves. “At least I have Genie, and Miles too now that they do the kissing and the butt rubbing. And cheese cubes, and ziplock bags, and chocolate and kebabs and dancing. You know, being human isn’t all bad. There’s quite a lot to be happy about. I’m surprised you all moan about it so much.”

“But you’d still rather be a dog?” Mum asks.

“Yeah,” Rory says, with a shrug. “Yeah. But it’s okay, Granny Rita, I’ll be okay with Genie’s help.”

“Rory will be just fine,” Nanna announces, fanning herself with a red silk painting fan she bought in Spain. “There is one last change yet to come.”

“Whatever you say, Nan,” I say, giving Mum a look.

“You know what I feel like doing?” Dad says, as he sits up. “I feel like digging a bloody big hole for no particular reason, how about you, Rory?”

“Yeah, Grandpa,” Rory says happily. “That’s one of my favorite things to do, how did you know?”

“It was that time you dug up my azaleas that gave me a clue,” Dad says, as they move off a few feet and set about digging enthusiastically, using their hands as tools.

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