Chapter Text
“We at the beach, bitches!”
Carter threw both fists into the air the second the group stepped off the weathered boardwalk and onto the open sand, his voice carrying over the crash of the waves.
“Carter!” Tomme snapped from somewhere behind the herd of kids and luggage. “Language!”
“Sorry, ma!” he yelled back without a shred of remorse.
“Yeah, Carter,” Malory teased, bumping her shoulder against his as she walked past. “Watch your language. There are innocent ears present.”
“The ocean and I are having an emotional reunion,” Carter announced, spreading both arms toward the shoreline like he was greeting a long-lost lover. “Strong language is absolutely appropriate.”
The beach unfolded before them in a dazzling stretch of gold and silver-blue. Evening sunlight spilled across the water in molten ribbons of orange and copper, every wave flashing like liquid fire before collapsing into white foam. The air smelled of salt, sunscreen, and warm driftwood. Somewhere overhead, seagulls wheeled through the sky, screaming at one another like tiny angry landlords.
A strong breeze whipped through the group, tugging hair loose and carrying the roar of the ocean across the sand.
Caleb stopped dead for exactly half a second, staring at the ocean like a pilgrim witnessing salvation.
Then he pointed toward the water.
“Race you!” And before anyone could answer, he exploded forward.
“Oh, you are on!” Carter shouted instantly, launching after his twin at full speed.
Sand sprayed violently beneath their feet as the two sixteen-year-olds tore across the beach like escaped zoo animals, shrieking loud enough to scare nearby seagulls into flight.
August gasped in mock offense. “Absolutely not.”
He kicked off his sandals so hard one nearly hit Enjin, then bolted after them with all the dignity of a caffeinated golden retriever.
“MOVE, CHILDREN!” he hollered. “YOUTH WILL NOT DEFEAT ME!”
Nearby, Enzo had been crouched in the sand moments earlier, carefully inspecting a seashell with the focus and reverence of a marine biologist discovering a new species. At the sound of yelling, his head snapped up.
He saw the race. Saw everyone already halfway to the water. And with a look of profound betrayal, he shot to his feet.
“You started without me?!”
Then he hurled himself into the sprint with every ounce of determination in his body, knees pumping furiously as he charged after the others like his life depended on it.
Jabber watched the chaos for exactly two seconds. Then, without taking his eyes off the racers, he shifted Cynthia into Zanka’s arms.
“Hold this.”
Zanka blinked down at the toddler now sitting against his chest. “Did you just refer to our daughter as this?”
But Jabber was already gone, sprinting across the beach with reckless enthusiasm while yelling something incomprehensible about victory.
Zanka stared after his husband for a long moment as another wave of screaming erupted near the shoreline.
Alice, somehow ahead of everyone despite being half their size, had already thrown herself belly-first into three inches of water and was attempting to body-surf on a ripple.
Caleb wiped out spectacularly a second later, hitting the sand face-first before immediately rolling onto his back, laughing hard enough he couldn’t breathe.
Nearby, Carter had both arms raised triumphantly, shouting, “I WIN!” despite the fact that nobody seemed to know what the finish line had been.
August was still running full speed for reasons unknown.
Enzo dove into the water like an action hero making a final sacrifice.
The entire family had descended into absolute nonsense in under three minutes.
Zanka sighed deeply. Then he looked down at Cynthia nestled comfortably against his chest.
“Are we the only sane ones in this family?” he asked her.
Cynthia considered this with the grave seriousness only toddlers could possess.
Her wide blue eyes swept across the shoreline like a tiny anthropologist observing the bizarre rituals of an unusually loud species. Her father was currently chasing two teenagers and one feral eight-year-old into the ocean. Alice had somehow acquired a bucket she definitely hadn’t owned thirty seconds ago. Carter was still arguing about being the winner of a race no one had organized.
The wind fluttered wisps of Cynthia’s hair across her forehead as she leaned back slightly in Zanka’s arms.
Then she tilted her head up toward him. “Yeah,” she said softly.
Beside them, June slipped off her sandals, she set them neatly beside a towel, then rolled the cuffs of her shorts exactly twice, perfectly even on both legs. Only then did she step toward the shoreline.
The wet sand shifted beneath her feet with a soft hiss as the tide crept forward.
Before she could take another step, Alice came barreling out of nowhere like a human cannonball.
“JUNE!” she shrieked, sprinting full-speed across the beach with seawater flying off her in every direction. “THE OCEAN TOUCHED ME!”
June blinked once. “It’s water,” she replied calmly. “It does that sometimes.”
Alice ignored both the logic and the tone entirely. She seized June’s wrist with wet sandy hands and immediately began dragging her toward the waves.
“COME ON, IT’S COLD!”
“I assumed that,” June sighed as she stumbled after her sister, nearly losing balance in the sand.
Out near the dunes, Enjin lowered himself into a folding chair with the audible groan of a man whose spine had officially declared him ancient. The aluminum legs sank slightly into the sand as he planted himself into the chair.
He cracked open a soda with a sharp hiss. Then he leaned back and stared at the ocean, silently daring nature itself to try something.
