Jonathan Rabb - The Book of Q

“Do that again,” Ivo chortled after he’d wiped the water from his eyes.

“Time to get Mommy,” said Pearse. He turned and began charging out of the water. The look on Petra’s face was almost too perfect. A moment of panic, then utter capitulation. Ivo was cheering.

Pearse drew up to her, arms outstretched, ready to hoist her onto his back. Instead, he slowly straightened up and wrapped his arms around her, the heat from her body pressed against his chest.

She held his gaze for a moment, then kissed him.

“You still don’t look like a priest,” she said.

“I’m not anticipating that’s going to be much of a problem anymore.”

She smiled.

“Have you told your family?” she asked.

“They knew the moment I stepped off the plane.” He suddenly picked her up and began to walk toward the water.

“No, Ian. No. Come on. The doctor said I can’t go into the water-”

“Until today. That’s what he said.”

He was up to his knees, Ivo now at his side.

“Boy, you’re going to get it, Mommy.” He giggled.

Pearse whispered in her ear. “Or we could wait for the midnight swim?”

“Yes, we could,” she whispered back.

He gently kissed her, then placed her feet in the water. A moment later, he was after Ivo again.

“So I’m going to get Mommy, am I?”

Ivo howled as he tried to escape. But to no avail.

As one, they fell into the water. Pearse grabbed him and pulled him tightly to his chest. They floated there, heads bobbing together.

Far from insignificant in a seemingly empty sea.