San Diego is curling in on itself like a Southern cat around her kittens. She purrs on the porch, a dog barks in the distance, bugs hizz and floss through flowers and children. The heat knits and purls, knits and purls, I am a salt lick for husband. The air throbs, an atmospheric heartbeat.
After work, Mr. Curry shuts the bedroom door softly and watches the kids while I stretch out
from head to toe, Lola's stuffed dog on my belly. I close my eyes and drown in sleep, heat, the happiness and joy of my family's voices within my reach, murmuring and cracking throughout the house. I fall asleep to the sound of Lola's voice ' Dadddyyyy! '
A half hour later I wake, bleary eyed and stumbling. I pull on my polka dotted bikini and Mr. Curry ties it in a knot in the back, because the plastic clasp has broken and I don't have time or inclination to run down the street to Target and buy a new one. For one night, this will do. It is almost 7pm. Lola and Dakota smell like sunblock, this is how hot the sun is. We leave the front door wide open to air the house out, because Bellatrix and Weasley peed in the corner. Again. Mr. Curry slides his hand up my dress and thigh and we drive in silence to the community pool, barely a ten minute drive.
The pool is enormous, one area for children at 4 feet, a large free area, laps roped off for exercise, and another, deeper area on the far side with the diving boards. We pay the 2$ per person and slide gratefully into the lukewarm water. Birds dart overhead. There are a small handful of people for all this wide water. My family all swims to the middle of the large free area. This is possible because our Lola Moon, the baby of the family at 7, just learned how to swim LAST WEEK. We are so proud of her, so excited to see her wiggling and turning in the water like a big girl. The four of us bob and float in a square, grinning stupidly at each other. The young life gaurd watches us with a look on his face like he is thinking maybe one day, he will have such a thing as a family of his own. Watching us to see what it's like. The sky is enormous and unhurt by buildings, open and clear and blue. The air breaks as Michael Jackson's ' Billie Jean ' pulses from the loudspeakers. Mr. Curry begins to dance in the water. I slide my legs around him. Lola and Dakota pile on. We don't have Ian this day. We all swim through the music and the evening begins to set on the water and the light is beautiful and I slip into the embrace of the blue blue water and swim like a mermaid underneath the kicking feet of the most beautiful people in this world.