The ocean, for its part, continued to exist aggressively.
A second later, Gris trudged over carrying a cooler in one hand. Without a word, he dropped into the chair beside Enjin hard enough to send sand puffing around his feet.
For a few peaceful seconds, neither of them spoke.
“THE WAVES ARE CHASING ME!” Caleb screamed as he sprinted up the shoreline like a man fleeing certain death.
“They’re called tides, dumbass!” Carter shouted behind him, charging after his brother with a dripping strand of seaweed clutched like a weapon.
“That’s what the government wants you to think!” Caleb yelled back.
Gris took a slow drink from his bottle, eyes following the disaster unfolding before them.
“You think they’ll ever tire themselves out?” he asked.
Enjin snorted without looking away from the ocean. “Not before I die.”
A few feet away, Tomme let out a soft laugh at that. She shook her head fondly as the younger half of the family continued to descend into complete lawlessness.
Then, with the stealth and efficiency of a woman who had perfected this maneuver over years of parenting, she leaned toward the backpack beside her chair and quietly unzipped the front pocket.
From inside, she pulled a slim stainless steel flask. The fading sunlight caught against the metal, flashing gold-orange as she twisted the cap loose.
Follo, who had just collapsed onto the towel beside her after losing a footrace to Alice by an honestly humiliating margin, narrowed his eyes immediately.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asked suspiciously.
Tomme said nothing. Instead, she simply tipped her chin toward the shoreline.
Follo suspiciously followed her gaze, and immediately understood.
Out in the shallows, Caleb and August had apparently decided the best possible use of their evening was to throw Enzo back and forth like a football, and the eight-year-old was absolutely thrilled about it.
“AGAIN!” He shrieked, arms flung wide as seawater dripped from his hair. “HIGHER THIS TIME!”
August spun dramatically in a full circle before launching Enzo through the air toward Caleb.
Enzo flew with the confidence of a child who had never once considered his own mortality.
Caleb caught him with a startled grunt, stumbling backward through the water hard enough to nearly wipe out entirely.
“I GOT HIM!”
“THROW ME FARTHER!” Enzo demanded immediately, stretching both arms outward like he was preparing for flight.
Three adults yelled “NO!” at the same time.
Caleb ignored every single one of them and drew his arm back like an NFL quarterback preparing a championship pass.
Beside Tomme, Follo silently held out his hand. “Give me that.”
Without hesitation, she passed him the flask. Follo unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow.
Instant regret hit him immediately.
He coughed violently, eyes watering as the burn of straight moonshine punched him directly in the soul.
“Jesus Christ,” he wheezed.
Then he looked back toward the water just in time to see Caleb toss Enzo high enough to make multiple nearby adults scream in genuine terror.
Enzo, meanwhile, was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
Follo stared at the scene for a long moment before taking another resigned sip.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I finally understand why Enjin smokes so much.”
A few yards farther down the beach, Rudo was locked in an intense psychological standoff with someone approximately three feet tall and fueled entirely by stubbornness.
“Come on, buddy,” he coaxed, gripping Reggie gently beneath the arms as he lowered him toward the sand. “It’s just sand.”
The moment Reggie’s feet drifted within two inches of the ground, the toddler reacted like Rudo was attempting to dip him into molten lava.
“No.” His knees snapped upward with terrifying speed.
One second he was a child, the next, he had compacted himself into a dense defensive sphere of outrage. Arms wrapped around his shins, tiny crocs hovering safely above the beach as he clung to Rudo with the strength of pure survival instinct.
Rudo nearly lost his balance. “How are you this strong?” he grunted, readjusting the dead weight attached to his torso.
Reggie only stared at him with deep personal disappointment.
Rudo tried again, lowering him slowly. “Reggie, the sand is not dangerous.”
“It is touching me,” Reggie informed him.
A warm breeze rolled off the ocean, carrying the sharp scent of salt and sunscreen while waves crashed steadily in the distance. Around them, the beach buzzed with the noise of children shrieking, gulls crying overhead, somebody laughing hard enough to cough.
But none of that mattered because Reggie had declared war on the ground itself.
Very carefully, Rudo attempted another descent, only for Reggie to tuck even tighter.
“No.”
Nearby, Amo sat cross-legged on a towel beneath the fading orange light, entirely relaxed as she watched the situation unfold with detached amusement.
“He has made his position clear,” she observed calmly.
“I can see that,” Rudo muttered through clenched teeth.
He shifted Reggie onto one hip and tried a different approach.
“Look,” he said, gesturing toward the shoreline. “Your cousins are having fun.”
Out near the surf, absolute mayhem continued uninterrupted.
Carter had just been tackled directly into shallow water by Caleb, both of them screaming loud enough to alert nearby wildlife. Alice was enthusiastically attempting to bury June’s feet in sand while June negotiated her release like a hostage victim. Enzo sprinted wildly across the beach with Zanka chasing after him while trying not to spill Cynthia’s juice pouch.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, Malory sat beside a half-finished sandcastle, calmly continuing construction like she’d accepted chaos as a permanent environmental condition.
