Page 31 of Since the Day We Left

A light breeze kicked up, ruffling the edge of Wendi’s sketchbook. She ran a hand over the page to smooth it, then glimpsed Miles, as if considering something. She sighed, stretching her legs out in front of her and setting her pencil aside.

“Want to take a walk?” Wendi asked, closing her sketchbook.

Miles looked at her, then at his dad. “Yeah. We’ll stay close.”

11

Wendi

AsWendiandMilesstrolled along the shoreline, Max sprinted ahead, nose to the ground, investigating shells and chasing waves. Then he froze, ears perked, before he started digging away with his paws, sand flying in all directions. With one final scoop, Max pulled something from the hole—a soggy, sand-crusted sock.

“Maximus Parker,” Wendi huffed, giving her bestmomtone. “Drop it.”

Max stiffened and dropped the sock at her feet. His eyes darted between the sock and Wendi, wearing a look that was equal parts guilt and triumph.

Miles grinned. “Full government name, huh?”

“Only for the serious infractions,” she said, tossing one of Max’s toys, watching as he bounded after it. She drew in a deep breath, pulling the crisp salt air into her lungs. “I love November beach days here. Sometimes it’s seventy, some days it’s forty. We got lucky.”

“Yeah, we did.” Miles’s gaze went to Arthur. “This place meant a lot to my parents. They honeymooned here.”

“Great place for one. Not that I’d know—I never got a real honeymoon. There was always some excuse. After a while, I just stopped asking.”

“You’re in good company. Never made it to a honeymoon,” Miles said with a half-smile. “Closest I got was a weekend in Charleston—didn’t even make it to check-in.”

Wendi chuckled and nudged his arm. “What was growing up in Atlanta like?”

He shrugged. “Pretty normal, I guess. A’s and B’s in school and tried every sport I could. Mom kept us both in line.” He paused, surprised by how easily the forgotten details returned. “After she passed, Dad did his best. Worked crazy hours, but never missed a game or a school thing.”

“He really showed up for you.”

“Yeah,” Miles said, glancing toward Arthur. “He did.” After a beat, he turned to her. “What about you? Growing up here—was it always beaches and small-town charm?”

“Not exactly.” She traced a slow line in the sand with her toe, watching as the breeze erased it. “I loved it here, but I used to run up to this spot when my parents argued. Which was a lot.” She gestured toward the dunes. “I’d bring a sketchbook, sit on the rocks, and draw. The ocean never made me pick a side.”

Miles looked out at the water. “Good way to deal with things. Better than how most kids would’ve handled it.”

She shrugged. “It didn’t feel like much of a choice. Just the only place that felt right.”

Max barked—sharp, sudden. They turned to see him standing over a tide pool, ears flattened, barking at his own reflection.

“First time seeing himself from there?” Miles grinned.

Wendi sighed as Max swiped a paw at the water, splashing his face. “He’s his own worst enemy.”

With one last snort, Max bolted from the tide pool—charging straight at them. A split second later, he shook himself dry, sending a spray of water over them both.

“Max!” Wendi sputtered, swiping at the cold droplets on her face.

“No government name?”

“Ah, not this time.”

Max flopped onto the sand as Wendi and Miles shared an amused glance. As they continued walking, Wendi stopped abruptly, the wind lifting her hair.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Most people wouldn’t have noticed. Not enough to ask, anyway. Plenty of people had known her for years, but few ever looked closely enough to see when something shifted. She was good at brushing things off, at deflecting with a joke or an easy smile. But Miles? He saw her.

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