I braced myself as I dove in, swimming past the breaker to join Trinsky. “It’s still cold, and your trunks are falling off me. There’s a good chance I’m going to lose them before I reach the sand.”
Trinsky grinned like a madman. “Again…all part of my devious plan. Hey, listen. Eddie’s a good swimmer, but he’s slow as fuck and yet, somehow he wins. You get the math, right?”
“I do.”
He held a hand up for a fist bump. “Cool. He’ll rely on us to find a wave for him. Try to time it so he doesn’t eat it in the wash.”
“No pressure, huh?”
“Life is full of pressure. But I trust you, and just know that I will fuck you up if my brother drowns on your watch.”
I splashed him. “Fuck you. I would never let him drown.”
Trinsky splashed me back and winked. “I know. C’mon, Milligan, see if you can beat me.”
“Easy.”
Actually, it wasn’t so easy at all. This was Trinsky’s home turf. He knew the ocean as well as he knew the ice, and yeah, that chafed. He won three races in a row, and Eddie deemed his brother the winner of two out of three body surfing contests. I was happy to get that one win ’cause as Trinsky warned, Eddie dominated.
No, he wasn’t the best swimmer, but he was by far the most energetic one.
Eddie traded his regular glasses for goggles, did a few squats, and swung his arms in preparation, then lunged on the wet sand and waited for the judge (Trinsky or me) to say go. He didn’t rely on muscle memory. He swam with purpose as if he were coaching himself through each stroke, remembering to breathe in, breathe out, kick one leg, kick the other.
It took Eddie much longer to get past the breakers, and though he had to work extra hard to tread water, he didn’t attempt to surf a wave without a signal from one of us. And each time he washed ashore, his smile widened with pride. I cheeredhim on as if there were a medal on the line, arms in the air, chanting wildly.
Trinsky was twice as vocal. No surprise there. I wasn’t surprised that he was a good coach, either. I’d seen him in action at Elmwood Juniors’ camp, egging teens on with over-the-top praise and encouragement. Sure, he bugged the hell out of me on the ice, but I’d never faulted his dedication to the program and his willingness to volunteer precious time off in the summer. He was fun and enthusiastic but also incredibly patient with kids. Something told me Eddie had a lot to do with that.
“Pretty good,” Eddie pronounced, trading his goggles for glasses, his towel slung around his shoulders. “I was the winner. We can agree on that, but you were both very good too.”
Trinsky ruffled his brother’s wet hair. “You rocked. Hey, I was better than Jake, wasn’t I?”
“Be nice.” Eddie scowled and turned to me. “D-don’t listen to Mr. Cool. He teases all the time.”
“Who me?”
Eddie nodded profusely. “Yes, you.”
Trinsky shrugged. “Guilty. Let’s go to the house and make sandwiches before Mom comes to pick you up. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.” Eddie signed something and seemed to get frustrated.
“Use your words, Ed. It’s okay.”
Eddie squinted and took an exaggerated deep breath. “I’ll make turkey and cheese. Do you like turkey and ch-cheese, Jake?”
“Love it.”
Eddie grinned. “Good. It’s my specialty. Right, Mr. Cool?”
“Oh, yeah. This guy is a super chef,” Trinsky agreed, slipping his sunglasses on.
Eddie tied the ends of the towel around his neck like a cape and pointed in the direction of the house. “Last one there is a rotten egg.”
I watched him weave through the beach chairs and umbrellas, securing my ball cap as I glanced at Trinsky. “He’s pretty great.”
Trinsky nodded. “Yeah. He wasn’t supposed to be here all day, but my mom had to go into the office this morning and asked if Ed could come over. He hates last-minute changes, but he minds it less if he can be with me. I miss spending time with him during the season, so I rarely say no. My house is his house.”
“That’s nice.”
