36. Girls Just Want to Have Fun
Girls Just Want to Have Fun
Charlotte
I roll into the gravel driveway and put my Escort in Park behind Arden’s black Cadillac. This place is bigger than it looked in the photo Arden sent and doesn’t exactly match my request for “normal,” but it is slightly more down-to-earth than the other places I’ve been with him.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my denim shorts, then step out of the car into the crisp sunshine of a warm spring day. My floral canvas duffel bag sits next to Bronnie’s purple suitcase in the hatch.
When I move to the backseat and lift Bronnie from her booster seat, she looks around with wide eyes.
“What,” she whispers in delight, “is this place?”
“It’s a cabin where people stay on vacation. You’ve never had one of those. We're going to have fun.”
Her gaze falls on the pontoon at the end of the dock, the giant Jenga blocks on the huge porch. The cornhole and ladder ball games set up on the lawn.
She nods seriously. “Yes, we are.”
When she squirms to be put down, I give her my “I am so serious, young lady” expression. “Do you see the lake?”
She nods. “It’s the ocean.”
“It’s big like an ocean. You don’t go near that water without an adult with you.”
She scowls. “I won’t get drownded. I know how to swim.”
“This is different than the YMCA or the college. There are waves and no lifeguard here. Besides, it’s too cold to get in the water, anyway. You’d freeze your little tootsies off.” I tickle her toes where they peek out of her sandals. “I’ll let you run around if you stay away from the water.”
She points down the beach where, a distance away, two children run unattended along the shoreline. The taller one picks up a stick and hurls it into the water. The younger one laughs and shoves the tall boy toward the breaking waves. “Those kids are allowed.”
I bite my lip. Surely, that isn’t Henry and Gabriel unattended. “You’re not those kids.”
I scan the shoreline, seeking whatever adult should be supervising them. There he is . A man walks at a slight distance from the boys, hard to spot at first glance, but swiveling his head in constant vigilance, watching both the boys and their surroundings.
Behind me, a door closes, and steps sound on the porch stairs. I turn and Bronnie slides to the ground in my lax grip.
My cheeks ache from the strength of my smile.
Arden grins down at me, lighter brown streaks glint in his dark hair, a result of time spent in the sun. Lines crinkle at the outer edges of his twilight-blue eyes, and if his perfectly straight white teeth don’t actually blind me with their sparkle, it’s a very near thing. A few days of beard growth covers his jaw, an attempt to change his “look.”
I reach up to scrub my fingers through the unfamiliar facial hair. “I like the disguise.”
He winks, then opens his arms. I launch myself at him, and he folds me against his strong body, cradling my head with his palm and tucking me under his chin.
“Charlotte Miller,” he murmurs against my hair. “You’re here.”
I choke on a laugh, then sniffle.
“Are you crying?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m happy.”
“Me too.”
“Mister Arden.” Bronnie’s voice pipes beside us, and I step out of Arden’s hug. Her entire hand wraps around two of his fingers.
Dropping into a crouch, Arden brings himself closer to eye level with my daughter. “Bronwyn Elizabeth Miller. It’s an honor to meet you.”
Bronnie eyes him with sudden narrow-eyed suspicion. “What’s that mean?”
“It means I’m really, really happy you’re here. It’s how ship captains speak to pirate princesses.”
She dimples at him. “Argh, matey. It’s a honor, matey.”
Arden nods with a smile, then rubs the heel of his hand under his left eye.
“You smell good.” Bronnie’s words sound like an accusation.
Arden glances up at me. “Thank you?”
“No. Because Uncle Travis smells like machine oil and stinky cigarettes, and Grandad smells like snuff and wood chips, but you smell good .”
“Ah. Do you dislike the way I smell?”
I wait nervously for her judgment as Bronnie watches him for long moments, eyes narrowed to crystal blue slits and pink lips pursed. Finally, she nods approvingly. “I’ll get used to it. You should tell Uncle Travis how to smell good.”
Arden glances up at me, and I suppress my smile. Teresa’s husband could use some guidance in that direction.
“Thank you for my flowers and my pirate ship,” Bronnie says, exactly the way we practiced in the car.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for the chocolate chip cookies.”
“We made them with love.”
Arden’s smile spreads so wide, it breaks into a chuckle. “I heard about that. Thank you, Bronnie.”
He glances past her. “Here come the boys.”
Sure enough, the two boys who’d been running along the shore were Henry and Gabriel. They stop short approximately five feet away and eye Bronnie and me like we’re wild animals likely to attack at the slightest provocation.
They’re wearing pristine white polo shirts tucked into khaki shorts, and Gabriel has a pair of Ray-Bans perched on top of his head.
“Boys, this is Miss Charlotte and Bronnie,” Arden says.
“Henry McRae. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Charlotte.” Henry gives my hand a firm squeeze.
I blink at the adult words and actions coming from an eight-year-old boy, then squeeze his hand in return. “I’m very happy to meet you, Henry.”
Henry retreats and Gabriel steps forward, enthusiastically pumping my arm in his own handshake. “Gabriel McRae. We’re going to ride a pontoooooon boat.”
I return his enthusiastic shake and smile. “Sounds like a lot of fun. I’m glad to meet you, Gabriel.”
Henry stands with his hand extended to Bronnie. Bronnie twists her lips to the side and puts her hands behind her back. Crap. I didn ’ t practice handshakes with her.
I crouch beside her. “How about a fist bump?”
She sticks out her little fist.
Henry eyes Bronnie’s hand and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. Finally, he reaches out with his own and taps her knuckles. She fakes an explosion when their knuckles meet, sound effects included, and Henry flinches from the implied, but largely invisible, spray of spit. Straightening his spine, he takes a fortifying breath. “Dad, I’m going inside for some cooldown time.”
Arden nods. “Good job. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”
Henry bolts for the cabin like his pants are on fire.
Gabriel fist-bumps Bronnie, his explosion even louder and spittier than hers, then points toward the giant blocks on the porch. “Do you want to play?”
She takes off running for the porch, and Gabriel chases after, quickly overtaking her.
Arden reaches for my hand. “That went pretty well.”
“The day is young.”
His expression sobers. “It’s okay if we hit some bumps in the road. Aren’t you the one who told me it doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful?”
I run my thumb over the veins that map the back of his hand. “You’re absolutely right. So, what’s our itinerary look like? Do you have plans or are we winging it?”
He squints at me in mock reproof. “You know me better than to think I’m a man who ‘wings’ anything.”