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The children are playing out on the stretch of grass between the house and the beach. Their voices mix with the sounds of the waves crashing down, a strange muddle that is so strangely familiar that it barely registers for what it is, but when tuned into sounds almost birdlike - cawing and crowing tangled up in the water not unlike the beating of wings against air.
The girls are on the wide old wicker rocking bench they'd found last winter, now finally cleaned up and fixed, sitting pride of place by the back door where it leads out to the wrap-around porch. From down here she can't hear them, but they are laughing, leaned in close together and sharing a knit blanket despite the summer heat.
The boys are probably inside, but she hasn't checked. She came out here a few hours ago to get some space, and now everyone else has come tumbling out after her. She supposes she shouldn't have expected much less.
The water is cold against her skin, the salt a comfortable lick at the scratches on her arm. As much as she looks forward to Summer each year, the heat still gets to her. She plunges her head underneath, and breathes in the salty water. As her head breaks back through the waves, she notices how orange the sky is. It will be dinner soon, if it hasn't been already. They'll be worried if she isn't in before then.
Some of the kids call out to her as she walks in past them, but she brushes them aside with promises to join them later for a game of mermaids and sea monsters. The girls smile at her as she crosses the threshold, and don't even chide her for tracking in the salt water. She's not sure if that means she's late to dinner, or if everyone is just enjoying the day too much to let this spoil it.
There's music playing in the house, and the boys are in the kitchen, dancing. Cleaning up after dinner then, which means she was out too long. She bites back the urge to slip out of the house through the corridor and away from where anyone would see her, reminds herself that she is allowed to lose track of time.
Still, it would be rude to interrupt such a moment, and so she lingers at the edge of the living room, lets the pair have however long they need, and repeats quietly in her head that she is wanted here, and not an intrusion.
The pair dance far smoother than she would ever have guessed, which is perhaps foolish of her. They were both raised nobles, like she was, and to dance properly is key to such a lifestyle. It's entrancing to watch them, so clearly caught up in their romantic fantasy that the dishes have been left abandoned, and she finds herself taking a few steps forwards to lean against one of the couches, so she can watch them for longer. The song they're dancing to is familiar, something from the balls that taught her how to dance, and for a moment she can imagine them as they were before they all met, younger, less injured, fresher eyed.
She tells herself that's why she shrieks, breaking the moment utterly, when Thalia walks in and settles a hand on her shoulder. That she was only distracted, taken by surprise that anyone else existed in that moment at all. It would be cruel to admit to Thalia that when she had looked back at the touch, she had been sure it was a ghost with her hand settled there.
“Are you okay?” Thalia asks, face wrinkling with concern.
She nods, a hand over her mouth. Thalia offers her another worried look, but doesn't push further.
“I just came in to get Peg something hot to drink.”
And then she's slipping away, into the kitchen and around the boys, who are still caught up in each other, dancing a slow waltz as Thalia weaves around them. She stays standing in the living room while Thalia makes the mug of tea, steeps a bag and a stick of cinnamon in a delicate flower petal cup, and she tries not to focus on the pair dancing the whole while. So caught up that her scream didn't so much as shake them.
Thalia puts a hand on her arm as she leaves again, not saying anything and yet so clearly trying to offer some kind of out. Or maybe she's just reading into it too much.
And then she's alone, watching from across the room as the pair dance. She shouldn't be jealous.
She is.
But she keeps watching, as they slow dance through two more songs, and she white knuckles the couch. How lovely a day they must have had, that they could dance for so long without care for their chores, or that she's missed another meal, or that Thalia was weaving in around them.
When the music stops they don't part, not immediately. They stay pressed against one another, swaying gently in place. She considers casting a song just to see if they would fall back into it without question. She can't imagine them not.
Eventually they do pull away, drifting back into their places in the kitchen. They start to wash up again, and the quiet of before is slowly eased away by the sound of wet rags on metal, of teasing conversation, and of clattering plates. And she feels like she is less of an intrusion.
When she walks into the kitchen, Philly glances up at her. He looks a touch worried, but smiles, and gestures to the table behind her.
“There's still dinner for you, if you're hungry.” He says. She does not even need to bite back a retort.
She doesn't have the space for words right now, so nods instead, and turns to go and eat.
Caleb joins her at the table a few minutes later, as she slowly picks away at the tasteless meal. He doesn't say anything at first, just curls his ankle around hers. She bumps her shoulder into him, and swallows another bite.
“Did you have a good day?” He asks, once her plate is halfway empty.
She nods, grateful he doesn't need her to speak.
“Spend a while out in the water?” He asks, but he laughs a little at the question and twirls a lock of her still wet hair in his finger as he does so.
She ducks her head, looks away. He laughs more, and she leans further into him to feel the rumble of it.
Philly sits down opposite her, knocks his feet into hers. She glances up to smile at him, but tucks her face back away again right after. Her face feels flushed now, and neither man lets up on the way their bodies are all three touching.
She misses, a little, the way they all three used to fight. The thrill of it all. It's moments like these she wants it most of all. But she swallows another bite of tasteless food, and reminds herself that it’s the same part of her that wants to run away that's talking. A part she tries not to listen to anymore.
Neither man speaks any further as she works her way through the plate. The food is harder and harder to swallow, and she can't be sure if it's the being watched that does it, or if not eating sooner is making it so. Each new bite comes slower and slower. No one speaks a word.
