Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Ugh.” I made an undignified noise.
“Walking on wet sand is easier.” He stepped closer to the ocean’s edge, and I followed, only to leap back as cool water touched my sandals.
“The water’s coming for me,” I yelped.
“Here, hold my hand.” Merry used a patient tone as he held out a hand. “Don’t want you drowning on my watch.”
“I won’t.” I meant that literally, but I instinctively knew he would never intentionally hurt me or let harm come to me.
“Dad! Mr. Bell!” The twins raced across the sand, followed by an older version of Merry with white streaks in his blond hair and more wrinkles on his tanned skin.
“Nolan, this is my dad, Ari.” Merry made the introductions.
“Welcome!” Ari had a big, booming voice. Where Merry was long and lean, his father had more of a barrel chest and broader torso, but they had the same mischievous grins as the twins and the same captivating eyes. “Are we going to get you on a board?”
“I doubt it.” Merry cast a skeptical eye over me. “A boogie board, maybe?”
“I’m happy to just be a spectator,” I said brightly.
“Okay, you watch us. You too, Dad.” The boys dashed after their grandfather, picking up surfboards and paddling out into the ocean farther than I would have thought feasible.
“Wow. This is incredible. Look at them swim.” And if I thought the feat of swimming was remarkable, the boys and their grandfather actually stood up on the boards, catching a wave and riding back toward us. “And surf!”
“You’re almost more fun to watch than the boys.” Merry chuckled.
It hadn’t escaped my notice that despite the fact that we were now seated on the sand, a safe distance from the edge of the ocean, he continued to hold my hand. His hand was warm and solid against mine, giving me a cozy feeling that started in my stomach and radiated outwards.
After the boys did a few more rounds, the twins rushed back toward us, wet, sandy, and happy with broad grins.
“Can we show Mr. Bell Pop-Pop’s house?” Ryder’s chin jutted out like he was prepared to beg.
“That’s the plan.” Merry tussled Ryder’s hair.
“And you can call me Nolan when we’re not at school,” I added.
“Cool.” Ryder’s eyes went wide, evidently liking this privilege. “I’m riding with you and Mr.—Nolan.”
“Okay.” Merry took charge of the boys’ boards as we all made our way back to the parking lot. Merry’s dad and Legend loaded into a battered Jeep while Ryder rode with us and Barney.
Merry’s parents lived right off the main road, behind their Silver Surfer shop. The shop looked older than the house beyond it, perhaps 1960s in origin, but both appeared to have been added onto in random decades in haphazard ways. The property had a certain rustic charm. The side of the surf shop had a huge mural of a grandfather-aged person surfing, while the house was pale blue with white trim. Rather than the vague Mediterranean styling of Cara and Craig’s subdivision, the overall aesthetic could best be described as simple and beachy. Towels and swimsuits hung from a line in the yard that was more sand than plant life. Various yard ornaments in bright colors added to the eclectic vibe.
“Merry! Introduce me to your teacher friend!” A woman with a long gray braid with auburn streaks, wearing a hibiscus print apron over a swimsuit and cutoff shorts, came onto the porch.
“Geez, Mom. Give us a minute to get out of the car.” Merry gave a good-natured laugh before making a fresh round of introductions, complete with hugs from his mother.
“I heard you like pie.” Merry’s mom, Sharon, ushered us into her kitchen. Like the house, it reflected different time periods between mismatched appliances and counters, but there was an overall hominess I dug. And beyond the kitchen was a living room with not one but two indoor hammocks.
“I shouldn’t have told her you love pie because she made more today.” Merry shook his head fondly. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“I could eat,” I said gamely.
“Excellent.” An older man with snow-white hair leaning on a green cane with a parrot on top strode into the room. Despite not looking much older than Merry’s father and having the firm handshake of a much younger man, he was introduced as the grandfather of the family. He had a mischievous grin identical to the one Legend used. “You can call me Grandpa. I could eat too.”
Several pieces of lemon meringue, key lime, and pineapple chiffon later, I was stuffed to the gills. However, the boys dragged me for a long walk through the neighborhood, which was a mix of housing and stores, and down to the beach. The more I saw, the more I liked this little community. It was an entirely different feeling than I was used to, almost like landing on a different planet compared to Manhattan, but I liked it.