For the Girls' Sake - By Janice Kay Johnson Page 0,23
tiny cove of gritty sand between arms of basalt worn by the pounding of the waves. Adam dropped to his knees and helped build a sand castle grander than anything the girls could have done alone.
He wondered wryly whether he was trying to make points with Lynn by showing what a great parent he was, or whether he was just avoiding having to talk to her.
She gave no sign she noticed either way. Instead, under her daughter’s orders Lynn willingly ferried water by the bright plastic bucketful from the foamy fingers of surf. At the sound of her laughter, Adam sank back on his heels and watched her squelch back toward the construction site, her sneakers and the hems of her jeans soaking wet.
Like Rose, she wasn’t a chatterbox, and her face didn’t have Jennifer’s animation, but it was bright and good-humored.
"The wave got me," she announced. "I think the tide is coming in."
Sure enough, each wave licked onto dry sand and inched toward the tide pools.
"Let’s dig a moat," Adam declared. "We can watch the water rush around the castle."
"Good idea." Lynn dropped to her knees and began hollowing out a trench with her hands, sand flying.
"What’s a moat?" Shelly asked.
Adam grinned at her. "It’s filled with water to keep the invaders away from the castle walls."
"Oh. What’s ’vaders?"
"Um." Almost unconsciously, he looked to Lynn for help.
"Invaders are the enemy," she said in mock growl. "Like Ian and Ron at your play group, when they want to grab the dolls and run over them with their trucks."
Shelly’s chocolate-brown eyes widened. "I don’t like them.” She began scooping sand. "Come on, Rose. We don’t want no ’vaders in our castle!"
They stayed long enough to see the water fill the moat but not long enough for the girls to watch their magnificent castle crumple. By that time, the girls were getting tired anyway. When Rose whimpered after her foot slipped in the loose pebbles, Adam swung her up onto his shoulders.
Her mood revived. "Giddap, Daddy!" Her heels drummed his chest. "You’re my horsie, Daddy."
Shelly stopped in her tracks. "I want you to be my horsie, Mama."
"Only if I can take you piggyback, punkin." For a fleeting second, Lynn’s eyes met Adam’s, revealing a complex of emotions he didn’t know how to read. "I’m not big enough to lift you onto my shoulders."
Had he somehow made her feel inadequate?
Shelly’s mouth trembled. "But I wanna ride like her.”
"Her daddy’s bigger than I am."
Shelly’s expression became calculating. "Maybe he could give me a ride."
"But he’s already carrying Rose—"
"Tell you what," Adam interjected. "We’ll switch back and forth. Okay, Daisy?"
"’Kay, Daddy," Rose agreed. "But I’m not Daisy."
He bounced her a couple of times. "Nope. Guess not. You have too many petals."
She giggled.
Shelly climbed onto her mother’s back. "Why’d he call her Daisy? That’s not her name. Her name is Rose."
"Her daddy is just teasing," Lynn explained. "It’s like me calling you Belly when I tickle you."
"Oh." She booted her heels into her mom’s hips. "Giddap, horsie!"
Halfway up the beach, Adam stopped. "Okay, Shelly Belly, your turn."
"Daddy!" Rose whined.
"Nope. Fair’s fair. Besides, you want to try out the other horse, don’t you?"
Rose being Rose, she didn’t say any more when he lowered her to the sand, but she clutched his leg, the afternoon’s acquaintance not enough to let her go to this lady. Shelly, on the other hand, had already taken a handful of his shirt and was demanding, "Up! You’re my horsie, now."
Lynn’s smile never wavered as she said, "Do you think we can beat them to the stairs, Rose?"
But she had to hurt, looking at her own daughter none too eager to trust her. Never mind that Rose had no idea. He knew how Lynn must feel, because something in him had soared at Shelly’s eagerness to climb onto his shoulders.
"I’ll tell you what," he said. "Let me lift you up, Rosebud."
He set her on Lynn’s back, where she had no choice but to wrap her arms around Lynn’s neck. In the breeze both had lost tendrils of hair from their ponytails, and the two auburn heads looked so much alike, his heart squeezed. They looked up, reminding him of an advertisement for a skin-care product, maybe, their complexions both creamy with the delicate scattering of freckles, the shape of their mouths so much alike, even their eyes, although Lynn’s were green and Rose’s blue. Mother and daughter.