I didn’t want Marco to miss out on anything, and Ches’s parents, Shirley and Mitch, treated him as part of their family, and Sebastian had always been a second son to them. I wanted to make sure we kept as much connection as was possible even though we lived 3,000 miles apart.
I loved living in Long Beach. It was near enough to urban life, but also had a real small town community vibe about it. And very importantly as far as Sebastian was concerned, it had a good-size surf, with waves coming off the Atlantic that provided long, workable rides.
While Marco and I were strolling toward the beach, I texted my girlfriends to see if they wanted to come and join us. They enjoyed driving out from the city, leaving behind the frantic bustle to have some quality beach time. They also enjoyed ogling the local surfers as they dove through the blue-gray waves, their perfectly toned bodies rippling in the summer sun. Let’s just say they enjoyed the window-dressing.
Things were changing in my group of friends. Nicole had started dating some high-powered Swiss banker, so they only saw each other every couple of weeks. It wouldn’t have suited everyone, but it seemed to work for them. Jenna was still happily single, but Alice had recently become engaged to a fellow professor at NYU, an archeologist who was currently away on a fieldtrip in Peru.
It was rare that the four of us got together these days, so it was almost like old times, except for the fact that Marco was making sandcastles next to us.
Sebastian joined us an hour later, thankful to be back from the madness that was NYC. He scooped up Marco to go for a swim, which meant having Marco’s chubby arms fastened around Sebastian’s neck as he swam up and down.
“It’s almost indecent how hot your husband is,” sighed Nicole. “And seeing him with Marco, I swear my ovaries start doing salsa moves.”
I laughed. “Thinking of joining the club, Nic?”
“God, no! I’ll leave motherhood to you, Lee. You’re a natural—you make everyone else look bad.”
I snorted. “Hardly. It’s an uphill struggle sometimes, and I’m not getting any younger.”
Alice looked at me sympathetically. “Still feeling broody?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. Yes, no, maybe. Sometimes I think … well, if it’s meant to be, it will.”
Jenna patted my arm. “Whatever happens, Lee, you’ve got Sebastian behind you. That man completely adores you.”
“Yes,” agreed Nicole. “Actually, it’s rather nauseating.”
We all laughed, and the subject was dropped.
The following Monday, Sebastian texted me to say he’d be late home. His Afghan friend, Atash, had asked him to drop in after work.
Atash was a near neighbor. He and his family were refugees from Lashkar Gah in the south of Afghanistan, one of the few Shi’a Muslims in Helmand Province, a largely Sunni area.
Some people thought it strange that Sebastian was friends with Afghans, when it was people from that nation who’d caused his life-changing injury and killed two of his colleagues in front of him. But Sebastian never blamed individuals; his hatred was saved for the politicians who’d let it happen.
But I’d been waiting for hours, watching the lasagna I made slowly desiccating in the oven, and Marco had to go to bed without Daddy’s goodnight kiss. He was very grumpy about that, and I thought it might be tantrum time. I had to promise that Daddy would sneak in and kiss him when he got home. Marco was satisfied with that. Just about.
When I finally heard the front door open and close again quietly, it was nearly 11PM.
“Hey, baby,” Sebastian said, tiredly.
He slumped down next to me on the couch, his limp more pronounced than usual, and I curled up into his side.
“Is everything okay?”
He sighed heavily.
“Yeah, I guess. I’ve been with Atash and his family for the last four, God, five hours.”
He rubbed his forehead, and I started to pull away, meaning to go to the kitchen and get him something to eat.
“Later,” he said, tightening his arms around me. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Okay,” I said, cautiously.
His serious tone was making nervous, but then Sebastian’s smile quirked up one side of his beautiful lips.
“It’s nothing bad,” he said. “Not really.”
“So what’s up?”
He leaned back and closed his eyes, settling me onto his chest. As I felt the steady rise and fall of his warm body, I began to relax again.
“Atash has a cousin—some sort of second cousin 37 times removed,” he began.
I had to smile. Working out Atash’s family relations was an impossible task.