Reggie studied the scene in silence. His tiny face remained deeply skeptical.
“Just one foot,” Rudo pleaded. “That’s all I’m asking. One foot.”
Reggie considered this with the seriousness of a man reviewing a dangerous legal contract.
Slowly — painfully slowly — he lowered one tiny leg toward the beach.
Rudo held his breath.
Reggie’s toes brushed the sand, and instantly, his entire expression twisted into offended horror.
“Unacceptable.”
He sucked his leg back up at lightning speed and climbed higher onto Rudo like a disgruntled koala fleeing environmental disaster.
Rudo stared blankly out toward the ocean for a long moment, visibly reevaluating every life choice that had led him to this exact point in time.
That was when Enjin wandered over.
He carried a soda in one hand and wore the relaxed posture of a man experiencing profound joy at somebody else’s suffering.
Without saying a word, he stopped beside Rudo and draped an arm across his shoulders.
Together, they watched Reggie continue hovering several inches above the sand like a furious little prince refusing to touch peasant soil.
Enjin took a slow sip from his soda.
“Remember when you were seventeen,” he said casually, “and we got into that huge fight?”
Rudo’s eyes narrowed immediately.
Enjin continued, voice thoughtful. “And I told you I hoped someday you’d have a kid exactly like you, so you’d understand what I went through?”
Very slowly, Rudo turned his head.
Enjin nodded toward Reggie, who was still clinging stubbornly to his father’s chest like a defensive barnacle.
“Well.”
Rudo looked down at his son.
Reggie looked back up at him, completely unbothered, one cheek pressed comfortably against Rudo’s shoulder.
Enjin lifted his soda in a tiny toast. “I manifested accountability.”
Reggie, still wrapped around his father with absolute confidence, patted Rudo’s shoulder sympathetically.
“Daddy is suffering,” he announced.
“That he is,” Enjin agreed with a grin.
Rudo let out the longest, most defeated sigh of his life.
“You know what?” he muttered at last, tightening his hold around the tiny sand-refusing menace in his arms. “Fine. Live here forever. I guess this is my life now.”
Reggie nodded once, fully satisfied with this arrangement.
“Good plan.”
A sudden shriek tore across the beach loud enough to startle half the seagulls into flight.
“ENZO RIO WONGER! GET BACK HERE!”
Zanka was sprinting down the shoreline with wild-eyed determination, moments away from committing a felony in the name of responsible parenting.
Ahead of him, Enzo ran for his life.
The eight-year-old tore across the sand at full speed, cackling so hard he could barely breathe. His dark curls bounced wildly around his face as he zigzagged across the beach.
“You can’t catch me!” he shouted over the roar of the waves.
“I absolutely can!” Zanka yelled back.
Sand exploded behind both of them as they thundered past towels, coolers, and startled beachgoers.
Enzo swerved sharply around Malory and Cynthia, who sat beside a half-finished sandcastle decorated with shells and crooked little towers.
Malory barely had time to look up before Enzo shot past her like a screaming comet.
Half a second later, Zanka came barreling after him.
“What did he do?” Malory called.
Without slowing down, Zanka shouted over his shoulder: “HE REFUSES TO PUT ON SUNSCREEN!”
Enzo darted closer to the waterline where wet sand packed firm beneath his feet.
“You’ll never take me alive!” he hollered into the salty air.
“Buddy,” Zanka called, gaining ground with alarming speed, “this is SPF 50, not prison!”
Nearby, Alice stood ankle-deep in the surf searching for shells. At the sound of yelling, her head snapped up instantly.
“ARE WE PLAYING TAG?”
Before a single adult could stop her, she launched herself into the chase with zero context and maximum enthusiasm.
Now Enzo had two pursuers.
His eyes widened in betrayal. “THEY’RE EVERYWHERE!”
June stood beside the shoreline with seawater swirling around her ankles and watched Alice disappear down the beach with the calm resignation of someone observing an inevitable natural disaster.
“This,” she said thoughtfully to nobody in particular, “is why grandpas have wrinkles.”
Enzo made one catastrophic mistake, he looked over his shoulder. Specifically, he looked over his shoulder to gloat.
“Too slo - ”
Zanka lunged.
In one smooth motion born from years of parenting and sheer survival instinct, he scooped Enzo clean off the ground and slung him upside down over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Nooooo!” Enzo howled immediately, dissolving into helpless laughter mid-protest. His limbs flailed dramatically in every direction. “I’M BEING ARRESTED!”
“You have the right to remain moisturized,” Zanka informed him, smiling hard.
Alice skidded to a stop beside them, bent over with her hands on her knees as she wheezed from laughing too hard.
“Can I be arrested too?” she asked hopefully.
“Yep,” Zanka said without missing a beat, already turning back toward the towels. “You’re next.”
Alice gasped like she’d just been granted the highest honor imaginable. Then she spun around and sprinted back toward Riyo.
“MAMA!” she screamed joyfully. “I’M GOING TO JAIL!”
