8.8: Family and Sacrifice

   Our, mine and Maya's, third wedding anniversary was today and we had decided to celebrate by taking our adorable little two year old Phoebe to the beach.. It was a warm, summer day and the beach was almost completely empty; only the soothing sounds of waves, aggravating gull squawks, and the sound of a mother calling for her children to come because it was time to leave were there to greet our ears.

   "Harbor, I was thinking..." Maya began, holding Phoebe with her right arm.
   "What, honey?"
   "Well, I just-"
   "Mama, daddy I wanna play!" Phoebe let out a high pitched gurgle of words.
   "Daddy and mama are talking." I said to her. "We play soon, okay?"
   "Soon, now." She said, looking up at me with her mint green eyes.
   "We can talk later." Maya shrugged, pulling off her cover up to reveal her red and white polka dotted bikini top.

   "Yay! Zoom, zoom!" Phoebe exclaimed, as Maya gently dipped her toes in the water, as our little darling clapped.
   "You having fun?" I asked, as I splashed Maya a little.
   "Brr, Harbor that's cold."
   "You were looking so hot, I figured you'd need something to help you cool off, before the beach caught on fire from your flaming looks." I winked at her, as she blushed crimson.
   "Oh, stop it." She playfully pushed water back at me, while Phoebe stared intently at her pinkie toe. She dipped it in the water, pulled it  out, dipped it back in, and so fourth.
   "My toe wrinkly." She said, trying to grab a hold of it. "I don't like wrinkly toe."
   "It's okay, Phoebe, your toe is wrinkly because of the water. It'll stop once you dry off a bit." Maya said.
   "Me don't like it. It weird."

   "It is just because of the water, your toe is okay."
   "Nah, nah! Toe weird." She crossed her arms, shunning the wrinkly toe. I sighed. Only my daughter, the child of an ex-mermaid, who we all expected to absolutely love the water, would be upset over something as trivial as a wrinkled pinky toe.
   "Harbor, I'm feeling a little hot, I think I'm going to relax under our umbrella and try to cool off, okay?"
   "See, I knew you were way too attractive for this beach to handle."
   "That makes no sense..." She laughed. "Good thing you're pretty. Here, take Phoebe. Mama's gonna rest." 
  "Wanna come to daddy?" I asked her.
  "Yeah! Mama bye bye." She waved to Maya, who slowly waded out of the ocean's waves, to the sandy shores.

   "Do you like the water?" I asked her.
   "Yeah, daddy. I wanna go build sandcastle, like them peoples."
   "Alright." I smiled. She'd never built a sandcastle before; today was going to be a day of firsts for her. She held onto my shoulder, as I waded over towards Maya. She was laying on a towel, reading a novel, the stereo blasting lullaby versions of AC/DC hits
   "Whatchya reading?"
   "Toddler Terrors: Getting Through the Troublesome Threes."
   "You don't think Phoebe will be a terrible, troublesome three year old, do you?" I chuckled, taken aback by how casually she could name off what sounded like the title of a memoir written by Satan's mother.
   "Well..." Maya glanced at Phoebe, who was pushing sand into a pile. "Toddler Terrors: The Tale of the Big Twos was pretty funny, plus the author was pregnant with her second and there is this section of artwork done by the three year old who is completely enraged by the idea of having to share a room. I don't think Phoe will be horrible, I just appreciate the laughs."
   "Yay! We done with castle." She stab a stick into the top, then looked at the masterpiece she had created. "Mama, what do ya think?"
   "I love it! So creative." Maya gushed.
   "Daddy helps me."
   "You and daddy did a great job."

   "Thank ya."
   "You're welcome. Oh, honey don't stick your hands in your mouth, they're dirty."
   "I'm hungry."
   "Oh you are? Harbor, did we bring snacks?"
   "I don't think so." I said, grabbing the beach bag. "I have a water bottle, but no goldfish or apple slices or anything."

   "Hm..." Maya stood up, lifting Phoebe into the air. "What do ya want to eat?"
   "Fruit."
   "Healthy. What kind of fruit?"
   "Apple."
   "Apple... Honey, could we go to the community gardens? It is about a quarter of a mile and has an on your honor program, a quarter equals a piece of fruit."
   "Okay." I said, slipping on my white tank top as Maya slipped back into her coverup. I packed up the umbrella, towel, and stereo and we were on our way.

    The garden was surrounded by a wooden fence and shining blue metal gate, generously donated by two local craftsmen. The garden was tended to by community members and seeds and saplings were bought by the local school from the hardware and outdoor care shop with money raised by their bake sales and car washes. It was quite lovely to have something created by the community for the community. You could easily help out, even if you had no gardening or handiness skills, by stopping by and exchanging your spare change for a delicious produce item that was organic and had no pesticides or chemicals sprayed on.

   "Here ya go." I said, handing Phoebe the apple I had just picked from the ripe tree.
   "Thank you, daddy."
   "You're welcome." I smiled, knowing that while I was helping keeping the beaches of Isla Paradiso safe, Maya was being a wonderful, nurturing mum. Speaking of Maya and motherhood, "Oh, yeah. what were you going to say at the beach?"
   "Here, sit next to me." She said, patting a spot on the concrete bench. I obeyed and sat, wondering if this is what the dog I never had as a child would have felt like.
   "What's up?"
   "Isn't Phoebe adorable?"
   "Just like her mother."
   "Oh... I'm not adorable." She laughed. "Her daddy is, though." She paused for a moment, looking from Phoebe to me and back again. "I was thinking... you know how I'm reading about how badly a toddler reacts to the fact that they're getting a younger sibling?" She didn't wait for a response. "I think Phoebe is the perfect age where she'd respond well."
   "Ar-are you pregnant?"

   "No... I want another child, though. Nine months from now, Phoebe will be a month over three. It is a good age gap, she'd be old enough so it isn't like we're constantly changing diapers, but young enough that she would still play with the kid... Harbor, will you have another baby with me?"
   "I-I mean, I'd like to have another child, Maya, but are we ready? The houseboat, my job..."
   "We'd have to get another house anyways, one bedroom won't work much longer. And I'd like for you to change your job."
   "I love my job!" I gasped. Maya knew I loved helping people and the beach; life guarding was the perfect combination of these things. Besides, with my lack of a college degree I doubted I'd seem like a great candidate for any position that made lots of money. I would do so much for her, but quit my job?
   "I know you do. it doesn't make lots though and it is dangerous. With two children, you can't really be risking your life for so little."
   "What could I do then?"
   "You've been a model employee, I'm sure they could find you a desk job within the city or something. Please? For me and Phoebe?"
   "I haven't even... it will make  you happy?" I was conflicted. I knew Maya wanted me to be happy, just like how I wanted her to be, but her maternal instincts told her that I was being unsafe and she was going to want to change that. "Okay."
   "Okay? As in yes to the job, yes to another baby, yes to a new house? A real house?"
   "Yes..." I sighed, looking at my blonde toddler who was gnawing on the apple I'd given her. It was a sacrifice, giving up the houseboat, quitting work, but it was the best for the family. I guess I wanted Phoebe to grow up knowing her daddy was safe and mommy was happy. "Let's do it all. The child, the house, the whole nine yards."
   "Yay! Thank you, thank you so much. Harbor we're going to have a perfect little family, this picture perfect family, don't you see? Your office job, the house, everything." She smiled, leaning forwards for a kiss. She was so ecstatic because I had said what she wanted to hear, she didn't realize what wasn't being said. The reluctance, the forced smile. Ignored because of three letters: Y, E, and S.