***
Alice and her husband took two loungers directly across from us, close enough for me to hear her sigh like she had been forced into hardship because someone else had followed the rules.
Lucy sat quietly, her camera in her lap.
“Mom?” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
“Why did she do that?”
Alice and her husband took two loungers directly across from us.
I looked at the stain spreading across her towel.
“Because some people think being unhappy gives them permission to be unkind.”
Lucy considered that.
“That’s unfair.”
I almost laughed.
“Yeah, baby. It is.”
“That’s unfair.”
***
Across from us, Alice adjusted her sunglasses and pretended not to notice anyone looking.
Her husband set down the drinks and finally removed his oversized sunglasses.
Lucy froze.
Recognition lit her whole face.
“Hey!” she said brightly. “I know you!”
The man turned.
Alice looked over, irritated.
“I know you!”
Lucy dug through her little backpack, pushing aside sunscreen, a wet hairbrush, and three tiny photos she had already taken that morning.
“I have a picture of you,” she said proudly.
The man’s polite smile faltered.
“Of me?”
“Yeah. See? I took this outside school last Wednesday.”
She held up the tiny photograph.
“I have a picture of you.”
I leaned closer.
The picture showed him kneeling outside Lucy’s elementary school beside a little boy with a backpack almost bigger than his body. A woman with an ID badge stood nearby. He was holding a napkin in one hand and tying the boy’s shoe with the other.
Alice snatched the photo before I could react.
She stared at it.
Her face drained of color.
The picture showed him kneeling outside Lucy’s elementary school.
“Robert,” she whispered. “Who is she?”
Robert looked at the photo.
Then at Lucy.
Then back at the photo.
“School?” he said, almost to himself.
Lucy nodded eagerly.
“You cut strawberries into hearts.”
“Who is she?”
***
The pool seemed to quiet around us.
I frowned.
“What?”
Lucy bounced on her toes.
