Bait

Serena hands him a pair from the laundry basket. I resist the urge to jump in and help him change.

I hold back from congratulating him for doing it himself, playing the whole thing down as we head outside.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the sun on my bare back. A long time since my scars have seen the light of day. For the first time in a while they barely bother me. I’m all smiles as I get Cameron kitted up in his armbands and throw the turtle in the water.

“Let’s go, bud,” I say and drop myself in the shallow end. I’m lazing on my back quite happily as Cameron tackles the steps on his own. He launches himself in the water with a grin and bobs about for just a second until he finds his feet.

He can swim. He’s been in this pool since before he could walk, even if it’s been a while.

That knowledge makes it easier for me to play it cool as he splashes over to the deep end. He chases the turtle but the turtle keeps on moving, always just that little way out of reach.

I hold back. Hold firm. Reining myself in tight from grabbing it for him.

He’s laughing his silent laugh as he paddles the length of the pool after it. I keep out of his way to give him a clear path, and something happens in that water. Something quite extraordinary.

Maybe it’s the familiarity of happier times. Maybe it’s the challenge of the chase that distracts him enough to forget his usual inhibitions.

Maybe it’s just all in good time, like they said it would be.

But my nerves prickle as I hear him grunt and grab for that big green turtle. My feet are firmly on the floor as he reaches out for its inflated fin and holds on tight.

And my heart is in my throat as he squeals in triumph when it’s his.

Like father, like son.

“Good work, bud!” I call, and he grins. I try my best to keep my voice light. “Now let him go and chase him again. See if you can catch him a second time.”

He looks so proud of himself, my boy. He lets go happily and watches that turtle go bobbing back across the pool. I’m watching too, pretending I’m in the race to grab him myself, and Cam picks up a gear, his feet kicking out like a trooper as he thinks I’m going to steal the glory.

I hang back, pretend I’m straining. “Go, champ! You got this!”

Kicking and sploshing and concentration – that grin still firm on his face as he swims.

And then he catches him.

He catches him at the corner of the pool and slams his hands around that turtle’s goofy head. And he laughs.

My boy laughs.

My heart soars so high it’s fucking painful. I’ve got a lump in my throat I can’t swallow away, and a deadpan expression like it’s no big fucking deal that he just made a sound.

“Great job!” I call. “Well done, Cam. You got him.”

And he forgets himself.

I guess in that one happy moment he forgets it all. He points at the turtle’s big green flippers and looks me right in the face, and then he speaks.

Two simple words that change my whole fucking world. “He’s fast.”

I splash myself with water so he can’t see the tears. I pretend I’m coughing water and laughing as I make my way over.

“Yeah, bud. He sure is. But you’re faster. You swim like a fish.” I pause. “Remember this game, Cam?”

I don’t know if he does, but I sure do. He’s not expecting it as I slam my hands flat on the surface. Not expecting to get splashed as the water spurts.

I’m not sure it really is the memory that has him giggling his head off, but I don’t give a shit either way.

He splashes me back, kicking and slapping water all over me, and I’m laughing too.

And then I see Serena at the railings. I point and wave and Cam does too.

“Shall we shout her, Cam? See if we can get her to hear us? Maybe she’ll come down too if we’re loud enough.”

I don’t really expect him to join in as I shout her name.

She clasps her hand over her mouth as he does.

I spin him around so he can’t see her surprise.

And I thank my lucky fucking stars that Mariana got her way with this stupid bloody swimming pool.Twenty-NineSummer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.

C. Day LewisAbigailMy monster doesn’t come for me all week. I’m having fun all the same, planning the barbeque and dancing until my feet ache at Diva’s on Thursday night.

I only check my phone once when I get home, but when I do, there’s a single message waiting for me.