Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

“Are you really sure? I could let her borrow one of mine?” she asks, a frown on her face.

I lean against the doorframe, chuckling at her as Clay comes to join me, a book under his arm. I look down at him: his dark blue shorts fall just below his knees and his white t-shirt is as crisp and white as the day it left the store. He has a cap on his head facing backward and his sunglasses clutched in the hand that isn’t holding the book.

When I picked the kids up yesterday, I never expected to have Izzie want Harmony to come to the beach with us, she caught me off guard and I panicked. Truth be told, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since Monday. The memory of her sitting opposite me in Zanders and watching the glow on her face as she ate the steak flits through my mind before I push it away.

“She won’t fit in yours, Izzie,” he huffs, shaking his head.

“Ugh! You’re such a… a boy!”

I chuckle at them as Clay rolls his eyes. “Hurry up already! I want to leave.”

“Clay,” I warn.

He shrugs. “What? She’s taking too long.”

Izzie stomps off into her walk-in closet, coming out with her floppy summer hat in her hand and placing it on her head before she grabs her giant sunglasses and pushes them over her eyes.

“I’m ready,” she says, picking up her white and pink bag and the bear that she brought home from art class. She pushes between us, her flip-flops slapping against the stairs as she walks down them.

“Come on,” I say to Clay, chuckling.

I follow him down the stairs, meeting Izzie at the door as she opens it. I click the button on my fob to open the car so that they can get in as I carry all of the beach bags and the cooler bag with the food in it.

Once it’s all loaded in the trunk, I slide into the driver’s seat and check that they’re all strapped in, including the bear who is sitting in the middle with its own hat and sunglasses on.

I smirk at Izzie’s concern for the bear before turning the ignition on and reversing out of the driveway.

It’s not until we’re halfway to Harmony’s mom’s place that I realize that I’m about to spend the whole day with Harmony and the kids. Being at the adult art class and the restaurant was different; there were other people there as a buffer, but here at the beach, there’s only going to be us and the kids. I asked Amelia if she wanted to come, hoping that she’d say yes, but there’s still something not right with her. She was laid up in bed watching Netflix, hardly paying attention to me as she waved me off, telling me to have a good time without her.

“Are we there yet?” Izzie asks as colorful houses loom in sight, bouncing in her seat.

“Nearly,” I answer her, driving down the road and pulling up outside of a navy blue paneled house.

Harmony is standing on the small porch with a bag at her feet as she waits for us, her eyes watching the car as it comes to a complete stop. My eyes scan her, taking her all in; the denim shorts that she’s wearing show off her legs and I can’t help but stare at them before moving to the green tank top that covers her torso. My eyes linger there for a second until my gaze lifts up to her face. She’s even more beautiful than she was all those years ago.

“Is that Miss J’s house?” Izzie asks.

I swallow as Harmony walks down the couple of steps, her own bag in her hand, entrancing me.

“Yeah,” I answer, shaking my head. “This is her house.”

“But... it’s so small. How can someone live there?”

I pull my gaze away from Harmony and turn around in my seat. “Not everyone has a big house like us, pumpkin. Some people live in small houses, some people don’t even live in houses, instead they live in apartments.” I stop for a second, watching her eyes as they take in all of the information that I’m giving her. “And some people don’t live inside at all, they have to sleep outside.”

“But… don’t they get cold?”

I clear my throat as the door opens, fighting with myself to not look at Harmony as she slides in the passenger side.

“I suspect they do, pumpkin.”

She thinks on that for a couple of seconds, moving her eyes from mine to the window before nodding her head at herself. “We should help them.” My eyes widen at her. How can a nearly six-year-old little girl think such selfless thoughts? “Can we, Daddy?”

“Of course we can.” I smile at her and lift my hand for a high-five.

She smacks her small palm against mine before I spin back around, catching Harmony’s gaze.

“Hey.” I smile, clearing my throat and shuffling in my seat. The confined space we’re in makes me all the more aware of her.