44. Ellie
Chapter forty-four
Ellie
I tug at the hem of my swim cover that keeps riding up over my ass while we carry our beach gear over the hot sand. I probably should have run to the store to grab a new one, since this is a pre-baby body purchase, but when you have short notice like I did for this weekend, you have to prioritize, and a new swim cover didn’t make the cut.
It’s a gorgeous day. Hot as fuck? Sure, I’m already sweating, but still, gorgeous.
“Holy shit, Dee. What did you pack in Johnny’s cooler?” Bec grunts, using both arms to hold the cooler at her side, heaving it along and letting it drop in the sand with an umph . “This feels like a good spot to set up, plus it’s as far as I can possibly carry this thing. If you all want to move closer to the water, I’m going to need a hand with this.”
“ Jonah’s cooler,” Dee corrects.
Bec rolls her eyes, squats, and opens the cooler. She freezes, then stares up at Dee in amused disbelief. “You brought an entire cooler of frozen margaritas to the beach? I assumed you’d throw in some seltzers, maybe a few wine coolers and beers, and call it a day .
“Hey, you put me in charge of the drinks. You didn’t specify how to do my job. Now you have to deal with the consequences of that decision.” She elbows Carissa and nods her head at her. “Only good consequences, I swear.”
“I thought I heard the blender this morning,” Evie says. “Are those limes? And salt? Nice touch.” She bumps Dee’s hip with her own and pulls the plastic cups out of the beach bag on her shoulder. “I’ll play bartender. Who wants one?”
We spend about twenty minutes perfecting our beach setup for the day. Towels, sunblock, Jonah’s cooler of frozen lemon-lime deliciousness, Abby’s mini Bluetooth speaker, and umbrellas and chairs set up in a U shape so we can all chat.
This might be my favorite part of the weekend yet.
There’s something magical that happens on the beach. The sound, the smell, the sunshine, and the breeze feel restorative. I lean back on my elbows, close my eyes, let my head drop back between my shoulders, and take it all in. The call of seagulls ringing out as the waves crash in the distance, the weight of humid air sticking to my skin, the smell of salt, sunblock, and now limes—thanks to Dee.
“Beach day was the perfect pick, Bec,” I say, turning to look at my best friend while the rest of the girls continue in a heated debate about the best music video ever made.
“I’m glad to hear it, Momma. I thought we’d want to take advantage at least once since we’re only here a few days.”
“Dom told me this was your idea,” I say. “This whole trip, I mean. Using your pieces to plan things here instead of your original ideas for back home.”
Her carefree look morphs into one of empathy with a hint of concern she can’t hide from me.
“He came by after you two argued. I know that day was really shitty, and while I know running away from problems is never the answer, I also never had a bad time on the beach with a margarita, either, so I figure the pros outweigh the cons.” We both laugh at that.
“Did he seem okay? After our fight?” I ask, guilt gnawing at my stomach. But I need to know .
“He was shaken up, mostly worried about you. He was also worried he might be making things worse by having you participate in his ‘shenanigans.’”
“His anxiety is worse than mine sometimes,” I say with a shake of my head. “But damn if I don’t love the guy more for his shenanigans.”
“I know you do. I told him we should keep going, and that’s when I called in the girls. You’re an incredible mom, Ellie. Everyone can see that. But we wanted you to let your hair down a little this weekend. Thank you for trusting us.”
“I never doubted any of you.”
“Except on day one, right? The fish murder was a bit much,” she jokes.
“Bec, you are going to need to debrief with a professional about this.”
“I think you’re right. Oh god, things are escalating,” Bec says, nodding over to the girls, where Dee has stripped down to her bikini and is acting out Britney Spears’s “Stronger” video on a beach chair.
“Oh shit,” I say, unable to take my eyes off her, and struggling to hold in my laughter. “She’s going to wipe out and eat shit—” but before I can finish the thought, Dee takes a bad step, her foot too close to the hinge of the reclining chair and the entire thing folds in on her as she drops on her ass, legs tangled between the teal blue fabric and metal bars.
She flops onto her belly, rotating the chair with her, and she kicks her legs dreamily behind her, not missing a beat and continuing her lip-syncing of the song until it finally wraps.
We clap and whistle as she untangles herself from the chair, brushes off the sand, and takes a dramatic bow like she’s a principal actor on Broadway.
“The performance of a lifetime, babe,” I say, tapping my cup against hers as she takes her seat on my other side. Evie starts setting up for her song.
“Spank you very much,” she sings in reply. “Hey, Evie. Don’t start without me. I need to take a quick dip to cool off, but I don’t want to miss a second of the show!” she calls out as she makes her way to the water.
“I could use a minute to cool off too,” Evie says. “You guys in?”
“Yes, please. I’m melting,” Carissa says. Bec joins them, too, as they head to the water .
Abby packs the speaker in her bag to avoid it getting damaged before she takes off after the girls. Her eyes catch on me as I take out my book under the umbrella.
“You’re not coming? Aren’t you hot?”
“Scorching, actually,” I say.
“Same. Come on then, we need this before Dee starts to recruit us to be her backup dancers.”
“God, no. You’d have to drag my ass home. My body would collapse from exhaustion if I tried to do that in the sand,” I joke.
“What is it?” Abby presses, adjusting the scarf she’s wearing as a headband, her braids wrapped in a bun on her head.
I tug nervously on my cover-up. The girls ditched theirs almost as soon as we sat down, if they even wore one to begin with.
“I haven’t exactly been eager to wear a swimsuit since I had Luca. I wasn’t expecting an impromptu beach trip with a few days’ notice or anything, so I’m not exactly beach-ready .” I wince, realizing how insecure I sound and hating it.
“My sister went through the same thing when she had my niece six months before our family vacation. Do you know what I told her?” Abby asks. “That her boobs would steal the show, and wouldn’t you know it, four guys asked for her number that day…in front of her husband…with a six-month-old on her hip.”
“Ah, but she had six-month postpartum boobs. Much different from year-and-half postpartum boobs. A lot less lift, unfortunately. The ladies have gotten the message that the party is over and they have retired to their new home…way closer to sea level.”
“Ellie,” Abby says with a laugh. “Okay, I’m not an expert in having a healthy relationship with my body, but I do think that this could be good for you. You don’t have to take the cover-up off if you don’t want to. Those things are made to get wet anyway. But…I don’t want you to wake up someday and feel like kicking your perfectly hot, younger self in the ass for not getting in the ocean with your friends, all because of one small voice convincing you you’re not worthy of having the experience. Your body doesn’t exist to stay this perfectly preserved th ing. We’re supposed to live in them. That means a little change, a little wear and tear, and a lot of love.”
She steps toward me and reaches her hand for mine. “Don’t punish yourself because of some lie your brain is trying to sell you. You in?”
I smile and grab her hand as she helps me stand. Before I can think too much about it, I take off my cover-up and replay Abby’s words in my mind, letting them bolster the little self-esteem I have left in this mom bod of mine.
Should I be proud of it for getting me and Luca here safely? I am.
Do I still struggle with the changes? Of course.
But Abby’s right. The thought of living with regret scares me more than what others might think or say about my stretch marks, extra rolls, and jiggles. I don’t want to be scared of living in this body. Someday, I’d like to feel proud of it.
“I’m in,” I say, and we link arms, eventually joining the girls in the waves, gratitude rolling in steady along with the tide.