This is the 72nd installment of a 100-day challenge to write a new vignette every morning.
He learned the important lesson that a picnic at the beach on a windy day is a bad idea.
At first, their billowing umbrella was picturesque, and the breeze counteracted the sweltering sun. They could lean back and enjoy themselves—for a moment. Ian felt the sun on his skin and took a deep breath for the first time in weeks.
When the wind began to grab and fold the edge of their blanket, they weighted it down with cans of cola and tubs of macaroni salad. This temporary solution bought them time to unwrap their sandwiches, at least. The kids didn’t complain that he’d forgotten to cut the crust off, and the disproportionate surge of gratitude Ian felt nearly made him weep. He took a swig of cola instead. He’d promised himself today would be light—breezy.
Then the wind snatched a bag of chips from his son’s hands and yanked his daughter’s ball cap right off her head. The kids took off after the items, and Ian cursed to himself as he pinned down bags of crackers and cheese.
By the time Ian looked up at his kids, they’d made it halfway down the beach. They slipped and slid in the sand. Their arms pinwheeled. They grabbed each other to steady themselves—or push the other down, more likely. As he watched fits of laughter force them to give up chase, Ian smiled, too, and thought maybe he could do this on his own after all. Maybe he could be enough for them.
Miles Away 