The morning sun filtered through the wooden blinds of a charming craftsman home in Savannah’s Ardsley Park, Georgia, casting golden streaks across the kitchen. Six-year-old Liam bounded in, his inflatable starfish pool float wobbling around his waist. “Dad! Dad, could a shark totally gobble us up at the beach?” he asked, gripping a remote-controlled speedboat in one hand and a neon-green sand pail in the other. His father, Ryan, a 35-year-old freelance illustrator, laughed softly over his steaming mug of Starbucks coffee, its rich scent warming the room.
— “No way, kiddo, sharks won’t dare mess with us,” Ryan said, leaning back in his oak chair. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you like an eagle. Plus, sharks are more spooked by us than we are of them—movies just make ‘em seem like monsters!” Liam’s blue eyes widened, but a wide grin spread across his freckled face, soothed by his dad’s easy confidence.
— “Dad, can I have ice cream every single day? It’s gonna be crazy hot, right? Pretty please?” Liam hopped excitedly, his energy infectious. Ryan sighed, mussing his son’s tousled blond hair. “Okay, little man, ice cream’s a deal—just don’t spill the beans to your dentist,” he teased. “Now hustle, I think Bluey is about to start on the living room TV.”
Liam scampered off, his pool float bouncing, leaving Ryan alone with his coffee and thoughts of their upcoming trip to Tybee Island. This beach getaway had been a dream since his late wife, Claire, was alive—Liam’s mom, who’d planned every detail before a devastating car crash took her two years ago. The first year without her was a fog of sorrow, like a hurricane that wouldn’t pass. The second year was still hard, but Ryan and Liam had found their groove, leaning on each other to move forward.
Ryan’s parents, George and Susan, hadn’t been much support, though. They’d never fully warmed to his marriage to Claire, and even now, they kept their distance from Liam, their only grandchild. Ryan didn’t hold it against them—he loved them too much for that—but he quietly wished they’d embrace Liam fully. For now, he poured his energy into being the best dad he could, working from home to stay close to his son.
Ryan was thrilled at the thought of digging into shrimp and grits at The Crab Shack on Tybee Island or maybe even trying kiteboarding with Liam, if he felt bold enough. This trip was their chance to forge new memories, to laugh and mend by the sea. He smiled, imagining Liam crafting sandcastles and splashing in the waves.
Finishing his coffee, Ryan flipped open his laptop to ping his client on Microsoft Teams. His design firm was fine with the vacation but warned they might need him for last-minute projects—he was one of their best, after all. Ryan didn’t mind being on call; working remotely let him skip daycare costs and raise Liam himself, even if it meant balancing deadlines with dad life.
Liam went to kindergarten some days, but other times, he’d flat-out refuse, and Ryan, big on letting his kid have a say, let him stay home. Usually, after a week or two of lounging at home, Liam would beg to return to school, eager to join his friends for a few months. It was their quirky routine, and it worked.