This is a super partial study for the way light interacts on indirectly-lit ocean water. I’ve got several sea-containing projects underway, so I wanted to gather visual information about the shapes of shadows cast by water against itself.
In other news, my middle child is being an utter pickle about learning to read. There is so much briny behavior swimming around my house.
The youngest child is attempting to exert a reign of tyranny on the rest of the family, and is experiencing parent-induced setbacks in the form of time-outs (and wants everyone in the universe to know displeasure because of it).
My oldest child is being mostly civil, though, so my personal child-rearing cloud contains that silver lining. Yay eldest kid!
Here’s what happens next to Diana:
Stuart got stuck when Diana pulled out her key.
“I don’t want to go inside,” Stuart said, his shoulders pinching up as if he were cold, though the air was rather balmy and pleasant just now.
“Why, because you’re ashamed of yourself and you picture my mom glaring at you?” Diana asked, opening the door and going in.
“Yeah,” Stuart said, dragging back against Diana’s hand.
“Kisses,” Diana sang. Stuart clenched his jaw and followed her into the house. Diana pulled Stuart into the center of the living room with a little trouble and then pecked him on the cheek. Stuart let out a harsh breath at the contact of her lips and then laughed a little.
“More please?” Stuart asked.
“It would be fun, Stuart, but very unwise. I won’t kiss you,” Diana said.
“Because I’m horrible to you,” Stuart guessed.
“Because you’re broken inside, darling, and kissing would make you feel all better, and you’re not better. You hardly realize there’s even a problem, and walking around on broken legs is bad for them getting better, hm?” Diana asked.
“My legs are broken? Like, metaphorically?” Stuart asked.
“Yeah, relationship-wise you can’t even stand up under your own power. Come in my room and tell me about this guy, Jim. That’s your mom’s boyfriend’s name, right?” Diana asked.
“Um. I’d rather not go into your room, though,” Stuart said, following her anyway, as he really didn’t want to be alone in her parents’ house.
“Kisses, though,” Diana said over her shoulder.
“Why are you saying that? Kisses. Like, does that mean I get to have some when I’m good?” Stuart asked, crossing the threshold into her bedroom and looking around with nervous eyes. Diana gave him another peck on the opposite cheek. Stuart blushed.
“Yeah. Little pick-me-ups. Tell me about Jim,” Diana said, flopping onto her bed on her back and staring up at the ceiling.
“I haven’t been in here for a long time, Di,” Stuart said, looking around at the room, which was, in Diana’s opinion, a very tastefully decorated and cozy space.
“Keep on topic, buster. Tell me about Jim,” Diana said.
“He’s thirty-four, and handsome, and he plays baseball. He was almost good enough to go pro, actually, but he does, like, extra practices with a super competitive local team and coaches baseball for a job. He’s really fit. He taught me how to get more, uh, efficient with the stuff I was doing to be in shape,” Stuart said.
“Hey, do you miss me when I’m not there?” Diana asked, tipping her head to the side and studying Stuart.
You’re reading Victor Poole, and my children had to move rooms today (we’re reinforcing the privilege of birth-order as we develop their character). In my current novel, Mary is enquiring about the number and location of her children (she’s been bred and mind-wiped by some nefarious evil-doers).