15. Cameron
Watching Lizzy with her sisters makes me wish I had a bigger family of my own.
Sure, I have a sister who’s six years older than me, but Megan and I aren’t as close as the Lancasters.
My dad was never around, and Mom’s finally enjoying her retirement.
Megan’s due for another visit soon, but with her busy schedule as an airline pilot, we only meet up when she has a long layover in the area where I’m staying.
Now that we live in Seaside for the summer, it’s next to impossible for her to get out here unless she schedules a vacation.
“Anyone want a s’more?” Ryker asks, breaking into the bag of marshmallows.
“What’s a s’more?” Milli asks as she pops up from playing in the sand beside me.
“Cameron,” Lanie gasps. “You’ve never given this sweet child a s’more?”
“I… Uh… Don’t think I have. I tend to keep her away from roaring flames,” I tease.
As everyone busts my balls for holding out on Milli, Lizzy reaches for her hand and says, “A s’more is a roasted marshmallow, placed between two graham crackers with a piece of melted chocolate inside.”
Milli licks her lips and smiles. “Yum.”
“It sure is.” Ryker laughs. “Want me to make you one?”
Milli darts her eyes to mine for approval, and she beams. “Yes, please!”
“Why don’t you sit on my lap, and we’ll watch Ryker roast it for you,” Lizzy offers. “The fire is hot, and I’d hate to see you get burned.”
And just like that, she’s once again proactively putting my daughter’s needs first and effortlessly keeping her out of harm’s way. My chest squeezes at her natural instincts when it comes to Milli.
Milli climbs into her lap faster than he can get the white glob onto his roasting stick. Ryker quickly puts two marshmallows onto the metal prongs and places the rod closer to the fire.
“Anyone else want one?” Finn asks, roasting two at a time over the red-hot coals.
“See, Milli,” Lizzy points out, “look how it’s turning golden-brown. Once the whole thing turns that color, it’ll be done.”
“Ooooh. It’s workin’.” Milli points excitedly.
“Marshmallows are a fine art,” Finn explains. “If we’re not careful and put them too close to the flame, they’ll catch on fire.”
Mills gasps, and Finn continues, “If this ever happens to you, don’t panic or shake your stick. It could fly off and burn you.”
As if on cue, one of Ryker’s catch on fire, and Milli’s eyes turn round as saucers.
“Just pull it up slowly and blow on it like this,” Ryker demonstrates, and the flames disappear, leaving one blackened marshmallow behind.
Milli’s mouth drops into a pout thinking her snack has been ruined, but I quickly point out. “Don’t worry, Mills. Burnt marshmallows taste just as good sometimes.”
“That’s where we’ll have to agree to disagree,” Lizzy counters. “ Some people like them that way, but I much prefer the golden-brown ones roasted to perfection.”
“Here, here!” Sloane chants, and we all burst into laughter.
“So… What’s this I hear about you having a birthday next week?” Ryker asks Lizzy after handing my daughter an assembled s’more with the less burnt mallow inside.
“It’s your birthday?” Milli asks in excitement.
“Yep, the baby of our family is finally turning twenty-one next Saturday. We’re all gonna be there to help her celebrate!”
“Well, count me in!” Ryker exclaims. “I’ll never miss a twenty-one run!” He’s quiet for a moment, then he says, “Hey, with you being the only single one in this bunch of love birds, you can count on me as your wingman for the night.”
Instantly, I see red.
The thought of him “helping” her while she’s drunk is unacceptable.
Lizzy chuckles. “Oh, Ryker. I’m happy to have you join us, but...” Glancing to me, she says, “I do just fine on my own, thanks.”
“I go, too?” Milli pipes in, and my scorching-hot rage simmers to a slow burn.
I’m being a jealous asshole, and there’s no way I’d ever let my daughter see this side of me in action.
Taking in a deep breath to calm myself, I point out, “Sorry, Kiddo. Twenty-first birthdays happen in places where only grown-ups can go. Maybe we can celebrate Lizzy’s birthday on another day instead? ”
Milli’s face drops into a pout, then she gasps and points a finger in the air. “Can I make a cake?”
Lizzy’s light laughter is a direct shot to my heart. “Of course you can, sweet girl.”
As the conversation around us flows into their father coming for a visit soon, I’m sure details are mentioned, but my focus remains on Lizzy holding my beautiful daughter. Now that the excitement of cake has worn off, I notice Milli’s eyes drooping, and she pulls one of Lizzy’s arms around her.
When the breeze kicks up, Lizzy effortlessly leans forward and pulls the blanket she had draped over her shoulders around the front of them. Before I can even offer to help, she has them covered and snuggles Milli closer.
Milli visibly relaxes and surprisingly, so do I.
With one hand, she fists the blanket and leans further into Lizzy’s chest. The moment Lizzy starts patting Milli’s back, I know she’s a goner.
It’s a trick I’ve learned long ago that makes my daughter fall asleep faster than the speed of light once she’s relaxed.
I’m not sure how long I get lost in watching the two of them, but one thing is certain—Elizabeth Lancaster is not only the G.O.A.T when it comes to caring for Emilia, she’s quickly becoming someone I’m not certain I can live without either.