It was a nicer place than anywhere I usually took her — white umbrellas, spotless lounge chairs, women in polished cover-ups carrying logo tote bags. Near the entrance, a sign mentioned a family hospitality feature the resort was hosting that afternoon with a local lifestyle brand.
I noticed all of it, and it made me suddenly, sharply aware of myself. My age. My budget. How carefully I’d saved just to afford this one day.
Amelia squeezed my hand. “We belong here too,” she said.
I looked down at her and smiled. “Yes, we do.”
We changed, found our chairs, and went straight into the water. For a little while, everything was perfect. Amelia splashed. I splashed back. She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered, “Best birthday ever.”
Then we climbed out, and I’d just reached for our towels when a woman behind us said, loudly, “Oh my God.”
I turned. She looked about thirty — stylish hat, glossy lips, expensive sunglasses pushed up into her hair. Two friends sat behind her with iced drinks and matching tote bags.
She looked me up and down. “That swimsuit. At your age? Aren’t you embarrassed?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
For one second, I genuinely thought I’d misheard her. Her friends giggled.