Riyo, seated near the blankets while helping June collect shells into a bucket, didn’t even glance up.
“Okay, baby.”
Still dangling upside down over Zanka’s shoulder, Enzo continued his theatrical suffering.
“I HAVE RIGHTS!”
“The only thing you have is freckles.”
As they passed the cluster of towels and chairs, Jabber glanced up from where he was crouched beside Cynthia, helping her press tiny shells into the walls of her sandcastle.
“You catch him?”
Zanka adjusted the wriggling child higher onto his shoulder. “He was resisting dermatology.”
Zanka unceremoniously deposited Enzo onto a beach towel.
The instant his back touched fabric, Enzo attempted escape. He rolled sideways with surprising speed.
Zanka caught him immediately by the ankle. “Oh no you don’t.”
Enzo clawed dramatically at the sand.
Tomme leaned over from her chair and handed Zanka the sunscreen bottle with the calm efficiency of a surgical nurse passing over medical instruments.
Zanka flipped open the cap.
Enzo immediately flattened onto his back in surrender, staring up at the sky like a man accepting his fate.
Then Zanka rolled him over onto his stomach like a hot dog at a cookout and squeezed a thick stripe of sunscreen directly across his back.
Enzo shrieked instantly. “COLD COLD COLD - !”
What followed resembled less of a sunscreen application and more of a full-contact wrestling match with a very loud rat.
Enzo squirmed violently, laughed hysterically, and attempted multiple escape maneuvers, including rolling, crawling, twisting, and one surprisingly effective worm-like scoot across the towel.
Zanka thwarted every single attempt. “Hold still.”
Nearby, Caleb was laughing so hard he nearly inhaled seawater.
Even Enjin lowered his sunglasses to watch.
Finally — after coating every visible inch of skin in enough SPF to survive direct sunlight for the next thousand years — Zanka sat back with the exhausted satisfaction of a victorious warrior.
“There.”
Enzo blinked up at him, curls wild, cheeks pink from laughing. “Am I shiny?”
Jabber wandered over, crouched slightly, and inspected his son with great seriousness. Then he nodded approvingly.
“You look like a glazed donut.”
Enzo considered this for exactly one second before breaking into a delighted grin.
“That’s awesome!”
And with that, he sprang to his feet and tore back toward the ocean at full speed, glistening gold in the sunset like an exceptionally well-moisturized feral child.
Farther down the shoreline, away from the louder chaos of splashing water and shrieking children, the waves only rolled gently onto the sand, thin ribbons of foam sliding forward before retreating with a soft hiss.
The evening sun hung low over the horizon, washing everything in warm amber light that turned the wet shoreline to gold.
June knelt carefully near the edge of the tide with her stuffed shark tucked safely beside her towel, positioned well above the reach of the water like a protected VIP. Around her, she had assembled an impressively organized collection of seashells.
Tiny white spiral shells sat in one group, smooth gray shells in another, pink fragments arranged neatly by shade and size.
Every shell had its place.
Cynthia sat beside her close enough that their shoulders occasionally brushed together when they leaned forward.
The little girl moved with the same tentative carefulness she always carried, as though she were constantly worried about taking up too much room in the world. Even at five years old, there was something quietly observant about her.
Every few seconds, her bright blue eyes drifted toward the shoreline where the others screamed and sprinted through the surf. She smiled softly at their antics. At Alice attempting to fight the ocean, Caleb dramatically collapsing into shallow water, and Enzo running like he’d escaped federal custody. But she made no move to join them.
June didn’t seem bothered by that in the slightest. She simply picked through her collection with deep concentration before selecting a pale pink shell shaped like folded wings.
“This one,” she placed it carefully into Cynthia’s hands, “looks like a butterfly.”
Cynthia turned it over delicately between her fingers. The fading sunlight glimmered softly against the shell’s smooth surface.
Her eyes widened. “It does,” she whispered.
June nodded with the certainty of a tiny marine biologist. “That means it’s special.”
Cynthia looked down at the shell again like she’d just been handed treasure.
A few feet away, Eishia sat cross-legged atop a beach towel, absently sorting through the ever-growing piles of shells Alice had been collecting and depositing with absolutely no organizational system whatsoever.
Some were broken, and some still had sand crabs desperately attempting escape.
One appeared to just be a rock.
The ocean breeze lifted strands of her pale hair across her face while the sunset painted her skin in soft gold and orange light.
Riyo trudged over a moment later and dropped down beside her with the exhausted grunt of someone who had spent the last hour parenting at maximum capacity.
Out in the water, Alice launched herself bodily at an incoming wave like she intended to physically overpower the ocean.
Nearby, Enzo sprinted in frantic circles around Caleb while screaming something incomprehensible about sea monsters.
Carter had somehow acquired two large pieces of driftwood and was now aggressively fake-sword-fighting Jabber and August while making his own lightsaber sound effects.
And farther up the beach, Reggie still clung stubbornly to Rudo’s torso, refusing to acknowledge the existence of sand beneath him like a tiny judgmental koala.
