Our Castle

        I can still feel the sand between my toes as we stood there looking at our huge sand castle. The little red flag on top was fluttering about with the cool summer breeze. Buckets were scattered all over the place and the tide was fixing to eat one of them. Purples and pinks and oranges covered the skies as the sun was going down, and there was a huge grin on your face.
I remember you stepping back, with your hands on your hips, and saying, "Isn't this great, Stephanie?" You looked over at me with those content amber eyes, waiting for me to answer.
I looked back at it too, like you were, and for two six-year-old kids, I think it had everything. It was crumbling around the edges some, but you didn't seem to notice and I wasn't about to tell you either. The mote was full with water, and I could just see the little toy sailboat making its way back around the castle. "I think it's beautiful!"
I swear your grin couldn't get any wider, but somehow you managed it. You walked over to me, grabbed my hand, and looked me straight in the eyes. "One day, we're gonna live in that castle, Steph."
"And fly on paper airplanes?"
"You bet we will! And we won't be scared of anything! When it's storming outside of our pretty castle, we'll run out in the very middle of it and dance together!"
"Can we light up the yard with fireflies?"
"Sure."
"Promise?"
"Promise," you told me and squeezed my little hand in yours and gave me a shy peck on my cheek. You giggled at my blushing and then kissed my freckled nose.