August 3, 2014
It’s the first time in years, probably since we were all living at home, that all five siblings, additional spouses and children, and our parents are all able to make it to San Diego in August. We cram into Grandma’s house, sticking the kids in one spare room and our parents in another, and littering the rest of the house with air mattresses and sheets. It’s squished and we get on each other’s nerves, so basically everything is normal.
One night, just after all the kids have gone to bed, we’re sitting around the living room listening to Lauren tell yet another tale of her paleo diet, when Tanner's wife comes down the stairs. I glance up from a text to Daniel and hear her telling us to “go out and have some sibling time.”
As soon as the spouses agree to hold down the fort at home, Tanner leaps up, our fearless leader. He hurdles over Kristen, sprawled out on the floor, and digs around in his suitcase for a second, finally victoriously pulling out his swimsuit. He turns back to us, curly hair bouncing, and says, “Race you.”
We fly into action. Years of changing in locker rooms and cars for swim events of all varieties have not gone to waste. By the time I make it out of the closet (the bathroom and Grandma’s room were taken), striped beach towel in hand, Tanner is already by the door. Lauren is digging around in Mom’s purse for the car keys. She tosses them to Tanner just as Sadie emerges from the bathroom. Kristen is last, but only because she grabbed extra towels.
We run out the door, Tanner leading, then Kristen, Sadie and Lauren together as always, and me heading up the tail. We all stop short outside the door, simultaneously realizing that it’s pouring rain. This isn’t the soft mist or light drizzle of Salinas; this is downright angry downpour. It hammers the pavement in our moment of hesitation.
Sadie grins. “We’ll have the beach to ourselves.” She says.
We don’t need a lot of convincing and fifteen minutes later, we are greeted with miles of damp sand clumping to our feet as we sprint down the beach and absolutely no people but us.
We drop our towels in a heap and hastily shed our cover-ups before barreling into the water, diving into the waves head first, shrieking in childhood delight.
And in that moment with some of my dearest friends, I don’t think of how isolated I am from all of them being the only unmarried sibling. I don’t think about how I’m missing half of finals week to be here. I don’t even think about You.
I just take a deep breath and dive.
Gosh. This feels like a novel.
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