Page 76 of A Line in the Sand

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“I do, yes.” He looked mildly embarrassed.

She gave him a playful shove. “That’s all kinds of adorable, Max. I’ll bet your Uncle Henry loves having you on the team.”

He shook his head. “I doubt it. I’m pretty terrible at it, and I kind of just ended up on the team by default.”

“Oh, really?” Molly smirked. “Keep telling yourself that.”

He arched his left eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“It means that your uncle has been playing you. Senior yoga? Flipping pancakes at SandFest? Scrabble tournaments? The wheelchair balloon volleyball league? You don’t honestly think you just stumbled into all of those activities, do you?” The situation was so obvious to Molly. Henry just wanted to spend time with Max. Couldn’t he see that?

Max thought for a minute and then shook his head. “My gosh, you’re right. All this time, I thought he was just trying to avoid talking about the aquarium. But I think it might have been his devious way of getting me to do things with him.”

“Devious…” Molly tilted her head. “Or sweet?”

“Both. Those things aren’t mutually exclusive,” he said, but there was far more than just a hint of affection in his voice.

“It worked. You totally fell for it.”

“What can I say? Sometimes I let charm override my good judgment.” He winked at her. “I’m human like that.”

Molly felt a rush of affection for him right then, like an ocean wave knocking her off of her feet. She wanted to twirl in his arms on the dance floor and kiss him beneath Opal’s magical floating jellyfish.

Before she could tell him those things, the Turtle Team descended on them. Mavis, Ethel, and Opal oohed and ahhed over Molly’s dress and how handsome Max looked in his tux. True to form, the Charlie’s Angels wore matching 1940s-style evening gowns with full ruffled skirts and opera-length white gloves. They might be pushing ninety, but they knew how to dress to make a statement. Molly could only hope to be that stylish at their age. Larry Sims stood quietly beside Mavis, looking dapper in a tux with a ruffled shirt and ultra-wide cummerbund. Sam and Violet were both dressed in black and white, Dalmatian-enthusiasts to their very cores. Violet was thrilled to report that over seventy people had already shown up, and according to Caroline, who was manning the entrance, ticket sales were through the roof.

They snapped selfies and group photos together while they still had a fraction of elbow room, and just as Max was about to dive into one of Violet’s Shark Attack cupcakes, Molly’s favorite song began playing on the gymnasium’s sound system: Bobby Darin’s “Beyond the Sea”.

She gasped. “We have to dance to this!”

“Let’s all go,” Opal said, pointing her walker toward the dance floor.

Mavis, Larry, and Ethel fell in step behind her with their walkers.

“Come on.” Violet grabbed Sam’s hand. “We can’t let them show us up.”

“Absolutely not.” Max set his cupcake down on a nearby table and guided Molly to the very center of the dance floor, his hand warm on the small of her back.

Max spun her around and around as she tipped her head back and took it all in—the decorations, the crowds, the love the community had for the aquarium. Soft purple shadows moved over Max’s face, shapes from an underwater world. When the song ended, he lowered her into a preposterously low dip as the Turtle Team cheered. It was all so perfectly ridiculous. Molly wanted the night to go on forever.

And then the music switched to a slow song, and Max held her close. When her lips brushed against his neck, his grip on her hand tightened. She closed her eyes and melted into him as he murmured into her hair.

“Molly, I…”

The chime of an incoming email on Molly’s cell phone interrupted whatever he was about to say. Her eyes flew open. The noise had come from her tiny beaded evening bag, dangling from her wrist by a delicate chain.

She blinked as if waking from a dream. “So sorry. I thought I turned that off. Let me just put it on silent real quick.”

Emails were one thing. She definitely didn’t want the phone to ring and completely spoil the evening’s fanciful mood.

“No problem.” Max flashed her a grin and released her from their dance hold so she could open her evening bag.

It was barely big enough to hold a smartphone and a lipstick, the only two items nestled inside. Molly slipped her phone from the bag, but when she went to switch it to silent mode, a preview of an incoming email flashed on the screen.

She froze in place. “Oh my God.”

The easy grin on Max’s face faded. “Is something wrong?”

Molly was vaguely aware of the Turtle Team in her periphery, dancing and swaying to the music. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion all of a sudden, just like it had when Ursula dug up the sea turtle egg at the dog beach.