Driftwood Love

28. Hang Gliding

I woke up around 8 a.m., still groggy. My head felt strangely heavy, almost as if I were suffering from a hangover—although I hadn't drunk a drop of alcohol the night before.

The bed next to me was empty, and suddenly my sleepiness vanished. I jumped up, driven by the burning question of where Laszlo could be. Full of excitement, I rushed down the stairs—the three small steps at the entrance—and nearly tripped but managed to grab onto the support beam of the porch at the last moment.

"Laszlo!" I called out as I rounded the corner. The sandbox was empty. Nothing. My heart began to beat faster as I ran towards the sea, panic creeping up my neck.

There he stood on the beach, grinning at me. Laszlo had fashioned a royal cape out of the bedding, similar to the king from Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the Silence" video. But instead of a folding chair, he held another fitted sheet in his hand, on which his stuffed animals sat enthroned, like a precious bundle he dragged across the ground.

"Mama, Mama, I'm the coach king taking my little animals for a ride!" he proudly shouted to me. Bed sheets were scattered all around us, each one an improvised throne for stuffed animals or shells. It looked like a fashion shoot at Burning Man. Some of the stuffed animals even wore my underwear—over their heads, so the legs were where the plush ears now stuck out.

I clasped my hands over my head—all these bed linens needed washing, not to mention the underwear! It was the bedding I had taken with me, not knowing that Aunt Merle had taken care of it.

Yet the relief that my son was safe made me quickly place my hand on my chest and try to breathe more calmly. Suddenly, Aunt Merle appeared from behind a dune, wished me a good morning, and asked why I was so scantily clad outside. I looked down—at indeed, I was only wearing panties and a baggy, old, washed-out, dark blue T-shirt. A gust of wind made me shiver, although it was unusually warm; probably the sleep still in my bones made me feel cold.

I hastily explained that I had been panicking looking for Laszlo. Merle laughed. "But you know we wanted to have breakfast together this morning."

"Of course I knew that, but not this early!" I explained, embarrassed, trying to brush some unruly strands from my face, and felt some sharp stones under my feet that made me dance awkwardly.

Laszlo was just too adorable, his eyes shining so brightly that it was impossible for me to be mad at him. Yet I felt it necessary to explain to him that his morning venture meant a lot of laundry for me.

I had to make it clear to him that even though he might continue on adventures, I would be left alone with a mountain of laundry and would have to hang each sheet myself. As I moved toward the house, suddenly Morten appeared, saluting in his casual way and wearing a grin. Somehow that made me angry. I think little bolts of lightning shot from my eyes as I retorted through clenched teeth, "Not a word! Please, absolutely no comment!"

He gestured that his mouth was sealed, which he zipped shut. I believe he barely suppressed his laughter. I rushed inside, red with annoyance. There, I looked in the mirror and had to admit that my hair was sticking out in all directions—that wasn't even the worst part. A perfect reflection of the chaos this morning had brought. I felt like a character from "The Walking Dead"—a walker, a zombie, with panda eyes because I hadn't properly removed my makeup the night before.

Embarrassed, I jumped into the shower. Why did Morten have to be there? And why did it bother me so much that he had seen me in that state? Shaking my head, I tried to shake off these irritating thoughts under the pounding shower, like a Labrador shaking off water, hoping to just get rid of them.