We walked along the sand bar, sidestepping a soft palette of seashells of every shape and variety. The wind billowed its fingers through my hair and sent a mad tornado of curls flying out in every direction. I unstuck the strands from my raspberry red lip gloss, and reached out for your hand. We pointed at the horizon and picked out what our future boat would be. Wooden with a navy hull. And then we dreamed about what the dock would look like. I pressed my face into your shoulder to block out the wind, and Cooper leaned heavily into me. And we stood like that for a long time, us three, just staring out at the future.
We drove into town late to grab some dinner. You said we’d never get a reservation and I told you to keep the faith. And then we walked right in and got a table. And as we walked to the back corner, I glanced back over my shoulder with a look and a smile to remind you that I’ll always be right. We raised a glass and toasted. Toasted to five years ago this week when we leapt in this business, and prayed that the net would appear. To the past five years that have been beyond anything in our wildest dreams. And to the next five years, whatever they may hold. And through it all, come what may, we toasted to standing side by side and leaning heavily into one another. Staring out into the same direction.
And to dreaming big dreams, while always keeping the faith.