Maggie grinned.
“Spongy.”
Victor pressed on Bernie’s pink nose, and the lab barked. Maggie’s dog, a brown-black mongrel, curled into a tighter half-moon at their legs, and they all fell silent for a while, listening to the wind’s petulant howl.
Bernie whined, and Victor picked up a rubber ball.
“It’s the habit,” he explained. “First we eat, then we play.”
Maggie whistled.
“We stop after the first part. Come on, old girl,” she scratched the dog’s ears, “run with Bernie.”
The dogs hit the low waves, and Maggie rummaged in her canvas shopper. This morning, she had brought square filo parcels wrapped in rustling paper to the beach. The bag still smelled of the morning bakery. Pulling out the thermos, she nudged Victor.
“Give me your cup. The best coffee in this part of the world.”
Drinking the vicious liquid, he inhaled the whiff of drying seaweed. Maggie’s long black hair still shone with green, but an unsuspecting eye would assume it was the remnants of an old dye.
The dogs jumped in the surf, and Victor coughed.
“Don’t you ever want to go back there?”
He pointed at the leaden beast of an ocean, tossing and turning beyond the quiet bay.
Maggie shrugged, caressing the silken white sand.
“I’ve made my choice and sealed it with a kiss,” she smiled. “Come on, you’re Felix’s best man and should know better than that.”
Victor snorted.
“I do. And besides, to marry one of yours is a good omen. Felix is a lucky sod.”
“Indeed, he is.” Maggie collected her things.
“We should be getting home. With a wedding next week, I’m swamped under a mountain of chores. Down below the waves,” she winked at Victor, “everything is simpler.”
The dog ran after her, and Victor shouted,
“But how can I meet one of yours?”
Maggie turned, and her azure eyes softened.
“Sometimes at night, we go out on the beach to sing and dance. You just have to wait.”
“I will,” Victor whispered as she and the dog disappeared into the morning mist.