Page 31 of Seven Summers Ago
She tilts her head, maybe out of shock. A sour taste forms in my mouth. It’s not like me to be purposely cruel. Especially not to her. If you’d ask me seven years ago, I would’ve never dreamed I’d talk to Rosie like this.
“Fine. I deserve that. But for this to work, you’re going to have to forgive me eventually.”
Instead of her words softening my heart, they only harden it further. “Yeah, eventually,” I growl. “It’s been less than forty-eight hours. Sorry, honey, I don’t downshift that fast.”
Her mouth pops open to speak and I find myself eager, awaiting what could possibly come out after that. But Charlie has already unbuckled from her booster and is poking her head between our seats. “C’mon, let’s go,” she whines.
As the three of us start walking, Charlie hurries to catch up to me. Even though Rosie shuffles behind us and she’s quiet, her presence is blaring. Part of me wishes she would’ve just stayed in my rig.
But then again, I don’t know Charlie all that well. Besides learning she doesn’t have any food allergies, I have no idea if she has any medical conditions. I don’t know her favorite things. Her pet peeves. Spending time with her is like being with a stranger who oddly resembles me. Just thinking about that last fact causes my skin to heat and reminds me, once again, why my daughter is like a stranger.
“What’s so special about this beach?” Charlie asks, interrupting my thoughts. Her little raspy voice calms me.
“You’ll see.” I grin at her.
We take our shoes off and walk in the sand. Charlie heads straight for the waves and a smile pulls on my lips. She slows and is cautious when she dips her toes in the water. When a wave rolls onto the shore, reaching further than anticipated, she squeals and spins around, running away while it chases her.
Charlie returns to us and gives Rosie her sandals to carry but I reach for them. “I got them.”
Rosie gives me a half smile.
Charlie skips up ahead, stopping to bend and pick up a seashell. I don’t initiate conversation with Rosie and thankfully, she doesn’t either. A memory comes to my mind of a time she and I were here together.
It was after senior prom. When the dance ended, a bunch of us came here. That was back when they used to allow bonfires on the beach. I carried Rosie’s high heels while she, Stella, and Daisy went wave jumping. Rosie looked beautiful that night. Her hair was shorter then. She had it half pulled up and in curls. The shiny dress she wore was strapless and made her tits look amazing.
But that’s not the memory that sticks out in my mind. It was the color of her dress. It was green and brought out the green in her eyes. Especially when the light from the fire reflected in them. She was stunning. Even as an eighteen-year-old boy, I knew I was a lucky bastard and didn’t deserve her.
“Look!” Charlie runs to us and holds up a large white spiraled shell with knobbed ridges.
“That’s so pretty,” Rosie says.
I bend and admire it. “You know what? It’s rare to find snail shells on this beach these days.”
“Can you keep it safe for me?” Charlie’s brows lift in question.
“Sure. I’ll put it in my pocket.”
She smiles big.
“Charlie, see that wood boardwalk?” I point up toward the grassy hill and she looks. “That’s where we’re heading.”
Without hesitation, she runs in that direction.
“Beck,” Rosie whispers. “I haven’t told her that we were married.”
Her use of past tense grates on me even though it shouldn’t. Because why do I care? “Are,” I correct her. “Aremarried.” I shoot her a hard glare before taking off in a jog after Charlie. If Rosie and I stay here any longer having this conversation, I’m positive it won’t go over well.
Charlie reaches the boardwalk before I do, her long braids whipping behind her. But when I take the steps, the memories of the night I proposed to Rosie rush at me unexpectedly. My heart races. I reach out and grip the weathered railing while it feels as if the ground quakes beneath my feet.
Charlie climbs onto the wood platform and peers over at the ocean. “You can see the whole beach from here,” she calls, her small voice echoing into the wind.
My breathing is ragged while I try to concentrate on each inhale and exhale of my lungs. “Yeah…be careful.” My words come out strangled.Did they even come out at all?
Rosie whooshes past me, and I take a second to let my heart slow once she reaches the top with Charlie and I know she’s safe. I take the steps slow, feeling winded despite being in shape. I lift weights three days a week at the small gym in town. I run five miles on my off days and go surfing at least once a week.
When my feet finally hit the platform, I slump against the railing in relief and pinch my eyes shut for a second.
“Hey, are you all right?” Rosie’s voice is soft, distant.
