Is It Any Wonder (Nantucket Love Story #2) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,50
coming down sideways, pelted the door. “Daniel!”
“Why are you all hiding inside?” he called out. “It’s a beautiful day!”
He laughed that infectious, jovial laugh, and Louisa giggled. Her feet were bare, her pink toenail polish chipping at the edges. She wore her swimsuit and shorts and her hair was still damp from their long day at the beach.
She opened the door and raced out on the deck as Mr. Boggs hopped onto the grass, kicking up water from a puddle that had formed.
“LuLu!” he called out. “Are you the only other soul brave enough for a wild adventure?”
She let out a scream as she followed him into the yard and ran around, the rain soaking her, and then all of a sudden, he stopped and looked up at the sky, arms stretched out wide. “Feel that, Louisa?” he hollered over the sound of the rain. “That’s God making everything new. No matter what, he can always make things new.”
Ever since that day, when it rained, the words drifted through her mind, a quiet comfort, even on the days that felt overwhelming. “That’s God making everything new. No matter what, he can always make things new.”
How many times in her life had she relied on those new and fresh days? How many times had she been grateful for a second chance? She glanced at Cody, standing in the doorway of her kitchen, and thought maybe this was one of those times. A second chance. An opportunity to do better.
She glanced down and saw he was holding an unmarked box under his right arm. “What’s that?”
“Some of my dad’s stuff,” he said.
The box appeared to be taped shut. “What’s in it?”
“Not sure. I’ve never opened it before.”
In a flash, she heard his screams, echoing through the past. She’d been there as they pulled Daniel’s body from the ocean. She remembered the heartbreak on Cody’s face, in his sobs.
“I’m so sorry, Dad. I’m so sorry.”
The words sliced through her like an arrow, and all the sorrow of that moment returned in a beat. Cody didn’t look at her as he set the box on her kitchen table. How many times had he moved over the years? And how many times had he packed this unopened box, hauling it from place to place?
The silence hung between them, thick like a cloud of sadness.
When he finally looked at her, she forced any expression of pity from her face. “Hungry?”
“Yep.”
She got two plates from the cupboard as he took the burgers wrapped in white paper from the bag.
“You’re not seriously going to use a plate, are you?”
Their eyes met, and she saw the memories playing out in front of them like a movie on a screen. When they were kids, they never bothered with plates. They pulled their Jetty burgers straight from the bag, leaving them partly wrapped as they ate. They dumped two orders of fries out into the bag and generously showered them with salt, sliding them through a shared blob of ketchup. It was a ritual, really.
She’d frozen in place, clutching the plates. Was she allowed to do things the way they’d always done them? She’d assumed it would annoy him.
But he sat down and set the burgers on the table, then dumped all the fries into the bag as if it were no big deal. And honestly, shared fries were no big deal. She should stop mentally making them into a big deal because he was clearly unmoved. This was just dinner between two people who used to know each other.
Two people who used to kiss each other.
“You okay?” He was looking at her now, and the realization threw her off-kilter for a second.
She forced a nod, then set the plates down and handed him the saltshaker, which he used liberally to make the fries even more delicious.
She then folded the bag and shook it up, coating every single french fry with as much salt as possible, rolled the top of the bag down, and set it between them. She glanced up and realized she was smiling. He quickly looked away.
She turned toward the fridge for the ketchup and swallowed the pesky sadness that had crept in uninvited.
It’s not like old times, she reminded herself. No matter how familiar parts of this ritual were.
She sat across from him and unwrapped her burger, inhaling the greasy goodness and trying not to calculate how much extra time she’d have to work out tomorrow in order to account for all these calories.