And there, sitting in the middle of a huge sandbox, is Brooklyn, building sand castles with the girls.
“B is here? I just talked to him yesterday and he didn’t tell me he was coming.” My eyes fill up with tears again as my heart feels warm and full.
I grab my mom’s hand. “When did he get here?”
“Late last night. He had a sandbox and a truckload of sand delivered this morning.”
“I told him she wanted to build sandy castles with him.” I yell out, “Gracie!”
Gracie turns toward the sound of her name, sees me, jumps up, does something similar to the Snoopy happy dance, and then runs straight to me. I bend down as she catapults herself into my arms.
“Happy birthday, Gracie!”
“Happy birthday to Kiki,” she says back.
Then all the girls come running over and gang tackle me into the grass. Covering me with hugs and kisses.
Gracie screams, “No! My Kiki!”
The other girls back off as a hand reaches out to help me up.
A deeply tanned hand attached to a thicker than usual arm.
I grasp his hand as he pulls me to my feet and into a hug.
“I can't believe you're here.”
He gives me a lopsided grin. “I brought sand.”
I look into his warm blue eyes. Eyes that engulf me with more emotions than the ocean could hold. Eyes that make me feel like I’m riding a wave.
The eyes of home.
Gracie tugs on my hand causing me to break eye contact with him.
“Kiki! Come make sandy castles!” she screams.
I follow her to the sand box, sit in the sand, and start building a castle.
Gracie plops down in B's lap and stares at me.
“Gracie blow out candles,” she tells me.
“You already had cake?”
“No,” Avery says. “We had waffles for breakfast and she got candles in hers.”
Ivery says, “I didn't have waffles. I don't like waffles. Icky.”
Emery shakes her head. “I love waffles. They are my very favorite!” Then she lowers her voice. “Sometimes, Nanny lets us have waffles for dinner.”
“Waffles for dinner!” they all scream.
“Shhh,” Avery says. “It's a secret.”
“Why is it a secret?” B asks.
“Cuz Mommy and Daddy don't know that Nanny lets us have breakfast for dinner.” The girls all giggle quietly, like it’s the best secret in the world.
The girls chatter away, talking about all sorts of random facts.
I look up to find B staring at me.
He reaches out and places his hand on my cheek. I lean into it and close my eyes. Feeling the warmth. Soaking in his familiar touch. Causing a flurry of memories.
Sunrises on the beach. Floating on our boards. Waiting for the perfect wave. Kissing in the moonlight. Afternoons filled with nothing but his naked body, cool white sheets, and ocean breezes. The thrill of catching a big wave and the proud look on his face when I did.
I turn my face into his hand, put my lips on the spot I know so well, and kiss his tattoo.
Gracie jumps off his lap, knocking his hand off my face.
“Gracie wanna open presents!”
“Where's the dog?” I ask. “Do I get to meet Kiki?”
“I’ll get Kiki out of her kennel,” Emery says.
“No, it’s my turn!” Ivery argues.
They both rush off into the house.
A few minutes later, a yellow blur barrels out of the house with the girls chasing after it.
The dog rushes toward us, bounds into the sand, knocks down the castles, gives Avery a slobbery wet kiss, jumps on Gracie's lap, and then licks her entire nose.
“Bad Kiki!” Gracie yells, but then she wraps her arms around the puppy's neck and practically strangles it.
The dog deftly ducks out of her hold.
“I wuv my bad Kiki,” she says as the dog bounds onto my lap.
She sniffs me first and then licks my hands.
“Come inside for lunch, girls,” Mom yells.
I get up and try to brush some of the sand off my skirt. B wraps his arm around my waist and walks with me to the door.
His gesture reminds me of a song. The kind of song that you know you’ll never forget the lyrics to.
This will always feel familiar.
He stops me, turning me to face him.
“I can't believe you're here,” he says.
“I can't believe you're here. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
He pulls me into a tight hug and I grasp him as tightly as I wish I could grasp my old life.
He looks into my eyes. I noticed there was something different about him in the sandbox but I couldn’t figure it out. Now I know it’s his eyes. They aren't bloodshot. They aren't dazed. They are clear and vibrant and beautiful.
“I’m sorry, for everything, Keats.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“Kiki, come now!” Gracie yells.
We go inside and have Gracie's favorite foods for lunch. After singing “Happy Birthday,” Gracie blows out the candles four different times only to make Tommy light them again.
By the time the candle blowing out is done, I’m sure the cake is covered with spit and germs. But I don't care. It may be the best cake I've ever had in my life.
My mind flicks to Aiden bringing me cake. One single amazing kiss.
I look at B and feel guilty.
While we’re cleaning up, I confess my guilt to Mom.
“My guilt tops your guilt,” she says seriously.
“How?”
“If I weren't an actress—if I were just a normal mom—none of this would be happening. It's my fault. All of it.”
Just as she starts to cry, the puppy jumps up on the kitchen bench, leaps onto the table, and dives headfirst into the cake.
Tommy is quickest to respond. He grabs the dog, hoisting her off the table and shooing her outside.
The girls tear back into the room with Gracie in the lead, all chanting, “Presents! Presents!”
Tommy leans back in his chair, grins, and pulls Gracie onto his lap.
“Did you know that when it’s your birthday you're supposed to get spanked once for every year?”
Brooklyn whispers in my ear. “I’ll be twenty soon. Wanna spank me now?”
The triplets all screech, “No, Daddy. No spankings!”
“Alright. Maybe we'll change that. Let’s go with kisses!” He gives Gracie three purposefully sloppy kisses on the check.
“My turn! My turn!” the triplets say. They stand in line and each kiss Gracie.
Mom follows suit. Then I pull her up on my lap and tickle her sides while I kiss her, causing her to shrill with laughter.
“Guess it’s my turn,” B says. He gives her three sweet kisses on the cheek, and I swear she swoons. She puts her hand on her cheek and holds it there like she's trying to save the kisses.
We go into the family room where there is a stack of presents on the floor. Gracie jumps up and down with excitement.
I sit on the floor. Brooklyn sits directly behind me, putting his knees on each side of me and wrapping his arms around me. He presses his lips into the side of my face.
I lean back into his chest and close my eyes.
“How many times have we sat this way on the beach? Can't you almost feel the ocean breeze on your face?”
“Yes.”
He continues to whisper in my ear as we watch Gracie rip open her presents. “Keats, I'm sorry for any hurt I caused you. I was an idiot. And high. After the cabana girl, I quit smoking and now there's a clarity to my life that I never had before. I'm eating healthier. Working out. And it's all for you.”
I open my eyes.
“You should be doing it for you, B. My mom says you have to love yourself before you can love someone else.”
“That's pretty deep.”
“I've changed too.”
“I can see that. You look so soft and even prettier than I remember.” He slides his hand down my hip, his fingers stopping at the exact spot of my tattoo.
“I know exactly where it is. I know every,” he taps my skin, “teeny, tiny place on you. And when you're ready, I can't wait to feel every single inch of it again.”
I feel high. My brain is fried. I don't even bother thinking at this point. I don't know when I'll see him again and I want to cherish it. Revel in it.