“I’m not abandoning them.
I’m sharing them.”
Then I took off my sandals and walked toward the ocean.
The first wave touched my feet before anyone called my name.
The water was colder than I expected.
It rushed around my ankles, pulled sand from beneath my toes, and left me unsteady for a second.
I laughed.
It was a small sound, almost swallowed by the wind, but it was the first sound I had made all day that belonged entirely to me.
Behind me, Martin called out.
“Where are the goggles?”
I kept walking.
They were in the outer pocket of the beach bag, where I always put them.
Martin would find them if he looked.
A few minutes later, our middle child wanted a snack.
Then the youngest needed the bathroom.
Clara tried to send our oldest after me, but the child refused.
“Mom said Dad is in charge,” I heard from a distance.
I did not turn around.
For one hour, I watched the waves.
I let the sun warm my shoulders.
I thought about how many times I had rushed through showers because someone was calling for me, how often I had eaten cold food after serving everyone else, and how naturally Martin had come to believe that my exhaustion was part of the furniture.
When I returned, Clara was no longer lying down.
She stood beside the lounge chairs holding one child’s wet shirt and another child’s half-open juice pouch.
Martin was kneeling in the sand, searching through the beach bag.
“Finally,” Clara said.
I checked my watch.
“It has been fifty-eight minutes.”
“The youngest had to use the bathroom twice.”
“That happens.”
“Your middle child refused the snack I offered.”
“Our middle child dislikes bananas.”
“How was I supposed to know that?”
I let the question remain between us.
Clara looked away first.
Martin found the goggles in the outer pocket and stood up.
“Could we reset?” he asked.
“That depends on what you mean by reset.”
“We all calm down and enjoy the trip.”
“Who takes care of the children while everyone enjoys it?”
He glanced toward his mother.
“We can divide things.”
“That is what the new schedule does.”
Clara immediately objected.
“I am not following some ridiculous chart.”
“Then you can arrange your own room and your own vacation,” I said.
“You were invited without my agreement.
I will not be ordered around by an additional guest.”
Clara looked at Martin, waiting for him to overrule me.
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me more than any speech could have.
Clara saw it too.
“You are going to let your wife speak to me this way?”
Martin rubbed the back of his neck.
“She has a point about the list.”
“A point?” Clara repeated.
“I was helping her.”
