As Willow opened her eyes, she was comforted by the idea that she knew what she would see. Those blue walls. That wicker dresser. The gray lattice carpet. The set of lacy throw pillows on the floor next to the bed.
But today, when Willow’s eyelids separated and she inhaled the morning, all of her senses filled with something new. There was an unfamiliar airiness around her. There were pale yellow walls and light wood floors. There was a light salty breeze rattling the old windowpanes. There were thin white curtains undulating freely in the wind.
Willow rubbed her eyes in an effort to bring some clarity to the scene. But those yellow walls, that salty taste in the air, that creaky wooden bed. They were all still there. She peeked her head out the window and saw ocean. Blue, swirling, rhythmic ocean. Willow made her way down the thin staircase cautiously. Her left knee buckled and she tightened her grip on the wooden railing.
There was Dad, posed at the kitchen table with his steaming coffee. Right leg crossed over left in a nearly familiar scene. But as Willow scanned the room, all the differences revealed themselves immediately. There was already the breeziness and the lightness of the walls. But there was also a pile of eggs and a game of Candy Land poised to be played on the kitchen table too. Willow rubbed her tired eyes again and when she lifted her hands, Asher had already popped his head out from underneath the table.
“Finally!” he shouted, shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth and moved the plastic orange Candy Land figure to its starting position block. Willow took a seat at the table and looked at her father, and then at Asher, and then at her father, and then, without any questions, moved a purple plastic figure next to Asher’s and slipped into this new kind of morning with Dad. This new kind of Wednesday morning with Dad in a T-shirt and breakfast on the table. With board games and open windows. With the April air swirling around her. With the sound of waves tumbling onto the sand.
There were questions Willow almost wanted to ask. Where are we? How did we get here? Why are we here? Are we going to school? Where is Mom? How long will we stay here?
But as she pulled her first card from the stack in the middle of the game board, she let those questions slip out to sea with the receding tide she could see from the kitchen window. Willow didn’t want the moment to unravel. And there was a sense that the lightest tug on any loose string could unwind this precariously woven but beautiful moment her father had crafted.
The three of them turned over game cards and counted spaces until Asher made it to the Candy Castle at the end of the board. And all the way along, they giggled over setbacks and fortuitous color jumps. Over Gramma Nutt and her peanut brittle house. Over Lord Licorice and his sharp chin. Over Mr. Mint and his candy cane legs.
And Rex and Willow and Asher all swirled around in their laughter and happiness. They allowed themselves to be enveloped in each other’s laughter and happiness. They allowed themselves to stay so present in it. And when the game was over, and it was about to get quiet, Dad kept the fun flowing. Kept the love flowing.
“Want to head down to the beach?” he asked casually and hopefully. “It’s usually just warm enough in April.”
Willow nodded her head and her wild hair bobbed around. Asher exposed the big gap in his teeth with a full smile.
But then Willow’s chin sank down. “But I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” Willow said to her father. He was always disappointed when they weren’t prepared.
But today was different.
“I got ’em right here for both of you,” Rex told his daughter. And Willow noticed how her father’s chest puffed out at these words. She noticed how his chest puffed out at what fatherhood could also look like if he were just a little bit less demanding of structure and perfection. If he were just a little bit more open to fun. A little bit more willing to love freely.
Asher and Willow cheered and dived into their bathing suits and then the ocean. The water still had some of its winter chill in it, but it felt so good as it first shocked, and then soothed Willow’s skin. There was splashing and diving and toes covered in sand. There were boogie boards and breath-holding contests and cartwheels. There was fun. Unadulterated wholesome all-consuming fun.
And when Willow and Asher had wrinkled fingertips and salty hair, Rex held one towel open at a time and wrapped his son and then his daughter in the warm cotton. They shuffled through the sand back to the house, pulling one foot in front of the other. And when they reached the blue wooden door with the chipped paint, both Willow’s and Asher’s feet were caked in sand.
Rex stood by the door and stared down at his children’s toes. Willow looked up at her father and waited for his instructions to clean off her feet before coming inside and messing the carpet. But instead, her father pressed gently on her shoulders until Willow was sitting down on the front steps, and then bent down and used a wet towel to wipe the sand from Willow’s feet. He held her ankle and patted around gently until her feet were clean. He did it with such focus and such precision. They were traits that Willow had always seen in her father, but she had never felt the love behind them. But here, outside this house at the beach, she saw how Dad could take care of her. How he could be gentle. And warm. And caring. And kind. She saw how he could get sandy toes so clean.
And when there wasn’t a single grain of sand left on Willow’s toes, Rex pressed his daughter’s feet together and kissed them decidedly. And when Rex picked up his head, he and his daughter locked eyes. And just for that instant, they locked hearts too.
And for this day, and six more days at this house at the beach, Willow, Asher and Rex created a new and magical world. Here at this house at the beach, Asher didn’t spill anything or forget to tie his shoes. And Willow didn’t stumble or wet the bed. And Rex didn’t yell into his phone or ask his children to keep quiet.
Instead, here at this house at the beach, it was seven full days of ocean and beach and corn on the cob. Of sand castles and spotted handstands. Of board games and sea glass. Of sweatshirts on the top and towels wrapped around the bottom.
They were all a new version of themselves in that old house breathing in the salty air. And on the drive away from the beach, it was impossible to say whether Willow or Asher or Rex could live as their new selves back at home. But for at least these seven days, each of them could have almost envisioned the three of them living happily ever after.