Riyo watched the scene with tired affection softening her face. Then she leaned sideways, resting her head briefly against Eishia’s shoulder.
“You know,” she murmured, “June has the patience of a saint.”
Eishia laughed quietly under her breath, eyes drifting toward where June patiently explained shell categories to Cynthia with complete seriousness.
“I think she got that from Gris.”
Riyo snorted instantly.
“Oh, absolutely. If she inherited that from me, she’d already be telling everybody to square up.”
Eishia smiled warmly and slipped an arm around Riyo’s waist, pulling her a little closer against her side.
“Thank God,” she said softly. “One of you with that temperament is enough.”
Riyo barked out another laugh and pressed a quick kiss against Eishia’s temple.
“You say that now,” she replied, glancing toward the shoreline where Alice was actively trying to suplex a wave, “but give Alice another ten years.”
Eishia followed her gaze.
Alice immediately tripped over her own feet, crashed into the surf, then emerged from the water victorious somehow.
Eishia shook her head slowly, laughter slipping loose despite herself.
“Oh,” she sighed. “We’re doomed.”
Out near the shoreline, where the waves rolled in slower beneath the orange glow of sunset, Caleb and Carter had apparently entered the deeply inevitable stage of adolescence where every large adult looked less like a respected authority figure and more like a challenge issued directly by God.
Gris stood ankle-deep on the shore with his arms folded across his broad chest, seawater swirling lazily around his legs. The fading sunlight caught silver strands in his hair and painted warm gold along the sharp lines of his face.
He watched the beach with the calm, immovable patience of a mountain that had seen many storms and survived every single one.
Unfortunately for him, the twins interpreted that calm as weakness.
Caleb narrowed his eyes first, and Carter was quick to follow his gaze.
Then both boys slowly turned toward each other in perfect synchronization.
Caleb slapped a hand against Carter’s shoulder. “We take him together.”
Carter cracked his knuckles with exaggerated intensity. “Prepare yourself, old man.”
Several nearby adults immediately looked up.
Gris raised one eyebrow slowly. “You kids need something?”
The twins advanced through the shallow water like two extremely dramatic henchmen trying to intimidate a final boss.
Caleb planted his feet wide.
“We’ve decided,” he announced solemnly, “to test our strength.”
Carter nodded beside him.
Gris blinked once. He glanced back toward the adults sitting near the towels.
“Are they serious?”
Tomme didn’t even lift her eyes from the book in her hand.
“They are,” she sighed. “Unfortunately, those are my children.”
Enjin cupped his hands around his mouth from farther up the beach.
“I’d start writing the eulogy now!”
The twins began circling, or at least attempting to. The effect was somewhat ruined by the fact they kept stumbling in wet sand, still, they committed fully.
Caleb lunged first with a battle cry that sounded suspiciously like a dying goose, wrapping both arms around Gris’s waist.
A split second later, Carter launched himself at Gris’s shoulders.
For one glorious moment, the boys strained with every ounce of teenage determination they possessed.
Caleb made a sound usually heard from people moving refrigerators.
Nothing happened.
Gris didn’t move an inch, he barely even shifted his weight.
The ocean itself seemed more affected than he was.
Caleb grunted in outrage. “Why are you so dense?”
Carter’s face turned violently red with effort. “Are you made of concrete?!”
Gris looked down at the two teenagers hanging off him like decorative accessories.
“You boys done?”
“Never,” Caleb wheezed.
Gris sighed, then he reached down and with horrifying ease, he hooked one arm around Caleb’s middle and the other around Carter’s.
Both boys yelped instantly as their feet left the ground.
“WAIT WAIT WAIT - ”
Gris turned and began walking deeper into the ocean, carrying both sixteen-year-olds like oversized grocery bags.
The entire family immediately stopped what they were doing to watch.
Alice started bouncing up and down so hard she nearly fell over.
“DUNK THEM!” she screamed. “DUNK THEM! DUNK THEM!”
Malory sat upright so fast she almost knocked over Cynthia’s sandcastle.
“Yes!” she cackled. “Get ’em, grandad!”
Caleb kicked helplessly from under Gris’s arm.
“Mother!” he shouted dramatically. “Help us!”
Tomme turned another page leisurely, “This is important for your development.”
Carter twisted around wildly. “We trusted you people!”
The water climbed higher as Gris continued walking until waves crashed against his waist.
Then he lowered both boys directly into an incoming wave.
The ocean hit them square in the face. For one brief moment, all that remained visible were two flailing sets of arms vanishing beneath white foam.
Then the twins exploded back upward, sputtering violently.
“BETRAYAL!” Carter coughed through a mouthful of seawater.
“THIS MAN HAS NO HONOR!” Caleb shouted while blinking saltwater aggressively out of his eyes.
Gris released them at last and stepped calmly backward.
The twins staggered upright, drenched from head to toe. Their hair plastered across their foreheads while seawater streamed down their faces in dramatic rivulets.
For one moment, all three of them stood motionless beneath the glowing sunset while waves rolled around their legs.
Then Caleb slowly pointed at Gris with a trembling hand. “You’re stronger than you look.”
