On the shore, Nash set up camp, stabbing the umbrella’s pole deep into the sand, spreading his towel next to hers, setting their coolers on the corners of the towels in case a breeze kicked up.
She lay on her back and floated, kicking idly, eyes closed, hoping the sunblock she’d applied would keep her nose from burning. The ocean was rocking her so gently, it was like a cradle. Flipping over, she swam farther out. She floated again. Random thoughts drifted through her mind…that memorable evening with Mimi, Willow, and Susan, laughter and wisdom, too…the volunteer at the children’s library who acted like a psychotic personal shopper for children, following them around, pulling books off the shelf and shoving them into the child’s hand, saying, “Try this one! This one is crazy good!” She meant well, but several parents had complained. But she was a generous donor to the library…it wasn’t Darcy’s problem to solve. It belonged to the head of the children’s library, Beverly Maison. Was she feeding Muffler too much? He was looking fat these days. Maybe—
“Hey.” Nash’s head emerged from the water. His hair was slicked against his head.
“Hey, yourself.” Darcy let her legs fall as she faced Nash.
“Do you have any idea how far out you are?” Nash asked. He seemed angry.
“Actually, lifeguard guy, I don’t,” Darcy answered facetiously, trying to twine her legs with his.
“Stop.” Nash wasn’t smiling. “Come closer to shore.”
Dread flashed through Darcy.
He read her mind. “No, no shark fins in sight, but you’re still too far out.”
She smiled as she swam back to shore, pleased that Nash cared enough to worry about her, to swim out to her, to frown like that.
“Gosh, my legs are wobbly,” she told Nash. “You’re right, I was too far out.”
She staggered to her blanket and collapsed facedown, grateful for the umbrella’s shade. Sounds drifted toward her—laughter, a baby crying, a seagull squawking as he scanned their group for food to swoop down and steal.
“It’s too hot,” a woman complained. Darcy thought it was pregnant Dee-Dee Folger.
“I agree,” Angelica said. “Packer’s getting cranky, and so am I.”
Darcy opened one eye and looked. Packer, a toddler, was stuffing sand into his mouth with both hands. Angelica tried to distract him with sand toys, the sifter, the molds, the shovel and bucket, but he threw himself backward, wailing, when she took his hands away from his face.
“Come to our house,” Jordan offered. “It’s air-conditioned.”
Someone said, “The three most beautiful words in the English language.” It was a man’s voice, of course it was. A woman would think the three most beautiful words were I love you.
By the time the group had lugged all their stuff back to their vehicles, everyone was grumpy. Nash set the truck’s air-conditioning to high. Darcy leaned her head back against the seat.
“I think I’m going to have a red nose,” she said.
“Probably.”
“I’m glad we’re not staying there all day,” Darcy continued. “It’s muggy today as well as hot. It was like a sauna.”
“Yup.”
Darcy gave Nash a questioning look. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Nash told her. “I’m just hot and tired.”
They parked in front of the Morrises’ house and carried their coolers around to the back door where they rinsed their feet in the outdoor shower before going into the kitchen. Jordan was there, holding Kiks’s feet under the running water in the sink.
“One grain of sand,” Jordan said. “Kiks can spot one grain of sand on a clean field of tile and put it in her mouth. Or her ear.”
Laughing, Darcy helped the others set out the food, utensils, paper napkins. The gang wasted no time loading their paper plates with food and snagging beers. They all went into the den to watch the Red Sox game on TV. After a while, Jordan put Kiks down for a nap and Packer fell asleep on the carpet.
The women sat in the living room, looking at sleeping Packer.
“He looks like an angel,” Missy said wistfully.
“Babies do that, when they’re asleep,” Jordan replied. “It’s a trick to keep you adoring them even after they’ve been acting like little devils.”
“Want to know something?” Dee-Dee asked. “I am having a seriously difficult time. There has been no decent celebrity gossip for weeks!”
Darcy laughed. “Right. Kate Middleton hasn’t fought with the queen and Jennifer Aniston isn’t pregnant with twins.”