“Good morning,” said Lori, smiling at her daughter’s tousled sleepy appearance.
“Mommy, why are Daddy and the Silver Lake uncles sleeping on the deck?” asked the little girl, climbing onto the bed.
“They had a late night,” replied Lori, trying to think how she was going to explain this to the curious, intelligent five-year-old.
“With beer and Jack,” noted the little girl with disapproval. “I saw the beer cans and the empty bottles, Mommy.”
“Oh, boy!” thought Lori, feeling her own head a little clouded thanks to the beer and bourbon of the night before. Delaying answering, she asked, “Where’s your brother?”
“Watching Sponge Bob in the sunroom.”
“Ok,” said Lori calmly. “You go and watch tv with him while I jump in the shower. Keep him indoors. I’ll make everyone breakfast when I come through.”
“If I have to,” muttered the little girl.
“And don’t waken your daddy or your uncles,” cautioned Lori.
A familiar tv show theme song and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee roused Jake. He could hear the waves crashing in on the beach and took a moment or two to work out that he was on one of the sun loungers on the deck and not in bed. As he struggled to sit up, he could feel his head thumping and his stomach heave. Slowly, he opened his eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight around him.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he swung his legs round and tried to stand up. Despite the thick padding, the sun lounger was not made for sleeping on and his back was in agony. The world around him was swimming and he knew he was about to be sick. Stumbling down the path to the beach, Jake made it as far as the fence before puking his guts up into the sand. The events of the night before came clattering into focus and he dropped to his knees on the sand as a fresh wave of grief engulfed him.
Rich was gone.
The realisation hit him afresh; hit him like a ton of bricks crushing his heart. As tears flowed down his cheeks, he scattered sand over the pile of vomit then sat staring out towards the ocean. Slowly, he regained a little composure and staggered to his feet. Checking that his pockets were empty, Jake walked down across the cool sand into the ocean. As the waves lapped at his ankles, then his knees then his thighs, he kept walking before diving expertly into a large oncoming wave. The shock of being immersed in cold water shifted the worst of his hangover. With powerful strokes, Jake swam away from the shore, relishing the solitude of the ocean.
Sometime later, he picked a large wave and body surfed back onto the beach. As he scrambled to his feet and shook his long, wet hair out of his eyes, he realised that Lori was sitting on a colourful beach towel halfway up the sand waiting for him.
“Morning, rock star,” she said quietly as he came towards her.
“Mornin’.”
“You ok?”
“I’ve felt better,” confessed Jake, sitting beside her. “Swim helped clear my head. You ok, li’l lady?”
“A little muzzy. Jack Daniels is evil stuff,” replied Lori with a smile.
“Think we’re all suffering.”
“Yup. Paul was in the bathroom when I came out here. Grey’s staring into a mug of coffee,” she replied as she rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. “Rich would see the funny side of it, I’m sure.”
With a small laugh, Jake said, “He’d have wakened with a lousy hangover, growled at us all then stormed off home to sleep it off.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” sighed Lori, recalling many late nights/early mornings that had ended precisely that way. “So now what?”
“I have no idea,” replied Jake, drizzling sand through his fingers. “We wait till his body’s released. Have a memorial or a funeral. Christ, how do we start to say goodbye to him? How?”
“Take it one day at a time,” said Lori calmly. “Be guided by Jethro and Maddy.”
“I guess,” agreed Jake, running his sandy fingers through his damp hair anxiously. “Where are the kids?”
“Watching tv,” answered Lori. “Stand by for a lecture about drinking beer and Jack from Miss M. She’s cross with you. It was Melody who found you all asleep on the deck.”
“Great. A lecture from the kindergarten beer police!”
“Something to look forward to,” giggled Lori.
“I hope Grey’s left some coffee,” said Jake. “I’ll need it before that lecture.”
“You need a shower too,” she observed. “Come on. Let’s go inside. Maddy and Kola will be over about lunchtime. They’re bringing sandwiches. Gives you all time together to sort some stuff out. Kola and I will take care of the kids.”
“What would I do without you, li’l lady?” he asked, planting a soft salty kiss on her lips.
Entertaining six children on the beach for the afternoon proved to be more of a challenge than either Kola or Lori had anticipated. Even with Becky’s help, keeping track of them all was like herding cats. Eventually, Lori suggested that they work together to build a huge sandcastle. If nothing else, it kept the little ones out of the water as they happily filled bucket after bucket with sand for the older ones to work with.
“Have you tried to explain things to the kids?” asked Kola, watching her two small daughters work together to fill a bucket with damp sand.
“Not yet,” replied Lori quietly. “I’ve not had a chance. We’ll try to explain it to them later. They’re too young to fully understand.”
“I know. Becky sobbed her heart out when I told her this morning. Think it brought it all back about her mom and Gary. Kind of concerned about her.”
“She’s been through this too often for someone so young,” acknowledged Lori, recalling the night Grey’s wife, Sandy, died all
