Surrender

“How did your lesson go yesterday?” Mom asked, turning her sunglasses toward me. The two of us were sprawled out on the beach, trying to get a bit of a tan, both of us with daiquiris resting by our stomachs. Mine had been bought by my mother, of course, but she was very adamant about getting me used to alcohol so I wouldn’t feel the need to abuse it, so I’d been having wine and fruity drinks here and there since I was about fifteen. My father had taken some convincing about the deal, but he finally caved and had stopped caring a while ago. “You barely mentioned it yesterday.”

I shrugged, although the effect was not as great lying down. “It was okay. He was surprised that I was young, but he adjusted, and then he taught me how to waltz.”

“Mmm, I probably should have figured he’d go with the waltz. It’s the easiest dance to learn, I think.” She took a sip of her drink and shimmied a little bit, getting more comfortable. “But what, did he think I sounded like an old lady or something?”

“No, no! The majority of his clients are middle-aged because they think learning to dance is romantic and stuff, like in Dirty Dancing.”

Mom mulled this over for a second. “Did he look like Patrick Swayze at all?”

“Mom!” I felt my cheeks flush a little. “No, not at all.”

“Was he cute, though?”

I sighed. “Yeah, he was really cute.”

Thankfully, she left the conversation at that, groaning before throwing an arm over her forehead. “I can’t believe your father is doing his own thing again today. We could have gone into town this weekend or something, but he couldn’t even wait for us.”

I clucked understandingly, though I wasn’t about to rush to badmouth my father. In my thoughts, I tended to side with my mother much more often than my father, but I never wanted to voice my opinions out loud in case I alienated him and destroyed our relationship permanently. I knew my mother would never tell him normally, but there was no telling what could escape her mouth in the heat of an argument.

“God, he’s such a woman when it comes to shopping. I don’t have half as many jeans as he has. I wish.”

I was starting to feel uncomfortable with her ranting, as I did the few times she’d gotten carried away with complaining about Dad in front of me, a feeling that was amplified by the sexist addition. I had a feeling her tongue was getting a little loose with some help from the alcohol, so I decided to change the subject. “Do you want me to go grab us some food?”

Mom leaned up so she could look at her thin stomach over her fairly ample breasts. “Yeah, sure. But try not to make it anything too fattening, okay? I don’t need your father getting on my back about gaining weight.”

If there was one thing my father didn’t do, it was hound my mother about her weight. When I was in middle school, she went through a period of time where she was about fifty pounds overweight, and I had a feeling that was when they were their happiest. I was very secure in the fact that he only saw himself as chubby, while my mother and I could weigh whatever we wanted, and he would still think we were beautiful.

“I’m going to get you a big, greasy burger with everything on it,” I assured her with a grin as I got to my feet, brushing scratchy sand off my legs and the back of my fifties-inspired one piece. But if I was honest with myself, I’d probably try to find her a turkey sandwich or something, just to keep her from whining at me.

The sand shifted under my feet as I made my way up the boardwalk to the concession stand. Although I had fully expected just a whole bunch of calorie-rich food, like burgers and hot dogs and nachos, this stand, true to its Southern California location, sold some vegetarian and vegan options, as well. After mulling over the menu for a while, which was certainly extensive, I decided on a veggie burger with everything on it for me with a side of baked fries and a turkey and avocado sandwich on wheat bread and apple chips for my mom.

“$12.32,” the tall, burly guy behind the counter told me gruffly, turning the display toward me so I could see he was telling the truth.

It took me a second to pull the ten and three ones out of my clutch, which I handed over with what I hoped was a bright smile. Then, after he gave my change and turned his back, I slipped the few coins into a plastic container labeled “HOLLYWOOD FUND: Help me achieve my dreams of being the next hot Hollywood starlet.”

I giggled to myself, just in time for someone to say, “Hey, that was nice of you.”

Startled, I snapped my head around to see Liam walking toward me, all smiles once again. He was wearing a similar tank top to the one he’d worn the day before, with the resort name and logo on it, but this one was white instead of gray, and he’d paired it with some dark-wash jean shorts.

“Um, what was nice of me?” I replied, knitting my eyebrows together.

“Putting some money in Joe’s tip jar.” He leaned closer to me, as if he were letting me in on a deep, dark secret. “He may look like he’s ready to step on your throat, but he’s really a teddy bear.”

“Veggie burger and turkey avocado,” Joe announced in a rough monotone voice, slapping a bag onto the counter. I went to grab it, which got me a, “Have a nice day” and what sounded like a snort.

I went back to Liam, giving him a small smile. “I’ll just have to take your word for that.”

“So are you hanging out on the beach? Catching some skin cancer?”

“Yeah. With my mom,” I added.