Carter nodded between heavy breaths beside him. “You have earned our respect.”
Alice threw both hands into the air. “AGAIN! AGAIN!”
Enzo materialized beside her so suddenly it genuinely looked like he’d been summoned by chaos itself.
“Throw them farther!” he yelled.
Malory laughed so hard she nearly rolled backward off her towel entirely.
The twins exchanged one long look.
Then together, with the united stupidity only teenage boys could achieve, they charged again.
This time Gris didn’t even bother pretending to struggle.
He caught Caleb effortlessly by the wrist and Carter by the back of the neck and redirected both boys directly into another incoming wave with the casual air of a man tossing bread crumbs into the sea.
Their shrieks rang across the shoreline loud enough to send an entire flock of gulls screaming into the air.
For the next hour, the beach dissolved into the kind of chaos that only happened when an entire family stopped trying to behave like civilized people.
The sun drifted lower toward the horizon, deepening the sky into streaks of orange, rose, and soft violet. Waves rolled endlessly onto the shore with a rhythmic crash while laughter carried across the sand in overlapping bursts.
Somewhere nearby, music played faintly from another family’s speakers.
Seagulls screamed overhead like unpaid supervisors.
Alice, Enzo, and Caleb became increasingly indistinguishable from a pack of highly energetic aquatic mammals. They spent most of the evening sprinting in and out of the ocean at dangerous speeds, soaking wet and coated in enough sand to qualify as their own ecosystem.
Every few minutes they returned from the surf carrying treasures.
Shells, seaweed, interesting rocks, half a sand dollar. One flip-flop that definitely belonged to somebody else.
At one point, Enzo triumphantly presented a suspiciously dead crab he’d discovered floating near the shore.
“I FOUND A FRIEND!” he announced proudly.
After a brief funeral conducted entirely by Alice, the crab was respectfully returned to the ocean with full military honors and several dramatic salutes.
A little farther down the beach, June and Cynthia remained absorbed in their sandcastle empire.
What had started as a simple castle had evolved into an elaborate shell-lined kingdom sprawling across nearly six feet of shoreline. Tiny towers rose from carefully packed sand walls while curved trenches redirected incoming water through an intricate moat system.
June worked with intense architectural focus, smoothing walls with the side of her hand.
Cynthia carefully pressed shells into the towers like precious gemstones.
Meanwhile, Riyo and Eishia spent the majority of the evening switching seamlessly between helping collect shells and chasing Alice away from increasingly dangerous waves.
Alice had apparently decided the ocean itself was a worthy opponent.
Every time a larger wave approached, she planted her feet dramatically and charged straight toward it with the confidence of a tiny gladiator.
“I CAN TAKE IT!” she screamed.
“You absolutely cannot!” Riyo yelled while sprinting after her.
One particularly large wave knocked Alice completely off her feet. She surfaced seconds later sputtering seawater from her mouth.
Nearby, Jabber, Carter, August, and Follo had transformed several pieces of driftwood into light sabers and were now deeply committed to a tournament with rules that changed approximately every thirty seconds.
“No hitting above the shoulders!” Carter declared.
August blocked dramatically. “That was not previously established!”
Jabber, who had stopped caring about consistency nearly twenty minutes earlier, simply smacked both of them lightly with driftwood and declared himself victorious.
Follo collapsed into the sand, claiming corruption.
At the edge of the towels, Rudo remained seated cross-legged with Reggie firmly settled in his lap, both of them observing the entire beach with identical expressions of deep skepticism.
Together, they looked less like participants in a family vacation and more like wildlife documentarians studying a particularl species in its natural habitat.
At one point, after extensive negotiation, Reggie finally agreed to attempt contact with the sand again.
Rudo lowered one foot carefully toward the ground like he was negotiating a peace treaty.
Reggie allowed exactly three grains of sand to touch his toes, then his face tightened in immediate offense.
“Still unacceptable,” he announced, and promptly climbed back into Rudo’s arms like the experiment had confirmed his worst fears.
Nearby, Enjin and Gris sat side-by-side in folding chairs with drinks in hand, watching the beach unravel around them with the detached calm of veteran survivors.
They offered occasional commentary like deeply unimpressed sports announcers.
“There goes Caleb,” Enjin observed as the teenager sprinted past, screaming while covered in seaweed.
“Poor form,” Gris replied.
A few minutes later, Carter attempted to tackle Gris again.
The attempt lasted approximately four seconds before Gris flipped him clean back into the water.
“Strong opening,” Enjin noted.
The twins challenged him three more times over the course of the evening.
They lost every single one.
Caleb finally emerged from the ocean looking like a man returning from war.
His blond hair hung in wet strings across his forehead and into his eyes. Saltwater dripped steadily from his chin. Sand clung stubbornly to every visible inch of skin. His arms, his knees, the side of his neck, and somehow one eyebrow.
He trudged across the beach with slow, staggering steps, shoulders slumped beneath the crushing weight of defeat while seawater squished audibly in his shoes.
Behind him, the waves crashed dramatically against the shore like they too mourned his downfall.
