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It isn’t easy managing a bed and breakfast and also three girls and the occasional academic research when I can make the time. The one thing I did give up and don’t miss at all: social media.
“You gotBenedictto change a diaper?” Jake asks. “Seriously? I’m impressed.”
Sadie’s smirk turns into a full-on grin. “He lost a bet. I won’t say what about.”
The look on her face tells me I definitely do NOT want to know what it was about. Despite Sadie complaining about PDA, she and Ben are hands-down, by far the absolute worst out of all of us in terms of being over-the-top with physical affectionand talk that most of us do not find appropriate for public consumption. And they’re proud of it.
“When I left, Ben was getting out the garden hose.”
Jake grins at this. He looks really cute when he grins. Even—no,especially—with the laugh lines around his eyes. “That’s a pretty ingenious solution, actually.”
“Too bad you never thought of it,” I tease, but I cannot picture my husband using a garden hose to clean off a baby.
Jake handled—andstillhandles—parenting like a task needing to be done totally by-the-book. Garden hoses as washing apparatus are decidedlynotin the parenting books.
Though at times I tease him about his rule-following nature, more and more as we’ve gotten older, I appreciate his steadiness. Especially when it comes to balancing out my tendency to land in chaos despite my best efforts to avoid it.
I decide I need my baby fix, so without even asking, I steal Daniel away from Sadie, who stretches her empty arms overhead and cracks her neck.
“Thanks,” she says. “I swear, I’m going to throw my back out one of these days with these two.”
The twins might have been born a little small, coming early as many twins do, but they made up for lost time and are now almost the same weight as Leelee, wearing 2T clothing at six months old.
“You’re just a little chunker,” I tell him, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling that baby smell. “An adorable little chunky monkey.”
“Where’s Mer?” Sadie asks.
“Late again,” I say, glancing out over the beach just in case she and Hunter arrived with their kids and dogs and bypassed the main house. Nope. Other than a few locals enjoying the unseasonably warm November day, Merritt’s crew is not here.
“It feels weirdly gratifying to see her running late for everything after bugging us about it for years,” Sadie says. “I love the way having a little one has ruined her sense of timeliness and perfectionism.”
I agree. Mostly.
But not fully. Because I also know that since she and Hunter started fostering Charlie, an eight-month-old pulled out of a truly abysmal home situation, Merritt has been struggling with legitimate anxiety. Something she might not have told Sadie yet. I’m shocked Mer told me, but she had something of a breakdown a few weeks ago, and I think she took me seriously when I suggested she see a professional and consider some anti-anxiety meds. If not holistic things. Or both.Allthe things.
Whatever she wants to do—I want her to dosomething. Mental health is hugely important. And I know, to someone like Mer who likes to control all the things, it can be hard to ask for help. To admit that she needs it in the first place is huge.
I make a mental note to ask her how she’s doing today, if we manage a minute of privacy. Maybe I’ll swing by this week, even if not.
Ben catches up to Sadie before we reach the sand, handing David to her before he and Jake move ahead, probably to set up the tent that will shade us from the sun. Even though it’s November, sun is sun. Between the babies in the group, and Merritt’s efforts to keep her skin wrinkle free until she’s seventy-five, shade is non-negotiable. Also, it’s hot.
I toss another look over my shoulder, hoping Merritt gets here soon if only so I can put eyes on her and make sure she’s okay. I don’t see her, but I do spot a mop of curly brown hair zooming down the path like a rocket.
“Coming through!” Ezra, Naomi’s youngest son, flies past, sand kicking up behind him as he runs toward the water.
“Ezra, wait up!”
Liam moves up beside us, his arms laden with bags and beach chairs. He’s even got one of those fancy Yeti coolers strapped to his back. Naomi’s oldest son is only a few semesters away from graduating from college, and his shoulders are broad enough to handle the load, but seeing him haul so much so easily suddenly makes me feelancient.
“Sorry about Ez,” he says as he hurries past. “You know how he gets.”
“It’s good to see you, Liam!” I call, and he spins around, taking a few backward steps as he offers me a charming grin. “You too, Aunt Lo.”
“That boy has always had a soft spot for you,” Sadie says when he’s out of earshot.
“As he should.” We slow and wait for Naomi and Camden, who are coming up behind us. Their two-year-old daughter, Mandy, is sitting on Camden’s shoulders. “Liam looks like a full-grown man, Naomi. What happened to him?”
“Tell me about it,” she says as she leans in for a hug. “I can hardly stand it.” When Naomi pulls away, she takes Daniel with her. It’s always like this when we’re all together. Kids are passed around and loved on, as comfortable with one aunt as they are with another. I love it so much it should be illegal.
