“Watch this.” Charlie began to do a sand-dance in his bare feet, soft-shoe shuffling through the sand.
“I can do that,” said Marcus.
“Really?”
“Watch me, Daddy.”
He could, too.
Together the man and the boy danced their way back up the sand to the house, singing a wordless song that they made up as they went along, which lingered in the air even after they had gone in for breakfast.