Invincible Summer(36)

“Backatcha.” I haven’t seen him in months, and even though I talk to him every day on the phone, it’s not the same. We’ve shared so many details of our day-to-day lives that finding something new to talk about feels almost impossible. We should say something important, but there are too many excuses not to have to speak—Claudia, the sand, the sun. I’m not sure quite how to start. “How was the drive up?”

He waves his hand. “Just fine. Mom did most of it. Hey, Claudia!” He picks her up and twirls her around, and she laughs but clings on to me as soon as he puts her down. Noah makes this big show out of not noticing.

“Are the kids inside?” I say. I realize I expect Gideon and Lucy to be together, despite the age difference, the same way I always expected Claudia to be with Gideon.

Noah rubs his hair. “Nah, they split when Mom started

unloading and tried to commandeer us into helping.” He points to the water. “I’m keeping an eye on them.”

And there they are, my two youngest siblings, wrestling in the sand, splashing each other with water from the breakers.

Lucy’s shrieking, and Gideon’s making that same haunted laugh. I’d worry that he was going to hurt her, if he weren’t still almost as small as she is. And Lucy’s a good swimmer, even for a kid who’s a few weeks shy of two years old. I used to take her to lessons sometimes when Mom was working.

She kicks with the best of them.

“Gideon’s just not growing,” I say.

“Yeah, but he’s a cutie. Have you seen him lately?”

“Not since Christmas.” Noah blows air out of his mouth. “Wait until you see him

sign.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“See for yourself.”

I trudge down to the waterline. They’re on their bellies, gripping the sand and shrieking as the ocean pulls them in and pushes them back out.

I say, “Hey, guys!”

“Chase!” Lucy jumps up and wraps her wet little self around my legs. Her water wings squish against the back of my knees. I reach down and tickle Gideon’s foot so he’ll notice I’m here, and his face opens up.

Chase! he says, then starts signing stuff I completely don’t know.

I sign, slow slow slow, O.K.

O.K. He throws his arms around me and smiles when he lets go. He’s still got that baby-smile, even if he’s clearly no longer a baby. Nice see you.

Nice see you same. Short still.

I know I know. Little brother me.

“Come on,” I say, talking and signing simultaneously for the first time in what feels like years. “Let’s go see Mom, okay?”

“’Kay!” Lucy says, dancing ahead of me with those flat-footed toddler steps. Hate Mom Gid signs.

I don’t have the willpower to sign lie to this anymore.

They both get tired before we’re even close to the house.

It’s probably less than a hundred steps, but I feel a million pounds heavier from the sun, even more so when I scoop up my tired siblings and haul them the rest of the way. When I finally reach the house—Gideon on one hip, Lucy on the other—Mom’s already out in the sand. It’s weird to see her out here; I just assumed the beach wouldn’t be her thing anymore. She looks happier to be here than Dad did. She has a glass of lemonade and a smile, and she offers them both to me.

“Here,” I say. “Take a baby.” She takes Lucy, and I kiss both their cheeks.

“You happy to be back?” she asks me.

I nod. “You and Dad will be okay, right?”

“Chase, of course. It’s only a few weeks. And we’d do anything for you kids.”

Except keep us together, but it’s been a year, and I can’t be too resentful about this anymore. It’s just how it worked out. We aren’t a cohesive family anymore; we just aren’t. And it sucks, but I can deal. I can love Gideon and Lucy, even if they aren’t mine anymore, and . . . and Noah was never anyone’s to begin with. I hand my lemonade back to Mom so I can sign Noah where to Gideon. He points down the beach. Noah’s running around with two big dogs—they got dogs? When did this happen? I went to pick up Lucy three weeks ago. . . .

Noah grabs the dogs by their collars and spins them in tight circles, calming them down, then brings them back to us. “Dog!” Lucy cries, and wraps her arms around her neck.

Noah catches my eye, and I kick myself for being so stupid. I know whose dogs those are.

I crane my neck and look across the street. There’s Bella, dragging a suitcase out of the SUV, arguing with Shannon.

She’s nearly unrecognizable, with all her hair chopped off and her ballerina body even longer and leaner.

And there’s Melinda. And she looks exactly the same.

She gives me this wave. My stomach hurts.

I don’t think Noah’s seen Melinda since last summer, though I assume they’ve talked, but she was off traveling.

Europe or something, while Noah was in class learning Span-ish and French and Italian. He doesn’t look particularly happy to see her. I’m imagining European men with their hands all over her, and I wonder if he is too.

Noah sighs. “And,” he says, “‘one always finds one’s burden again.’”

It’s the same beach, but I feel so cold, even though it’s July and I’m still sweaty from the hike from the ocean. And I have Gideon in my arms, his head on my shoulder, and Claudia clinging to my arm like the rest of our family is made of strangers. You know, I want to tell her, it’s ever the same family throughout the years. But Noah would think I’m talking about the Hathaways, and I’d probably hurt Mom’s feelings just because she doesn’t understand, and Lucy would notice her shaking chin, and Gideon would stick his thumb in his mouth and close his eyes so he wouldn’t have to listen.