I saw volleyballs, soccer balls, Frisbees, footballs, numerous body boards, and lots and lots of kids carrying colorful kites – several in the shape of airplanes. One group of mothers was organizing a sandcastle building contest for the kids – and whichever of the adults felt like joining in; and a group of Marines was planning a pie-eating competition. Something I personally found rather gross: watching grown men shove as much pie in their faces in the shortest amount of time was unpleasant, to say the least. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to do it. It seemed a waste of good food.
Despite the fact that alcohol was not allowed on the beach, I saw several men openly carrying six-packs. It wasn’t really taking that much of a risk: I knew that you would be hard-pressed to find a police officer willing to give a ticket to someone in the service. I suppose you’d call it a sort of brotherhood. I’d lost count of the number of tickets David had gotten out of because of his ‘Fly Navy’ license plate and his military service window stickers.
There was a real holiday feel to the day: I felt cheerless by comparison despite knowing that I’d see Sebastian later. Nevertheless, I had a job to do, such as it was. I pulled out my camera and started snapping some candid shots of the military at play. To my surprise I began to enjoy capturing the varied scenes of happiness: games of football that seemed to be rule-free; small children chasing their burly fathers; kids running around in swimsuits; and enough food to feed an army – which it was, of course.
Although it had been advertised as a ‘family’ fun day, there were lots of singles there, too, men (and a few women) adopted into the family of the unit they served with. There was no doubt that putting your life in the hands of the other guys in your unit created quite a bond.
It dawned on me that I was one of the ‘singles’, and that Donna had adopted me into her family for the day. There were worse ways to be treated.
I heard Ches’s van before I saw it, but I studiously kept my eyes on the boxes of food that Kurt and Stefan were carrying to the spot where Donna had staked her claim.
She looked up at the noise and waved furiously to attract their attention. The van rumbled to a stop nearby and I saw that Mitch was driving, with Bill and Shirley sharing the front seat.
My heart began to beat a little faster because I knew that Sebastian was now just a few feet away from me; although he may as well have been on the moon because I wouldn’t be able to touch him. I would hardly dare to look at him.
I didn’t know which was worse: to see him and not touch him, or to not see him at all.
Shirley jumped out first followed by Bill who winked at me, much to Donna’s amusement; Mitch went around to open the back of the van. I kept my eyes on the trunk of Donna’s car and continued unpacking.
“Can I help you with that?”
Sebastian’s soft voice made me jump. He was wearing a fresh white T-shirt and colorful boardshorts, with a pair of wrap-around sunglasses pushed up onto his short hair. He’d also shaved. I felt dizzy just seeing him, but quickly dropped my eyes.
“Oh, thank you!” I managed to mutter.
He grinned at me and took the box from my nerveless hands, following the convoy of Donna’s sons, Bill and Mitch. I picked up the polenta cake, still untouched from last night, and gingerly joined the line.
“I really liked your article, Mrs. Wilson.”
I turned around to see Fido smiling at me. I was surprised; I’d never heard him speak before.
“Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it: and please, it’s Caroline.”
Sebastian must have overheard because he turned around and frowned, throwing an angry look at Fido. Fido merely grinned back and insisted on carrying the polenta cake. I tried to keep my smile bright, but inside I was dying: wasn’t this day going to be hard enough without worrying about whether or not Sebastian would be jealous of anyone who spoke to me?