In which the moment the pool reaches optimal swimming temperature, Bridget is thrown off the cliff into the ocean instead, chased down by Christian and Lochlan while she screamed her fool head off, sure she could outrun them both, foolishly.
Instead I got the first unintentional dip of this new summer, as the moment I made my way back to the top, Ben threw me off again, overhand, which left me shrieking all the way down telling him to come in. I'm strong enough to swim around the point once, not twice.
They only got away with that because Gage and PJ were down on the beach rearranging the logs for summer. In winter and spring we make a wide open square further back on the beach, slightly underneath the cliffs and in summer we move them down closer to the tide, in rows, so when we have bonfires our backs are to the water, and every now and again whoever's tending the fire closest, facing the sea will get wide eyes and a slack jaw, scrambling backwards away from us in surprise and we'll whip around to see if the creature from the black lagoon is coming out of the surf behind us but there's never anyone there and yet we always look, just in case.
I didn't even get to finish my coffee but I didn't mind. It's twenty-seven degrees in the sun and I am not a big fan of being hot.
When I came up this time, Ben ran at me like a footballer but then veered past me when I screamed for a time-out and launched himself off the cliff in a front flip. It's dangerous and he's not allowed to do that but since Henry wasn't around to try and copy him I let it slide. A whoop and holler and a quiet splash and then Lochlan asked if anyone else was going, or he had to go back in.
She'll burn. No sunscreen. He means us, as in I need to go in. He's always been really good about trying to keep me in the shade. I love him so. So he'll get golden god status by August and I'll still be a little pink monster.
(I've tried to tan. It worked one year. ONE. I have a single photo. DAMN.)
For lunch we made toasted salami sandwiches with pickles and sugar snap pea pods and pomegranate popsicles dipped in gin. It was delicious.
I love summery Friday afternoons. The boys drift out to the pool, to laze about and nap and swim laps and drink cans of ginger ale and talk about nothing and everything. The sauna remains unused. Full of spiders, I bet but it's too hot to even think about it though when I do I picture it being overrun with spiders the moment we step out of it. I've never found a spider in it. It's just a fear.
The pool shed is stocked with clean pool towels, new sunscreens and various snorkels and fins (and probably spiders even though I swept it out pointlessly before filling it). The outdoor kitchen is stocked with drinks, fruit, cold salads and ice and I am indeed ready to go read in the shade until dinner. Dinner is with Caleb who is probably peering at his numbers over in one of the covered chaises on the other side of the pool, having been out here when we piled in from the far yard and I'm a little excited as he seems very balanced today too, waving and smiling, getting up and coming over to chat readily. We seem to do best together when I don't need him, which is the polar opposite of absolutely everyone else. Somehow it makes sense.