Not Canon (maybe).
2022, Summer
Jane Monreau stepped out of her air conditioned Escalade, while the kids in the back clamored to get released from their seats. Some of the stay-at-home parents of Flux-Carson had decided to get together today for a beach outing. Jane had put together the group, mostly spouses of managers, VP’s, and above.
To allow for some diversity, she invited the same-sex partner of Craig’s personal assistant. They had two children, probably adopted from some foreign country. She smiled at her own three children, 4, 7, and 9. She got them unbuckled, and they kept close to her as she gathered the towels and sand umbrella.
She heard the roar of a motorcycle, and turned in disgust to see a man riding up to a parking spot near her. In the side car were two kids, about her children’s ages. The driver of the bike had long blond hair tied back with a leather thong. He didn’t wear a helmet but wore sun glasses and a black jacket; the children had helmets at least. She stared, horrified that someone would ride a motorcycle with two kids.
The man cut the engine of the bike. She turned her attention back to passing out towels to the children in their bathing suits. She glanced back to see that the bike rider was stripping his children of their motorcycle gear, and underneath they wore their bathing suits. One child, a boy, had short white hair and helped his sister, who had long red hair in a braid. The girl turned around, and her hair was down past her lower back. Jane’s attention was brought back to her own kids, who had run out through the salt marshes onto the beach proper.
Jane smiled at seeing some of the spouses on the private beach, and gathered near them. She set up her umbrella next to Linda Parella a VP’s wife. Linda had her baby daughter, Lynn, who she kept close to her and constantly slathered sunscreen on her.
Jane saw the man come onto the beach, carrying a large cooler and a pile of towels and a tote bag. He didn’t have an umbrella. He gravitated toward them.
“Excuse me,” he said, “You guys’re Flux-Carson people?”
Linda gave him a cool look at being interrupted in her story of the joys of breastfeeding. “Yes, why?”
“Cool,” he said, and plopped down the cooler next to Jane. He set out the towels while the two women watched him. He wore a white t-shirt that accented his moving muscles, and the kids had white t-shirts on that were probably his own, being that they were large on them. The white haired boy looked around 9 or 10, the little girl around 5 or 6.
“Okay, guys, sunscreen time.”
The man took off his shirt, and the boy helped his sister out of the large shirt she wore before taking off his own. All of them were tanned already, as if they went out all the time. Jane half-listened to Linda as she watched the man put sunscreen on the children. “Roland, watch y’r sister, make sure she doesn’t go too far out.”
“Okay, dad,” he said.
“Seph, pay attention to your brother and the adults, out there, okay?”
She nodded, then looked uncertainly at the water.
“Y’ don’t have t’ go swimmin’ if y’ don’ want to.”
“I’ll stay with you.”
The man smiled, “Okay, honey.” He turned to Roland. “Off ya go.”
Roland laughed and tore off down the beach. Seph went in the tote bag and pulled out a book, handing it to her father. Jane watched her kids while Linda fussed over the baby. Roland had gone to play with Geoffrey, her oldest. “I don’t seem to know you,” said Linda, blunt and cold as usual, befitting her station as the VP’s wife.
“I’m Knight,” he said. “You must be Jane.”
Jane raised her eyebrows. Linda said, “No, I’m afraid I’m not. This – ” she motioned dismissively to Jane – “is Ms. Monreau.”
“You must be Mr. King.”
“Knight,” he said, and held out his hand. Jane let him shake hers. Though a big man, he had a gentle handshake. “Jus’ call me Knight.”
“All right,” she said, and her daughter came running up to them. “Mommy, mommy, I saw a fishie!”
“You did?!” Jane acted excited. She took out the sunscreen and put more on her daughter. “Bethie, why don’t you ask the little girl over there to play with you?”
Bethie turned to look at the little girl sitting with the book. “Okay. You know how to swim?”
Seph looked up at her father. “Do I know how to swim, daddy?”
“Yes, you do, honey,” he said. Jane blinked – how could the little girl not know if she could swim? Maybe she was a special needs child. “Go on, go play with her.”
Bethie walked over to Seph. “What’s your name?”
“Persephone,” she said clearly, setting aside the book and getting up.
“I’m Bethie! I’m named after my grandmother.”
“I’m named after my daddy’s goddess.”
“Goddess?”
Jane decided to head this off at the pass, while Linda stared in shock at Seph. “Bethie, go show her how to build a sandcastle.”
Thank heaven for short attention spans. Bethie grabbed Seph’s hand and pulled her toward the water line. Jane looked out and saw that her boy was in the water, and Roland was far out. “Your son,” Jane said, pointing.
“Yeah, he’s part fish,” Knight said. He stood up and called, “Roland, come in some.”
The boy ducked his head into the water. Jane watched as he came back up, about a few feet from shore. Geoffrey was swimming out, trying to go further and further. “Geoffrey!”
Then he ducked under the waves. Jane waited, but he didn’t come up. “Goeffrey!” she screamed.
Because it was a private beach, there were no lifeguards. Knight got up and ran down the beach. Roland was coming in, and his father flew past him, running into the water and diving in.
In a moment, he came back up, sputtering, and dove down again. Then Jane could hear her son screaming. He was out too far, and being pulled out further. Jane got up and ran, while Knight swam out to the boy. Geoffrey flailed in the man’s arms, but the man held him tight and started swimming back toward the shore. It seemed to take forever, and Jane, forgetting that she was in pants, her espadrilles, her light cotton blouse, ran out into the water. Knight rose from the waves, chest heaving, her boy limp in his arms.
“Geoffrey!” Jane put her hand to her mouth and reached for him, but Knight walked by her to the shore and set him down gently. He pushed on his stomach, and he heaved, throwing up bracken water. He leaned to the side, coughing and retching, while his mother, seemingly helpless, stared at the scene.
“Wha’ th’ fuck you doin’, kid?” Knight said as the boy regained his composure. Jane bent down and hugged Geoffrey as Knight pushed himself to his feet. The group of kids and three other parents stared down at the scene.
“Rolly went -” he coughed, “Out real far and I – ” he coughed again, “wanted to–“
Knight said, ” ‘Rolly’ ‘s been swimmin’ all his life. He knew not t’ get in th’ undertow.” He glanced around and saw Roland building a small mound of sand, watching it get washed away with the tide. “Rolly. The fuck where tha’ came from?”
“Watch your language,” snapped one of the other women.
Knight’s head jerked up and he glared at the woman. “Roland? Seph?”
The two children appeared next to him, as if by magic. Jane was only half-aware as the man put each of his hands on their shoulders. “Let’s go.”
“Are we going to daddy’s beach, daddy?” asked Seph as they walked away.
“Damn straight.” He went back to the cooler and started packing up. Jane had had enough for one day and called her kids to her, deciding that ice cream was a safer bet than this beach outing.
Knight was rubbing the sand off his kids when Geoffrey came over and smirked, “See ya, Rolly.”
“I told you not to call me that,” Roland said, his grey eyes like ice. Jane pulled Geoffrey away – the pure fury in the boy’s eyes scared her.
“Roland,” said Knight. “C’mon.” Roland helped his sister get the big white shirt on, and then flicked his over his shoulder, as they walked back through the salt marshes.
Jane realized she hadn’t even said thank you.