He nodded. “Very cool. Hey, I noticed that you didn’t schedule your next lesson! I’m serious, I want you to come back. I’m desperate to talk to someone my own age for once.”

“You could talk to yourself,” I offered, feeling my insides smile. I liked how he made me feel comfortable enough to crack jokes in front of him, even if they were pretty weak. If we kept bumping into each other, then I knew my wit would warm up eventually.

“Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m terrible company for myself; the conversations are so one-sided.”

“You don’t say.”

He grinned at me before taking a couple of steps backward. “Look, I gotta get some iced coffee before my next lesson, but I’ll see you for your next appointment. Please call me.”

“I-” I wanted to explain that, while I had enjoyed my first lesson with him, I had no interest in returning because I wanted to quit while I was ahead, and the last thing I wanted was to go back and try to do more complicated moves, only to show him that I was an embarrassment. But he slipped away before I could, hurrying into the café without another backward glance.

I sighed as I eyed the food in the bag in front of me, making my stomach growl. “C’mon, bud,” I whispered to it before dropping it down against my side and heading back to where my mother was waiting.

Her dyed black hair was shining in the sunlight, contrasting nicely with her on-the-pale-side skin. She had put her sunglasses back on since I’d left, but before I could ask her why, she heard me approaching and exclaimed, “Thank GOD you’re back. I’m starving.”

I dropped my butt onto my towel and handed over the bag, explaining the difference between what I’d gotten for each of us. But I wasn’t the least bit surprised when I looked over and saw her popping one of my fries into her mouth.

“These are actually really good for being baked,” she informed me, handing over the bag. “Do you want one?”

“Of course I want one! They’re mine.” The second she pulled her out her apple chips, which were packaged in a green hologram material that caught the sunlight just right and nearly blinded me, I snatched the paper bag out of her hands before she could steal another fry. “You asked for something healthy, and that’s what you got.”

She unwrapped her sandwich and sighed in content. “I do love my avocado.”

“You’re welcome.”

We were silent as we ate, taking in the scene around us. There was a group of younger kids, maybe seven or so, splashing in the water in front of us, screaming, “MARCO! POLO!” and screeching when they were tagged. I could tell some of the people littering the beach, especially an elderly couple that were positioned about ten feet away from us, were starting to get annoyed, but I thought they were cute.

I was snapped out of watching them by the sounds of my mother struggling to open her apple chips. “God dammit,” she groaned, repositioning the bag and yanking so hard that her forehead flushed red. “How do you open this thing?”

Without a word, I plucked it from her hand and, following the arrow, tore a slit on the side. “There.”

“Oh.” Her eyes wandered down to the empty daiquiri cup next to her and laughed. “Maybe I should get a bottle of water. I might have had one too many fun drinks.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.”

I watched carefully as she got to her feet, brushing sand off the back of her legs. “I’ll be right back,” she assured me before heading for the vender maneuvering around the tanning people, lugging around a cooler and yelling about water bottles for a dollar.

I chewed carefully, silently thanking God that my burger was actually tasty, and watched my mother buy the water, chatting with the vender as he searched for one of the coldest bottles at the bottom of the cooler. She laughed at something, but then he said something else, flipping his blonde hair out of his face, that made her stiffen uncomfortably.

The rest of the exchange was short, and I could see his blush from where I was sitting. It took all of my self-control not to laugh when my mother wandered back over to her towel, spinning her engagement and wedding rings around on her finger.

“Did he hit on you?” I asked, not able to keep the humor completely out of my voice.

She nodded. “Yeah. I just told him I was married and that he was my daughter’s age, anyway. I don’t know what he was thinking.” She took a small sip of the water, but I could tell that, although she thought the exchange was awkward, she was also sort of flattered.

“You know, cougars are in now,” I informed her passively, finishing off the rest of my burger and licking a spot of ketchup off my thumb. “Teenage guys all want to have sex with a woman their mother’s age.”

Mom gave me a horrified look. “That’s disgusting.”

I shrugged. “Whatever makes everyone happy, I guess.”

She let out a breath and took a bite of her sandwich. “This turkey is incredible. And it’s real turkey. Like Thanksgiving turkey, not cold cut turkey,” she elaborated, noticing my lost expression.

I made a noise of acknowledgement as I adjusted the strap of my bathing suit, which had twisted when I’d leaned back on my hands. To break the silence, Mom launched into a story about a man at work who always smelled like the beach somehow, and I listened, but I couldn’t help but feel awful about how I had decided the vacation would be terrible before it had even started. Because I actually liked spending time with my mom.

“Oh, shit,” she grumbled, wiping a smudge of avocado off her leg. “This thing is falling apart.”

I handed her a napkin and laughed. The summer definitely wasn’t going to be as bad as I’d originally thought, even if Dad never spent any time with us.