Cruz (Hot Shots 2)

“Papi, when is Mamá going to wake up?” Sailor asks. He’s getting antsy, and no amount of sandcastle building, eating breakfast, or walking the beach is going to stop it.

“Soon. Let her sleep. You and your sister keep her busy.” I kiss the top of his head, soaking in this time with him. I know there will be a day when the time comes that it won’t be fun to hang out with me or his mom.

“I know, but the waves are so good today.” He stares up at me. I ruffle his hair and laugh.

“How about this, if she isn’t up in, say, thirty minutes, we’ll go get in bed with Mamá. Does that sound good?” I’ve learned the way to curb Sailor’s ants in his pants is to barter with certain things.

“Mamá!” Carolina squeals. I look over my shoulder and see her squatting down, taking a picture of the three of us. There are countless ones of all four of us throughout our home. A gallery wall is filled top to bottom with pictures, so much so that there isn’t any more room left. That doesn’t stop Luna from squeezing them in on any other available surface in frames.

“Looks like we can head out to the water, but not before you say good morning, okay, mi hijo?” He bobs his head, quickly moving and darting off to Luna. Carolina is already ahead of the game. There’s nothing our little girl doesn’t love more than cuddles from us. She’s relaxed compared to Sailor’s high energy, though I have a feeling that will change in her teenage years.

“Buenos dias, mi amor.” Her arms wrap around my shoulders moments later. I hold on to them with my hands, soaking in her scent. The years may have changed her body with carrying our children, but her love for me has stayed the same. Luna is still not the best at my native tongue, but she tries her hardest. If anyone has taken to it like a sponge, it’s definitely been Carolina. I swear there are times I’m talking to Luna instead of our five-year-old, temper like her mom, the flare for dramatics at times like Luna, and then, when she puts her hands on her hips and rapid-fires Spanish off on why she thinks we should do something insane like going to the Wet Spot because she wants a new bathing suit or hat, it only shines more.

“Buenos dias, mi diosa, did you sleep well?” I tease.

“I always do. Thank you for letting me sleep in,” she whispers huskily in my ear, lightly nibbling on my lobe, knowing exactly what that does to me.

“Don’t make me take you back to bed and have Sailor pout that he can’t surf.” If that were to happen, he could very well have a full-blown temper tantrum.

“Go surf with the kids. I’ll sit here and watch. I brought my camera and coffee. They’ve waited long enough.” She sits down beside me.

“Carolina might not be ready. She’s still waking up two hours later. Who does that remind you of?” I joke.

“Psh, leave her be. We Cruz women need our beauty rest.” I kiss her lips, stand up, and say, “You and Carolina are already beautiful enough.”

I watch a soft smile take over her face when I call out for Sailor. He picks up his board and scurries over, wetsuit already half on, the top half hanging on his hips just like mine. The water is still cool for spring, and the only way he’ll wear his is if I wear mine.

“Go have fun. Be safe.” She shoos us away, her arm already wrapping around Carolina to snuggle with, the other one holding her coffee, the nectar of the gods, she says. I grab my board, Sailor right beside me, and set off to hang out with him. He’ll get a few sets in, get tired and, take a break with Luna. That’s when I’ll take Carolina out, her on the front of my board while I’m behind her, or sometimes she’ll work on her technique of popping up if she sees that I let go of the board. Let’s just say I get the look and the rapid-fire Spanish then too. It doesn’t bother me though. I love our family even when it’s cranky. Through thick and thin, it’s us four, forever.