Tomme glanced up from her towel just in time to see her soaking wet son looming over her like the ghost of poor decisions.
Without a single word, he let out a long, ragged sigh. Then he collapsed face-first into the sand beside her.
Whump.
Sand puffed around him on impact.
For several long seconds, he remained completely motionless, sprawled dramatically beside the towels like a fallen soldier abandoned on the battlefield.
Tomme looked down at him. “Are you dead?” she asked mildly.
Caleb’s muffled voice emerged weakly from the sand.
“Tell Grandad,” he rasped, “he was worthy.”
Tomme snorted softly and reached over to brush damp hair away from his face.
“I’ll notify the newspapers.”
With the exhausted effort of a boy overcoming unimaginable suffering, Caleb rolled onto his back and stared blankly up at the darkening sky.
“That man folded me,” he whispered, “like a lawn chair.”
A second later, Carter appeared from the shoreline looking equally devastated.
His shirt clung to him. His curls dripped seawater down the sides of his face. He staggered toward the towels with the haunted expression of someone who had seen horrors beyond mortal comprehension.
Then he dropped heavily beside his twin with a dramatic groan.
“He folded both of us.”
Caleb slowly lifted one weak hand toward the heavens. “We were young,” he murmured.
“Young and foolish,” Carter agreed. “We thought ourselves invincible. But we were merely boys.”
Tomme stared down at her two gangly sons lying half-dead in the sand like shipwreck survivors washed ashore after a tragic voyage.
Despite herself, affection softened her expression.
For approximately three peaceful seconds, silence settled over the towels. Then Caleb’s eyes drifted lazily toward the boardwalk behind them.
A neon sign flickered brightly in the distance.
SNOW CONES.
“Oh no,” Carter whispered immediately beside him, recognizing that exact look in his brother’s eyes. “No. Absolutely not.”
Caleb turned toward Tomme. His expression transformed instantly into something devastatingly tragic.
He looked like a Victorian orphan moments away from asking for one final bowl of soup before succumbing to tuberculosis.
“Mother,” he breathed softly.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was gonna ask,” He whined.
He immediately scooted closer across the sand like an oversized blond raccoon begging for scraps.
“Pleeeease.”
Without even looking away from the ocean, Tomme pointed directly at him.
“You already ate six gas station hot dogs today.”
“Five and a taquito,” Carter corrected for him.
Caleb ignored him entirely and pivoted strategies with terrifying speed. He spread both arms dramatically toward the younger kids.
“Think of the cousins.”
As if summoned by dark magic itself, Enzo materialized beside Caleb’s shoulder still faintly shimmering with sunscreen.
“Snow cones?” he gasped.
Alice whipped around so fast she nearly fell over. “SNOW CONES?!”
Within seconds, every child on the beach had somehow migrated toward Tomme like sharks detecting blood in the water.
June approached with considerably more dignity but no less interest.
Meanwhile, Caleb had fully committed to the performance. He dropped dramatically onto both knees in front of Tomme and clasped his hands together.
“Mother,” he said solemnly, “these children have suffered.”
“We’ve suffered?” Alice echoed instantly.
“Yes!” Caleb cried passionately. “We battled the tides! We fought the waves! Grandad assaulted us!”
“You attacked him first,” Tomme reminded him.
“That is irrelevant to my narrative.”
Enzo stepped forward and pointed dramatically toward the glowing boardwalk.
“The snow cone stand calls to us.”
Carter placed one hand against his chest. “Its icy song echoes through the night.”
Malory looked up from her towel with deep exhaustion. “Oh my God. Not another performance.”
“It’s for the children,” Caleb insisted.
“You are the children,” she shot back.
Caleb ignored her completely.
Slowly, dramatically, he lowered himself even farther until his forehead rested against Tomme’s knee.
“Please,” he whispered. “Let us know joy.”
Tomme stared at the growing circle of sandy little faces surrounding her.
Across the towels, Follo had completely given up trying not to laugh.
Enjin took one look at the scene and shouted from his chair, “Weak! Don’t give in!”
Caleb lifted his head slightly and looked up at Tomme with giant pathetic green eyes.
Then, in the most manipulative tone imaginable, he said: “Mommy, please.”
Tomme gasped in immediate outrage. “Oh, don’t you dare weaponize childhood nicknames against me.”
“It’s working though,” Carter observed helpfully.
Tomme groaned loudly and reached for her bag.
The children collectively inhaled.
“You all get one thing,” she warned while digging through her wallet. “One. And if anybody comes back sticky, loud, or bleeding, I’m pretending I don’t know you.”
The explosion of cheering was instantaneous.
Alice screamed loud enough to startle nearby gulls into the air. Enzo sprinted in a full circle around the towels like he’d just won the lottery.
Caleb pressed both hands dramatically over his heart. “You are a merciful queen.”
Tomme slapped a wad of cash directly against his chest.
“Take Carter with you so at least one of you remembers how money works.”
Carter snatched the bills immediately. “Smartest thing you’ve said all day.”
