“Stop staring,” I hiss at him.
“You mean the way Seth was staring at you?”
The fact that they noticed makes me happy.
“Doth my eyes deceive or did you just attempt to charm achild?”Alyssa asks.
“I think she was trying to charm his uncle,” Ryland says dryly.
I consider how to respond to this. Then I laugh. “Do you think it worked?”
CHAPTER 25Seth
“What a knockout,” my dad exclaims as soon as Molly walks away. “Is she single, Sethie?”
“You recall she broke his heart and sent him reeling into a yearslong depression, right Dad?” Dave asks.
“Yes, but is shesingle?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I haven’t seen her in years.”
This is, of course, a lie. But being harassed by my parents on potential romantic prospects is a pastime I try to avoid.
“Text Jonnie. See if Molly’s bringing a date to the wedding,” my mom says.
In fact, I would like to text Jon to ask why he didn’t tell me she was coming. If he had, I might be mentally prepared. Instead, I feel unsteady. (Emotionally, that is. I’m not weaving around on the street. Unlike many of the tourists currently stumbling out of the Daiquiri Deck.)
“Leave him alone, Ma,” Dave says.
“Can we go swimming when we get home?” Max asks.
“It’s late,” Clara says. “You can swim all day tomorrow.”
“With Uncle Seth?”
Clara gives me a wry smile. “You’ll have to ask Uncle Seth about that.”
“Please, Uncle Seth?” Max asks.
“Sure,” I say. It is, after all, too hot here to do anything except lounge in a pool. I love Florida weather, but even I have my limits when it comes to ninety degrees with 100 percent humidity. “We have to swim first thing though, guys, because the adults have a wedding to get to.”
“Early morning swim with these monsters?” Dave asks. “You know they wake up at six.”
“Duty calls,” I say.
“He said doody!” Jack screeches.
I don’t get much sleep.
The boys take “first thing in the morning” literally. They are in my room jumping all over me by six fifteen. It is only thanks to Clara’s maternal negotiation skills that I secure time to drink coffee and do a ten-minute meditation before putting on my trunks and cannonballing into a morning of mayhem.
The boys are a blast, if you don’t mind physical violence. All squirt guns and pool noodle fights and attempts at underwater “shark attacks” that result in surprise dunkings. I attempt to engage them in a wholesome game of Marco Polo, but they’re having none of it. They want me to throw them up into the air instead. I oblige, and it gives me a moment of nostalgia.
Molly, chasing me around Gloria and Emily’s pool almost two years ago. Molly, impulsively asking me to go to Joshua Tree.
Molly, showing me her most vulnerable self.
I wonder if she still thinks of me.
