“How long have you lived here?” Sarah asked, doing her best to mask her amazement.

“Two years. The house was built in eighty-three, and when I bought it I decided to upgrade a few things.”

“It’s beautiful. This view alone is…wow.”

“Thanks, I like it too. I just wish I got to enjoy it a little more. It’s nice having company though.” Emory must have picked up on Grace’s puppy dog eyes as she sat patiently through their conversation. “I have a feeling that the miniature person is ready to get in the pool. Tell you what, Grace, why don’t you go get your suit on right through there and I’ll open this place up a little bit.”

Grace eagerly snatched the backpack from Emory’s hands and hurried into the bathroom pointed out to her. Emory moved to a small console in the kitchen and pushed a code into the keypad. The glass wall that separated the kitchen from the outdoors rose upward, completely opening up the room to the refreshing breeze moving in from the beach.

Sarah gaped. “Okay, you just made a wall disappear. What else can you do?”

“Be patient. You never know.”

“Will there be a fireworks display later?”

Emory smiled wisely. “Fireworks are strictly for Tuesdays.”

“Got it. Presumptuous of me. May I ask if you plan to swim with us?”

“Mhmm. Already set. See?” Emory tugged a red bathing suit strap from underneath her T-shirt. “What about you? Do you need to change?”

“I do.” Sarah placed a hand on her bag. “Is there somewhere I can…”

“You can change in my room,” Emory offered. “It’s the first door on the left, at the top of the stairs.”

Sarah followed the lazy spiral staircase that snaked its way to the second story and easily located Emory’s bedroom, which seemed to be one of three in the house. The room itself wasn’t overly large, but the two glass walls looking over the expanse of the ocean made it feel so much bigger. The elevated second story offered a more expansive view of the Pacific, and she took a moment to watch the waves roll in from as far as the eye could see. A soft beige love seat faced out, overlooking the ocean. Something about this room seemed a little bit more personable, warm. Sarah imagined Emory cuddled up on the small sofa, reading a book, and watching the surf.

Shaking herself from the coziness of her daydream, she undressed and put on her sky blue one piece and surveyed herself in the mirror of the master bathroom. Somehow in these new surroundings, her bathing suit seemed to pale in comparison. So plain. And there it was again. That sinking feeling of doubt. She decided to shake it off. Because, you know what? She wasn’t in the fourth grade anymore, struggling to measure up. She was an accomplished single mother who had every reason to hold her head high. At least, that’s what she would keep telling herself.

The living room was seemingly empty when she returned so Sarah drifted into the kitchen, pulled along by the wafting aroma of something surely sent from baby Jesus. She peeked in the small oven window and her mouth watered at the sight of bubbling lasagna. Unable to stop herself, she opened the heavy oven door so she could fully appreciate the amazingness of what was before her.

“Freeze, grifter. Back away from the lasagna.”

Sarah smiled, stood upright at the sound of Emory’s voice, and turned around innocently to plead her case. However, what she found herself faced with was enough to make her mouth water a second time. Emory was standing just beyond the interior of the house clad in a red bikini that complimented her toned physique and, well, curves to complete perfection. She’d taken her blond hair out of the ponytail she’d been wearing earlier and it fell haphazardly around her shoulders. Her very tan shoulders. Sarah tried to swallow and recapture the witty comeback that had been on the tip of her tongue just a moment before, but her brain wasn’t exactly cooperating at the moment.

“What is it?” Emory looked at her with concern. When Sarah’s only answer was a guilty smile and a sheepish shrug, Emory’s expression took on understanding. There was a liquid heat to the gaze they now exchanged, and even though Emory was fifteen feet away, she affected her all over. Immediate warmth started in her stomach and moved rapidly downward. Intensely, achingly so.

“For another time,” Sarah offered quietly and inclined her head in Grace’s direction.

Emory took a deep breath, blinked several times, and nodded finally as if coming to. “Follow me. Grace is waiting for us.”

The pool was grotto style and formed a languid, wandering shape capped off with a small waterfall, originating from a grouping of large boulder styled rocks. Just beyond the pool was a half wall that separated the deck from the beach itself. Grace sat at the edge of the pool, allowing her feet to dangle. Though she’d taken swimming lessons, she’d been taught at an early age to never enter the water unless an adult was present, and Sarah was grateful that she’d always been one to listen. There were two rafts already floating in the pool and a pitcher of lemonade sat enticingly on a small table on the deck.

“Can you believe she lives right next to the beach, Mom? I mean you just step over this little brick wall and you’re there, like shazam.”

Emory laughed at the description. “That’s what I say when I climb over too. Shazam.”

“She’s pretty lucky, huh?” Sarah said. “It was nice of Emory to invite us over. Did you happen to remember to say thank you?”

“Not yet. Thank you, Emory. I like your house a lot. It’s pretty cool.”

“You’re welcome and that’s nice of you to say. Cool is absolutely what I was going for. Ready to get in?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, it may be a little cold at first, but I turned the heater on a tad so it should get more comfortable in about ten minutes.”

Grace eagerly made her way down the stairs into the four feet of water and Emory slipped in after her, showing her how the raft worked and all the little features it had attached to it, like a built-in radio. Sarah could tell that Emory was a tad nervous around Grace, but she hid it well. She appreciated the effort Emory was making and enjoyed watching them interact.

Once they settled on a station, Emory took it upon herself to move Grace and the raft around the pool, chatting with her the whole time about the fun she’d had at camp, the start of school in just two weeks, and of course how she’d put Emory’s art tips to use as of late. With Grace taking the reins and dominating most of the conversation, Emory seemed to relax.

Throughout her playful conversation with Grace, Emory kept one eye on Sarah. She couldn’t help it. Never in her life could she imagine a one-piece bathing suit could be so alluring. Perhaps it was the fact that the suit only offered a glimpse of the body underneath that teased her so mercilessly, but the visual was quite simply doing her in.

She and Grace chatted for a good part of a half hour, while Sarah listened from the far end of the pool, chiming in occasionally. When she did, this generally prompted an embarrassed glance from Grace, which amused Emory. The dynamic between Sarah and Grace was so informal, so everyday, it was intriguing. So different from what she was used to.

But in a surprise turn of events, Emory was having fun, more fun than she thought possible with an eight-year-old. Who knew they could be this smart or this funny? Maybe kids didn’t deserve the hard rap she’d given them all these years, or then again, maybe it was just Grace. “So what should we do now, kiddo?”

“Ever played twenty questions?”

“Are you kidding? I’m like the Jedi of twenty questions. Am I guessing or are you?”

Grace thought for a minute. “You.”

Seventeen questions later, and Emory was finding her stride. “So the individual in question is a living female government official over the age of fifty. Hmmm. Is she a congresswoman?”