“Hey - ”
“Move your ass,” Carter interrupted, already grabbing Caleb by the arm.
And then the cousins exploded toward the boardwalk in one massive sandy stampede, shrieking loud enough for half the beach to hear them.
Tomme watched the herd of children disappear toward the glowing snow cone shack in a storm of flying sand, shrieking voices, and absolute lack of coordination.
The neon sign flickered blue and pink against the darkening boardwalk while the group sprinted toward it like pilgrims finally reaching salvation.
Tomme let out a long, tired sigh and leaned back against her towel, stretching her legs out in the cooling sand.
The sky above them had deepened into dusky shades of violet and gold. String lights along the boardwalk blinked warmly to life one by one while the ocean rolled endlessly nearby, dark waves tipped silver beneath the fading sunlight.
Beside her, Follo stretched his legs out with a groan and accepted the flask back when Tomme held it toward him.
He took another cautious sip this time, clearly remembering his previous encounter with the liquid fire inside.
“You didn’t even survive the second ‘Mommy,’” he observed.
Tomme snorted immediately. “That was a low blow, and he knew it.”
From his folding chair nearby, Gris lifted one eyebrow without taking his eyes off the distant boardwalk.
“Caleb inherited your talent for emotional blackmail.”
Tomme turned toward him slowly. “And whose fault is that exactly?”
Gris lifted his soda in surrender. “I raised you,” he admitted. “I did not create that specific menace.”
Enjin snorted into his drink hard enough to cough.
“That kid could convince a bank teller to hand over the vault keys if he looked sad enough.”
As if summoned by the mention of chaos, August jogged past the towels a second later still damp from the ocean.
Without breaking stride, he reached down, stole Follo’s drink directly from his hand, and took a quick sip.
“Hey,” Follo protested weakly.
“You weren’t drinking it.”
August grinned shamelessly before leaning down to press a quick kiss against the side of Follo’s head.
Follo looked deeply offended for approximately half a second.
Then, entirely on instinct, he grabbed August by the front of his shirt and tugged him back down for another kiss.
“Gross,” Malory announced immediately from her towel.
“You literally watched us get married,” August pointed out with a grin.
“Yeah, and I cried there too,” Malory shot back. “Doesn’t mean I wanna witness middle-aged man romance in 4K.”
Follo gasped in genuine offense. “We are not middle-aged.”
“Your knees make sound effects when you stand up,” Malory replied instantly.
August laughed loudly while resting one hand against the back of Follo’s neck, fingers brushing absentmindedly through his husband’s salt-damp hair.
Nearby, Rudo finally collapsed down beside Amo with the exhausted relief of a man returning from war.
Reggie remained firmly perched in his lap like royalty refusing to walk among commoners.
The toddler sat comfortably against his chest, completely unashamed of the arrangement.
Rudo let out a long breath and dropped his head onto Amo’s shoulder. “I haven’t used my legs in over an hour,” he mumbled.
Amo rested one warm hand against his knee, amusement flickering softly in her eyes.
“You chose this life.”
“I did not realize this life involved becoming permanent transportation.”
Reggie looked up thoughtfully from his throne. “You are very comfortable,” he informed his father.
Rudo closed his eyes. “That almost makes it worth it.”
Not far away, Jabber emerged slowly from the surf carrying Cynthia against his chest. Both of them dripped seawater onto the sand, glowing gold beneath the final stretch of sunset.
Cynthia’s curls hung damp against her forehead in soft dark spirals while her tiny arms rested comfortably around Jabber’s neck. She hummed quietly to herself.
Jabber carefully lowered her onto a towel beside Zanka.
“There’s my little mermaid,” he said warmly.
Cynthia immediately held up a tiny fistful of shells she’d collected while floating near the shore.
“Treasure,” she announced proudly.
Zanka’s entire expression softened at once. He reached over to brush a wet curl gently away from her cheek before kissing her forehead.
Satisfied, Cynthia began carefully arranging the shells in neat little rows between them.
Jabber dropped down beside Zanka with a tired grunt and wrapped one arm loosely around his waist.
“You know,” he murmured, watching Cynthia proudly sort her treasures, “seeing you two out there was disgustingly adorable.”
Jabber grinned lazily. “You love me.”
Before Zanka could answer, Cynthia wedged herself directly between them and proudly presented another shell for inspection.
Jabber accepted it with full seriousness. “Amazing find.”
A little farther down the towels, Riyo had somehow ended up half-curled into Eishia’s lap.
Her eyes were closed while Eishia slowly threaded her fingers through strands of salt-tangled red hair, carefully untangling knots the ocean had left behind.
The breeze carried the scent of saltwater and sunscreen between them while distant laughter drifted back from the boardwalk.
Riyo cracked one eye open. “If Alice comes back blue,” she said sleepily, “I’m blaming you.”
Eishia laughed softly under her breath and leaned down to kiss the corner of her mouth.
“If Alice comes back blue,” she replied, “she’ll think it’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to her.”
Riyo smiled faintly against her shoulder.
“That,” she admitted, voice warm with exhaustion and affection, “is extremely true.”