Page 114 of Built to Fall
“That’s the house settling. Happens more in the winter when the air’s colder. You get used to it.”
“I feel like I’m in a Hallmark movie or something.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not.” She smiles into her cup, and it’s so natural that something in my chest takes hold of my heart, pumping my blood faster. “It’s kind of perfect, actually.”
I nod before pulling the creamer out of the fridge and sliding it toward her. She smiles up at me as she pops the lid open and sloshes it into her coffee.
“Jesus.” I laugh. “That cup is officially more creamer than coffee.”
Lina doesn’t seem bothered by it. “Exactly how I like it.”
I reach across the counter, grabbing the mug and lifting it to my mouth so I can take a sip. It’s so sweet it practically makes my teeth ache, but I grin as I set the mug back down in front of her. “Yeah, you can have that back.”
“So,” she says, stretching her arms above her head, “what’s the plan for today?”
I’m busy putting the creamer back in the fridge. “Whatever you want to do.”
“Can we go walk on the beach?”
At the same time, we both glance out the picture window looking out from the dining room to the beach in the backyard. There’s a light layer of snow over the sand, the sky is gray, and the wind is cutting through the waves, making them look borderline dangerous.
“You want to go walk on the beach?” I look back at her with a raised eyebrow, like it couldn’t possibly be a bad idea.
“When else am I ever going to be able to experience a Martha’s Vineyard beach?”
She hops off her barstool, but I’m stuck in place, because her words are burning through my chest like a match would a tissue.
Like this is a one-time thing. Like she’s already bracing herself to leave, to turn this whole trip into something she stores under the category ofthings I’ll never do again.
I would say something about it, tell her that she can come back here with me anytime she wants, but I don’t want to dampen her excitement with a conversation that feels more weighted than either of us are ready for.
So, I push off the counter, leading her to the door. She’s bouncing on her toes like a kid about to open Christmas presents, smiling at me like she can’t feel the cold already seeping through the cracks of the old house. It’s the most excited and outwardly happy I think I’ve ever seen her.
“You’re insane,” I mutter, tossing her one of Abby’s windbreaker jackets. “Put this on.”
“Just admit it. This is going to be fun!” she argues, quickly slipping her arms into the jacket I’m already holding open for her.
We both throw on shoes, and Lina watches with anticipation as I put my jacket on.
“I’ve seriously never seen you this excited before.” It’s honestly refreshing being able to see this side of her.
She looks almost unreal standing here—heart-shaped face blushing pink, full lips tugged up into a grin she can’t seem to contain. “Well, you should take me to the beach more often then.”
And before I can say anything more, she’s already pushing the door open and racing down the steps of the front porch. The wind is whipping her hair every which way, long brown waves barely contained by her already messy ponytail.
Her elated giggles ring through the air as I follow quickly behind her, the cold sucker-punching me in the face. The way she’s running toward the sand makes me wonder if she’s seeing something I can’t.
“Careful, careful!” I yell when she nearly trips over one of the loose pavers on the cobblestone path.
Lina doesn’t seem to care much about how she nearly knocked her front teeth out; she just keeps on her way.
When she finally reaches the water’s edge, she stops, breathless and pink-cheeked, staring out at the horizon.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, almost like she’s surprised.
I don’t look at the ocean. I look at her.
