Upgrade

Fuck. This is our vacation?? We’ve been here for three days and these three just keep sitting in the sun.

The stout man in an orange shirt, which hugged tightly against his round belly, stood with his hands on his hips, silently surveying his company. His wife, daughter, and son, stood in a triad, hovering over an iPhone.

He hoped that they were navigating to their next destination, but he knew from experience that the enticing lure of TikTok, or Instagram, or god forbid, Words with Friends, had their full attention.

Their phone was their preferred company, and he felt his anger harden into resentment as he imagined returning home to Boston, where winter still prevailed, snow and icy streets penning them in at home.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed, turning on his heels and walking clear over the ledge that stood erect behind them. The drop was 15 feet, onto the sand of Pacific Beach, but he did not mind the descent. He did not think of it, to be truthful, until the impact folded his body in two, knees bending and arms splaying out sideways. His breath caught in his chest before he recognized he was okay. He shook, partly out of fear, and partly just to check that his limbs were still working. He was relieved to find that he could feel and move each of them.

He turned to find the waves rolled and lapped at the edge of the white sand beach like an eager toddler licking a popsicle. He paused, stunned by the sudden expansive beauty, and for a moment, simply forgot what had prompted his unexpected escape.

“Daaaaddd??” he heard from above, craning his neck upward, to see the three faces that he’d thought might be eternally illuminated by their screens, now shining down on him in full sunlight instead.

His daughter Allison’s voice was urgent, inquisitive, and she disappeared from his view as she sprinted down the sidewalk to the nearest stairwell.

His son, with a proclivity for cowardice, gingerly lifted his torso over the thick concrete railing only to change his mind, pulling himself back out of sight.

“Dad?” he heard again, his daughter’s approaching steps like a light drumbeat against the firm beach sand. He looked at her, squarely, still harboring frustration and confusion by their absence and his predicament.

She threw her arms around him before he could respond. “Hey, dad. I’m glad we’re here….You ok?” she spoke just above a whisper, her voice firm, emanating right into his ear to avoid the words being carried away by the wind.

“I’m good, Ally”, he said. He was still a little shaky from the fall. “I just wish…I wish we were here together. I’ve waited my whole life to see this…this shoreline, and now….”

His voice cracked as the weight in his chest shifted forward moving with it the trials of the last five years: COVID, the lost job, the car accident, Max’s addiction.

He pulled away to hide the tears that welled up somewhere behind his eyes.

Allison silently reached out her hand, placing it around his pudgy fingers without a word, or inkling of judgment, and they walked in silence to the water’s edge. Neither of them flinched as the icy water rushed over their sandals, submerging their toes. The warmth between them was palpable, protective.

As the ocean danced forward and back, keeping time, they simply stood: there together.