Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 49189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
David and Lana look up from their sandcastle a few feet from me, laughing whenever their Mommy makes a face at Daddy.
They seem to always do everything together, even finishing each other’s words.
The way twins are, just like two of the same person.
Our linen deck chairs pinned to the white sand. The big beach umbrella looking like it’ll get blown away any second. There’s a chill in the air and some dark clouds on the horizon. Yet I know the kids love the beach more than anything.
And Michael always makes a strong day camp when we’re on the beach.
He puts his hand to his mouth, calling out to me, “You okay, babies?” And I wave back. Letting him know we’re just fine.
I just hope Holly lets whatever it is she’s caught go before it’s time to go home.
Her seaweed ‘experiment’ from the last time we were at the beach took weeks to get the smell out of her room.
Noticing the weather rolling, Michael’s quick to scoop up Holly, making her wriggle and whine with frustration.
She’d collect anything and everything if she could, and in any weather.
He brings his face close to her ear, and she’s okay with it within a moment.
His negotiation skills with her are always on point, and she always listens to her Dad.
He walks over, carrying her, and she grips her jar tight, informing me when she’s close enough that she’s brought something to show us but promises to let it go before we go home.
“Whatchya find, baby?” I ask her, grateful when Michael keeps her at arm’s length so she can show off her latest prize.
A little swimmer crab.
“And there are some eggs on her belly…she’s gonna have a million babies!” Holly exclaims.
The twins make a face at each other, chiming “ew” together before they get back to building.
The not-so-little sandcastle they’ve made is a scary good version of our house on the hill, and Michael nods with satisfaction as he surveys their work.
Holly’s annoyed that nobody shares her enthusiasm for wild things in jars, but Michael always has enough of his attention to give each of the kids in turn.
“If she has eggs, we definitely have to put her back, right where you found her,” he reminds Holly, a single look making her crease her mouth in silent reply before he sets her down and drops to his knees next to baby Samuel and me.
“No more experiments,” he assures me, giggling, and I cock a brow.
“At what price?” I ask, knowing that Holly also likes to make a deal as part of her compromises.
“Just ice cream and a half-hour off her bedtime,” he smiles, shrugging a little, but we both know that’s a pretty good deal considering.
“Samuel okay?” he asks, fussing over our youngest, and using any excuse to get close to me while I’m nursing him.
“He’s almost done,” I sigh, reminding Michael where my eyes are.
“Up here, buster,” I scold him. His eyes narrow on my chest as he growls low, promising me an extra half hour of what I know we both want after our own bedtime.
“Ice cream too?” I put in, making him chuckle.
“Oh, you can have whatever you want, Mrs. Hart. Anything at all,” he rumbles.
“Daddy. Tide’s coming in,” The twins announce, speedily scooping out sand, so a river of seawater fills the deep moat they’ve put around their creation.
“We should head back soon,” he agrees, and Holly opens her mouth, hugging her jar before she remembers the reward for doing the right thing by her crab, and pleads with us both to let her keep it right up until we go.
“Of course, honey,” I assure her. “Just be gentle with her.”
“I feel glued to this chair, Michael. My butt’s gone to sleep,” I let him know, feeling sleepy but content after lazing under the beach umbrella for a few hours.
“I can carry you up,” he says without hesitation. Michael is loading up our litter of gear into neat piles he can hook under one arm.
Same way, he brought it all down.
“You guys wanna help pack up?” he asks the twins, who give each other a look before they giggle at each other.
“Sure, Dad,” they chime, and Michael and I share a little look of our own.
Amazed every time they speak, like they can read our minds.
They finish their construction work, which sees Michael shake his head in amazement. So proud of his little builders, and they let him know that it should stay standing long enough to survive the incoming tide even.
“I think it will,” Michael says to himself before ruffling their heads with his hands.
“I know it will,” He tells them both, loading them up with as much gear as they feel like carrying.
Letting them go a little way ahead while he takes down the umbrella. He remarks how we always seem to take more away than what we started with.