Chapter 5

The kid’s expression said, how old do you think I am, but Jimmy said, “Maybe later, but this is an in-the-ground recliner chair. Look.”

It was the first time Jimmy had ever really seemed interested in what he thought, so Brent eagerly looked over the sand piled alongside the four-foot-long ditch. It was deep and narrow at one end, sloped up to a level section, then slopped up again on an incline.

There appeared to be something that could have been a place to rest your head. Indeed, Brent thought, it’s a lounge chair-shaped hole. The kid had even added indentions on each side for armrests. Jimmy jumped in. “It’s nice and cool in here.”

“I’m sure,” Brent said, wishing he knew how to relate to Jimmy, but Maria only had her son for two weeks during the summer and one weekend a month, and during those times, Brent had done his best to be at work. He didn’t particularly like kids and was positive he never wanted any.

Jimmy climbed out of the hole and asked, “How come the waves are so small?”

Even though the kid was looking right at him, it still took Brent a few seconds to be sure he was supposed to answer. When he did, Jimmy nodded and asked more questions while Brent explained the shape of the shoreline and how waves formed.

Maybe they were finally making that connection Maria had been begging him to make for the past three years. It felt good to act like a father figure and not assume the worst about Jimmy, the way he always had.

Brent thought Jimmy was probably a drug-dealing gang member when he was at home in Mexico with his father, in whatever ghetto they lived in. The only thing Maria ever said about the boy’s father was, “He is not a good person. It was a horrible mistake.”

Brent had never cared as long as the boy didn’t make trouble for them, but if their relationship continued to improve, then Maria might expect him to try and get custody one day. That was never going to happen.

“Let’s go in the water,” Jimmy said.

Brent shook his head. “You guys go. I’m going to set up this umbrella and have a drink.”

“No phone calls,” Maria said.

Brent held up his hands. “No, search me, no phone, as promised. There isn’t even a signal here.”

“Good.” Maria grabbed a float, and Jimmy removed his shirt.

Maria’s son had always struck Brent as very tall for his age, but without his shirt on, Brent noticed bulging bands of muscles. The boy didn’t have gang tats as Brent had suspected, but he was extremely developed. Had he ever seen Jimmy without a shirt before today? No, Brent remembered, even in the pool yesterday, the kid had one on.

Who cares, Brent thought and watched his young, dark-skinned wife as she walked with her son over the brilliant white sand. The tiny bikini bottoms didn’t bother him when nobody else could stare at her incredible ass. Rich or not, at his age, Brent considered himself fortunate to have such a beautiful young woman to fuck.