There's still food on the plate when Philly pulls it away, and she can see him rolling his eyes as he turns away to wash it up. But he's smiling, so it must be fondness, not annoyance.
Caleb leans further into her space. It is one of those moments that she is reminded of how small she is. She may never feel good about that.
“Me and Philly are all done with our work for the day, and I think Peggy and Thalia have things covered with the kids for the rest of the night.” She swallows a little. “How about you?”
She closes her eyes. This is supposed to be romantic, she knows. Or sexy, at the very least. But she barely has space for words right now, let alone… whatever it is that Caleb is suggesting.
“I promised to play some mermaids and sea monsters tonight.” Her mouth is dry.
Caleb smiles, despite her rejection. “And will you be playing the role of the mermaid? Or perhaps directing the sea monster?”
“I will be the sea monster, thank you very much.”
“Oh, how scary,” says Caleb, voice laced with sarcasm, “however will the poor baby mermaids survive when attacked by the world's smallest sea monster?”
“With extreme violence.”
It's enough to startle a laugh out of him, and she bathes in the victory of managing to. She tells herself that this is proof he isn't mad at her for the diversion. She doesn't know if she believes it.
Caleb doesn't push for anything further, but he doesn't pull away any either. She counts her breaths and tries to keep them slow and even. This shouldn't be a stressful situation to be in.
Philly returns shortly after, sitting back down in his seat opposite her.
“Did you lose track of time today, Jer?” He asks.
She nods, feeling herself flush. It's embarrassing how much they both still baby her. It's embarrassing that she needs it. She should be perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
He offers her a sad smile, and the sense of humiliation only grows. It feels like the kids get treated with more agency than her sometimes.
But she can't even bring herself to yell at him about it, because she isn't even a little bit angry. She knows what she's like without the coddling. She needs it.
“I should go join the kids.” She croaks out. Caleb and Philly exchange a look. She slips out of Caleb's grip and walks out without looking back. It's easier that way.
Neither of them say anything further until she's out the door. Another one of the ways they baby her.
“Heading down to the water again?” Thalia asks.
The girls don't treat her quite the same as Philly and Caleb do. She wishes she had been closer with them, sometimes. But with Bella gone she struggles to spend much time with Tahlia, and Peggy rarely spends time outside anymore without her.
“I have been pledged to a game of mermaids and sea monsters” she replies.
Thalia smiles. “I didn't think you were strong enough to stay upright with three twelve year olds attacking you.”
“I'm not.” She says, trying to hold back her grin.
Thalia slaps her on the shoulder, and she takes that as her sign to head down to the water.
The kids are thrilled to see her, of course, and demands are made quickly for a sea monster. She obliges them without question, summoning a tentacle that curls out of the shallows. The children shriek and laugh and play-act terror for a moment before flinging themselves at it. She cries out in mock agony with each attack to the tentacle, and it only eggs them all on more.
As the tentacle retreats a minute later, the children turn, rushing at her now. She screams as they barrel into her, and then they are all one great big heap. She is buried beneath them all, one big pile of giggling and half-there attempts at attacks. For her own part, she simply lies still, letting the children do as they will. It’s easy.
Eventually they slowly leave the pile, returning to other games, some taking longer than others. Even as she remains the only one left, she still lies still, staring up at the sky. It is darkening, which means it must be terribly late, but no one has called the children in yet. She should care about that, but instead she stays there, lying still.
It’s fully dark when Caleb appears in the edge of her vision, looking down at her.
“Come to bed, Jerry.”
She hates this part. It must show on her face.
“We don’t have to do anything, idiot. Just come sleep.”
She scrunches up her face. She hates this part so very very much. Almost as much as she hates that she always gives in.
Caleb offers her a hand, and she takes it. He pulls her to her feet like it’s nothing. It probably is, to him. She feels wobbly on her feet, and doesn’t let him let go of her hand. She’s afraid she’ll fall if he does.
Caleb just smiles, the same sad, pitying smile he always does at this part, and walks her back into the house. She tenses a little as they step into the bedroom. Philly is reading, his arms both taken off and the book floating gently in front of him. He glances up and smiles at her as they enter.
She hates all of this, the pitiful looks she’s offered, the way she’s more babied than any of the children, the fact that she knows she needs all of it. She hates that she puts up with it because she wants this, and that it’s worth it.
“I could be sleeping out in the water, you know.” she says, crawling into the bed beside Philly.
“But you’re not.” says Caleb.
“Nothing stopping you.” says Philly.
And they’re right. She’d rather be out there, in the salt water, where she doesn’t feel suffocated. But every night she ends up here, and doesn’t even have nightmares every time.
Caleb changes, and joins them in the bed, and then she’s trapped. Philly puts his book down, and Caleb snuffs out the light, and all that’s left is sleep.
She lays awake much longer than either man, because even though this keeps happening she’s still no better at sleeping inside. She listens to their breathing, slow and steady, feels Caleb's hot breath against her skin and Philly shifting and turning every so often.
And eventually sleep comes. She must have nightmares, because she wakes in darkness, hot and sweaty and terrified, but Caleb puts a hand on her shoulder, and says something she doesn’t follow but in a voice which is kind and familiar, and she manages to sleep again.
When next she wakes, it is daytime, and she is not so very afraid.