“What is this?”
“Zuma Beach,” I told him, parking the rental car. “Joe and I used to come here all the time when we were teenagers.”
He followed me onto the sand, both of us wearing flip-flops, but it didn’t prevent the sand from getting between our toes as we made it down toward the ocean.
“Joe was into surfing.”
“What about you?”
I smiled and shook my head. “I was into surfers.”
It was breezy and filled with beachgoers sunbathing themselves and playing with their children and dogs. The water would be cold, no matter the time of year, but that never stopped people from going out into the ocean and waves. The surf wasn’t particularly high at the moment.
I found a rock that both of us could sit on and was pleased when Zach sat beside me without question.
“Actually, this is where we
